The Sky at the Azuris

I woke to the soft glow of morning light filtering through our small window. My sister, Myrina, was long gone by then. She typically left early for her own quests, always brimming with energy I couldn't quite match. Yet the empty house didn't feel lonely. Her presence lingered in every corner—the half-finished mug of tea on the table, her well-worn boots near the door. I took comfort in these small reminders.

That morning, however, I couldn't shake the nervous flutter in my stomach. I had a plan—or at least, I tried to have one. After joining the Adventurers' Guild as a G– rank trainee the previous day, I was supposed to pick my first errand quest. The memory of the guild's quest board loomed large in my mind: rows of parchment tacked up for every possible task, from monster hunting (way beyond my rank) to delivering parcels, collecting supplies, and more. 

I swallowed a lump in my throat and donned my simple clothes, carefully re-tying the small guild emblem around my neck. It still felt surreal to hold that badge. G– wasn't a glorious rank, yet it symbolized a door opening in my life—a door I both feared and yearned to step through.

Outside, the sky was a pale, cloudless blue. The city streets were just waking up. A few shopkeepers swept their doorsteps, and a horse-drawn cart clattered by, delivering crates of vegetables. My mind churned with worry over the day's uncertainties. Despite it all, I forced my feet to move forward, one step at a time, heading for the guild hall.

By the time I arrived, the large wooden doors stood open, beckoning me into the bustle of adventurers milling about. Some carried swords or staves, others wore sturdy armor. Their chatter bounced off the stone walls, forming a lively chorus. I kept my gaze low, avoiding eye contact. My heart pounded a little too fast, but I slipped inside, determined to handle my errand quest like a real guild member would.

I made my way to the quest board. Most of the postings were pinned in neat rows, though some overlapped in a haphazard fashion. Myrina once told me that the best quests went quickly, snatched up by the earlier risers. But I wasn't ready for anything dangerous or complicated yet. I spotted a few errands near the bottom:

– Sweeping stables for the local horse trainer. 

– Delivering fresh bread to the western guard tower. 

– Helping with restocking a bookstore's shelves. 

– Assisting a herbalist in her garden.

My hand hovered near these smaller flyers. Everything looked straightforward in theory, but I couldn't decide. The stable job sounded messy. I liked bread but worried about messing up a delivery. The bookstore gig seemed nice, though I'd heard rumors the owner could be a bit stern. As for the herbalist quest, I wasn't sure I could distinguish weeds from actual herbs without accidentally destroying everything.

I must have stood there for a while, because someone tapped my shoulder from behind, making me jump. When I turned, I saw Mya. She gave me a small, timid smile. She was my age, around ten, with warm eyes that shone whenever she talked about alchemy or magic. Standing next to her was a middle-aged woman I recognized as her mother. I'd only met her briefly before, but I recalled she worked as an alchemist.

"Morning, Trey," Mya said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're here early."

I swallowed and nodded. "Morning, Mya. I… well, I'm trying to pick my first errand quest. But, uh, I can't decide."

Mya's mother offered me a kind smile. "The choices can feel overwhelming, can't they? Especially when it's your first time." She glanced at the board, scanning the postings. "Anything catch your eye?"

I rubbed the back of my neck, struggling to form a response. "I'm not sure if I should deliver things or do stable work or… or, well, something else. I'm worried about messing up."

Mya stepped closer, her tone gentle but encouraging. "What about the herbalist job? The flyer says she needs help in her garden. I've done a little gardening with my mother's alchemy supplies, so maybe we could do it together?"

Her offer surprised me. "You mean… you want to help me with my quest?" I almost stumbled over my words. "That's allowed, right?"

Mya's mother nodded. "The guild doesn't usually mind if two novices team up for a simple errand. It's safer, too."

Relief washed over me like a cool breeze. "That sounds nice," I admitted. "If it's okay with you."

"Of course." Mya gave me another small smile.

I turned around to see Nerissa, the friendly receptionist, beckoning us over. She recognized me right away. "Trey, Mya. Need help choosing a quest?" 

"Y-yes," I said, stepping closer to her counter. "We're thinking about the herbalist's garden. But, well, do you think it's a good job for G– rank?"

Nerissa leafed through a stack of flyers and pulled one out, pressing it flat on the desk. "It's perfect for G–. No dangerous monsters lurking in a garden. You'll just be helping her weed, trim, and organize herbs. The payment is two iron coins total—nothing huge, but a fair wage for a day's work."

