The phantom sensation of Seraphina's touch seemed to have branded itself onto the obsidian staff, a cool echo that sent conflicting shivers up Kaito's arm. The roar of the celebratory guild hall felt distant, muffled, as if he were trapped in a silent bubble with Roland's booming laughter and the lingering scent of ozone and flowers. The tankard of ale in his hand was forgotten, a heavy, warm weight he had no intention of drinking from.
"An heirloom," Roland repeated, his grin widening. He clapped Kaito on the shoulder again, a gesture that was becoming familiar and just as jarring. "A mysterious heirloom that catches the eye of our dear, unflappable Seraphina. You're full of surprises, F-rank." There was no malice in his tone, only a sort of jovial bewilderment. He was a man who understood strength in terms of spears and slain Titans, not in quiet, enigmatic staffs and the attention of intellectually formidable women.
Kaito's mind was a whirlwind. [Sage, she knows. She has to know it's not normal.]
[Analysis: Subject Seraphina possesses a high degree of arcane knowledge and perceptive intelligence. She has correctly identified the staff's anomalous properties. Her curiosity is a logical outcome. The "family heirloom" explanation has been accepted for now, but it is a fragile construct.]
Fragile. The word echoed his own feeling. His entire existence here was a fragile construct—a human mask over an infinite void, an F-rank badge pinned to a being that had consumed concepts far beyond the understanding of the A-ranks celebrating around him.
"Don't look so terrified, kid," Roland said, misinterpreting the source of his panic. "She won't hex you in your sleep. Probably. She just has a thing for old magic. Once tried to buy a shard of the First Moon right out from under the Royal Archmage's nose." He shook his head, a fond exasperation on his face. "Consider it a rite of passage. You've been noticed."
Noticed. That was the problem. He had spent his short conscious life trying to blend in, to understand the rules, to be a part of the system. Now, the most astute member of that system had her sights set on him, and it felt less like an honor and more like being placed under a microscope.
Needing a moment to collect himself, he mumbled an excuse to Roland and made his way back toward the reception desk, where the crowd was thinner. Anya was there, sorting through a new stack of quest parchments. She looked up as he approached, and her warm, hazel eyes crinkled with a knowing, gentle smile.
"You look like you've seen a ghost, Kaito," she said, her voice a soft contrast to the hall's cacophony. "Or, perhaps, been scrutinized by one of our resident geniuses."
He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "She... wanted to buy my staff."
Anya's smile widened. "I saw. Consider yourself lucky, in a way." She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a confidential tone. "In the three years I've known her, I have never seen Seraphina show that level of interest in anyone. Or anything. Not Roland, not the other heroes, not even some of the legendary artifacts they've recovered. She's polite, professional, and utterly detached." She gave a little wink. "You and your 'heirloom' have managed the impossible. You've genuinely intrigued the Ice Queen."
The nickname "Ice Queen" fit her perfectly. But the implication behind Anya's words sent another, different kind of warmth through him, one that mixed with his anxiety. It wasn't just the staff. It was him. She had looked at him. Her gaze had been analytical, yes, but it had been directed at the person holding the staff, not just the object itself.
[Social interaction analysis: Clerk Anya's statement suggests that Subject Seraphina's behavior is a significant deviation from her established patterns. This increases the probability of continued observation and interaction.]
Continued interaction. The thought was simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. He remembered the way her fingers had felt against the staff, how her proximity had made the air feel thin.
"What should I do?" The question slipped out, born of genuine confusion. He was equipped to handle Gloom Bruins and territorial Titans, but not the focused curiosity of a beautiful, powerful mage.
Anya's expression softened into one of maternal kindness. "Just be yourself, Kaito. If she asks questions, answer what you're comfortable with. Seraphina is intense, but she's not cruel. She respects knowledge and honesty above all else." She paused, then added, "And maybe don't let Roland shove any more ale into your hand. You look like you could use a clear head."
He managed a weak smile, his fingers unconsciously tightening around the staff. "Thank you, Anya."
As he turned away from the desk, the F-rank badge felt heavier than ever. The path before him had suddenly forked. One way was the simple, straightforward life of a new adventurer: taking F-rank quests, killing giant rats in cellars, slowly climbing the ranks. The other path was shrouded in mist, leading toward the brilliant, demanding light of Seraphina's intellect. She was a gateway to a deeper understanding of this world's magic, its rules, and its secrets. But walking that path meant risking exposure. It meant having to maintain his fragile human mask under the gaze of someone who might just be smart enough to see the cracks.
He looked across the room and saw her standing by a window, sipping her wine, her profile outlined against the glass. She wasn't looking at him, but he felt the weight of her attention nonetheless. The celebration for the slain Titan continued around him, but Kaito was no longer part of it. He was at the starting line of a much more complex and dangerous quest.