The Central Square of Orario at this hour resembled a disturbed hive that had decided to rest a little. The sun had already touched the spires in the west, painting the white stone pavement in warm, reddish tones.
I stood by the rim of the fountain, trying not to look like a statue someone forgot to remove after a festival. The new vest that Raine and I (or rather, Raine and that crazy seamstress) had chosen this morning fit perfectly, but I still kept tugging at it. It felt unusual. After the stiff leather of armor and a simple home tunic, this outfit seemed alien to me, as if I had put on someone else's guise.
"Calm down, Bell," I whispered under my breath, checking if my shirt collar was straight. "It's just dinner. Just a thank you. Nothing special."
To distract myself, I began to examine the people around me. The square was full of life. But my gaze, as if of its own volition, picked out certain couples from the crowd.
Here, a man in simple artisan's clothes gently adjusts a shawl on a woman's shoulders, and she looks at him with such tenderness that I feel awkward, as if I had spied on something intimate. And there, a little further away, by a bench, a young guy, somewhat similar to me only older, hands a girl a flower, and they both laugh, holding hands.
"Bell?"
The voice tore me from my thoughts. I turned around and for a second forgot how to breathe.
Eina was walking toward me.
I was used to seeing her in the strict uniform of a Guild employee: a dark vest, a narrow skirt, a stack of documents in her hands. This image was inseparable from her, like a sword from a scabbard. But now...
She looked... ordinary. And because of that—even more beautiful.
"Miss... Eina?" I exhaled, forgetting to breathe.
She came closer, and I caught the subtle scent of forest flowers emanating from her. She smiled slightly, noticing my confusion, and tucked a strand of hair behind her pointed ear—a gesture I had already begun to recognize.
"Did I keep you waiting?" she asked.
"No! Not at all!" I waved my hands, feeling like a clumsy giant. "I just arrived myself! That is... I came early, but that doesn't matter! You... you look wonderful!"
The words flew out before I could think them through. I immediately bit my tongue, afraid I had crossed a line. But Eina didn't frown. On the contrary, a light, barely noticeable blush appeared on her cheeks.
"Thank you, Bell," she gave me an appraising look, and surprise flickered in her eyes. "You too... look different. This suit suits you very well. You seem older."
At her praise, a warm bud seemed to blossom inside me.
"I tried."
Eina looked around, as if searching for someone else. Her brows furrowed slightly.
"And where is your partner? I thought you were inseparable."
There it was. I knew she would ask.
I averted my eyes, pretending to be very interested in the architecture of the neighboring building.
"Ah, Raine..." I drawled, trying to make my voice sound convincing. "He... had business come up. Urgent business. And unfortunately, he couldn't come... so yeahhhh..."
I waved my hand vaguely in the air, hoping that explained everything.
Eina narrowed her eyes. She clearly understood that Raine's "business" was a thinly veiled excuse to leave us alone.
"I see," a smirk slipped into her voice.
We moved away from the noisy square. For the first few minutes, the silence between us was a little taut, like a bowstring. I frantically sorted through topics for conversation in my head, afraid of saying something stupid, but Eina, as if sensing my state, spoke first.
"You know, I rarely walk around the city just for the sake of it," she admitted, looking at the shop windows. "Usually I run from home to the Guild and back. Orario is so huge, and I only see papers and walls."
"Really?" I was surprised. "And here I thought you knew every stone here. You told us so much about the districts."
"Knowing by the map and knowing in person are different things," she chuckled.
We turned onto a street lined with secondhand bookshops. It smelled of old paper and ink here—a smell that, I noticed, made Eina's eyes shine.
She stopped at one of the stalls where old maps and treatises were laid out.
"Look," she pointed a slender finger at a yellowed sheet depicting the world outside Orario. "This is a map from a hundred years ago. See? Some cities aren't here yet, and the forests take up much more space."
I stepped closer, standing next to her. Her shoulder almost touched mine, and from this proximity, my thoughts tangled.
"The world changes," I said quietly, examining the whimsical outlines of the continents. "Just like the Dungeon."
"The Dungeon changes to kill," Eina's voice became more serious, but there was no lecturing tone in it. "But the world above changes because people live, build, dream. I've always liked reading about distant lands. About places where there are no monsters, only boundless seas or mountains whose peaks touch the stars."
She turned to me, and our gazes met.
"And you, Bell? What did you dream of when you lived in the village? Besides becoming a hero."
The question caught me off guard. I had always thought only of heroism. But now, looking into her green eyes, I remembered something else.
"I dreamed of seeing... snow that doesn't melt," I admitted. "Grandpa said that far to the north there are lands of eternal winter. And I also wanted to see the ocean. They say it's so huge you can't see the other shore."
"The ocean is beautiful," Eina said dreamily. "I saw it once, in childhood, and I would like for you to see it someday."
Her words sounded so sincere, as if she truly wished that for me. Not as an advisor to her charge, but as... a friend?
We walked on, and the tension finally melted away. We discussed books, legends, argued about which hero of antiquity was stronger. I was surprised to find that Eina was easy to talk to. She didn't look down on me; she listened. And her laughter—quiet, melodic—made me feel like the wittiest person in Orario.
Our path led us to a small park on the outskirts of the district. It was quiet here. Evening twilight was already thickening, and magic lanterns along the paths lit up with a soft bluish light.
We sat on a bench under a spreading tree. From here, a view opened up of the upper floors of the city and the spire of Babel piercing the darkening sky.
"Bell," Eina was silent for a moment, smoothing a crease on her skirt. "I want to apologize for yelling at you."
"Oh no!" I started. "You were right! We really took a big risk."
"Yes, but..." she looked at the tower. "I wasn't just angry because of the rules. I was angry because I was scared."
"I've been working at the Guild for several years," she began quietly. "And I've seen too many names turn into lines on a list of the dead. Young, eyes burning, full of hope... They go into the Abyss and don't come back. I... I took you under my wing not just out of duty. You and your friend... you reminded me why I fell in love with adventurers in the first place. There is a spark in you. And the thought that this spark could go out on the very first day... it was terrifying."
Her voice trembled. I saw in her not a Guild employee, but a girl carrying the burden of other people's deaths on her shoulders.
I wanted to do something to comfort her. I carefully, afraid to startle the moment, covered her hand with mine. Her hand was cool and gentle.
"We won't go out, Eina," I said firmly. For the first time, I called her by name without the "Miss," and it sounded surprisingly natural. "I promise. We will be careful. We will become strong. Strong enough that you never have to be afraid for us again."
She looked at my hand, then into my eyes. In the semi-darkness of the park, her gaze seemed bottomless.
"Promise?" she asked barely audibly.
"I promise."
She didn't pull her hand away. On the contrary, her fingers squeezed slightly, responding to my touch. In that moment, an invisible thread seemed to stretch between us, stronger than any rope.
"You're a strange adventurer, Bell Cranel," she finally smiled, and this smile was the warmest of the entire evening. "Alright. I believe you. But if you break your word... I will personally find you in the afterlife and lecture you."
We laughed, and that laughter chased away the remnants of sadness.
"And now," she stood up, pulling me along. "You promised me dinner. And I know an excellent place nearby. They serve the best desserts in the city, and I intend to eat the biggest one as compensation for my nerves."
The little restaurant turned out to be cozy, with wicker chairs and tables on the veranda. We ate, chatted about all sorts of nonsense—ice cream flavors, funny incidents at the Guild, how amusingly Raine bargains.
I looked at Eina, at how she squinted with pleasure tasting a pastry, and realized Raine was right. This wasn't a "business meeting." And it wasn't just "punishment."
It was... nice.
When we left the restaurant, the city had already plunged into night. The streets were lit by lanterns, but the sky above us was strewn with stars so bright it seemed you could reach out and touch them.
I walked Eina to the Guild staff dormitory. We stopped at the gate.
"Thank you for the evening, Bell," she said, turning to me. "It was... unexpectedly pleasant."
"I liked it a lot too," I replied sincerely. "Thank you for coming with me."
That awkward pause arose, the kind they write about in books. I didn't know what to do. Shake hands? Bow?
Eina decided for me. She took a step forward, quickly rose on her tiptoes, and weightlessly touched her lips to my cheek.
"See you, hero," she whispered.
And before I could realize what had happened, she had already disappeared behind the door, leaving behind only a faint trail of floral perfume and the beating of my heart, which seemed determined to break through my ribs.
I stood in the middle of the empty street, pressing my palm to my cheek, which burned like fire.
"Yeah..." I whispered into the void.