I caught myself nodding before I'd fully processed her words. "That's… yeah, that sounds manageable."

"I can stamp the quest for you," Nerissa said, reaching for her guild seal. "That way, it's officially assigned." Then she turned toward Mya's mother. "You're all right with them heading out together?"

She chuckled gently. "I'm actually free right now, so I don't mind walking them there. The herbalist's place is on my way back to my own shop."

"Great." Nerissa pressed her seal onto the paper, leaving a neat mark. "Bring this back once you finish. Good luck out there."

I thanked her, my voice a bit more confident than earlier. The wrinkled quest flyer now felt like a small ticket to a bigger world. We left the desk, stepping aside to let other adventurers finalize their business. I glanced at Mya, grateful I wasn't alone. She just smiled, and a hint of excitement shone in her eyes.

"Shall we go?" her mother asked. She gestured to the doors. 

We agreed, and soon the three of us headed into the bustling street. The city had fully woken up by then. Pedestrians streamed around us, some carrying baskets of produce, others leading livestock. Stalls lined the road, each one piled with goods: fruits, handmade crafts, potions, and more. Mya lingered by a stall with bright flowers, momentarily captivated by their colors.

"Think these petals could be used in a healing salve?" she wondered aloud, speaking to her mother.

"Possibly," her mother replied. "We can ask the herbalist. She's an expert on local plants."

I followed a step behind, feeling a wave of calm that replaced my earlier anxiety. Something about Mya's presence soothed me—she was quiet, but thoughtful, and I appreciated how she never made me feel foolish for being nervous. I clutched the quest paper as though it might blow away if I loosened my grip.

Before long, we reached a quieter part of town. The crowds thinned, replaced by modest homes and small plots of cultivated land. I recognized one of the pathways Myrina sometimes used to return from certain delivery quests. Eventually, Mya's mother pointed to a gate made of weathered wood, entwined with vines and small flowers.

"This should be the place," she said.

The herbalist's garden lay beyond the gate, and from my vantage point, it looked expansive. I noticed rows of leafy plants, some in neat formations, others sprawling in a wild tangle. Everything was vibrant shades of green, dotted with bright blossoms. A small cottage stood at the far end, simple but well-kept.

"Are you both ready?" Mya's mother asked, casting her gaze between us.

I nodded, swallowing my nerves. Mya looked at me, and I thought I saw a tiny flicker of excitement. 

"Let's do it," she said.

We stepped through the gate, the wooden latch creaking softly. The scent of earth and greenery hit me first—rich soil, crushed leaves, and a faint hint of floral sweetness. My boots squished into the soft ground. Mya's mother walked a few steps ahead, calling out, "Hello? We're from the Adventurers' Guild!"

A moment later, a voice answered from behind a cluster of tall herbs. "Yes, yes, I'm coming." An older woman emerged, wearing thick gardening gloves and carrying a small spade. Her attire was simple but practical: a long apron stained with soil and a wide-brimmed straw hat shielding her face from the sun.

She smiled when she saw us. "Ah, so the guild finally sent help. I'm the herbalist, by the way."

I realized I should introduce myself, so I held out the official quest paper, though it shook a little in my hand. "I'm Trey Austere, G– rank. This is Mya. W-we're here to help with your garden."

The woman studied us with a measured gaze. "Young, but that's all right. I could use an extra pair of hands." She switched her attention to Mya's mother, who gave a small wave.

"I'm just dropping them off," Mya's mother said warmly. "I'm an alchemist, so I know how precious your herbs can be. But I need to return to my shop soon."

"Well, I'll make sure these two don't trample anything important," the herbalist replied, her good-natured tone putting me at ease.

Mya's mother patted Mya's shoulder, then looked at me. "Work hard, both of you. Learn what you can. I'll see you back at home, Mya."

"Okay, Mother," Mya said, a hint of affection in her voice. I bowed slightly in respect, and Mya's mother gave us a final smile before making her exit.

When she was gone, the herbalist motioned for us to follow her deeper into the garden. I tried not to step on any small plants, although the garden was more densely packed than I'd expected. Mya navigated it with careful footfalls, her eyes roaming over each row of plants. Occasionally, she paused to admire a particular herb, as if mentally cataloguing it.

The herbalist stopped near a patch of waist-high greenery with delicate white blossoms. "I need help weeding this area first," she explained. "But you have to be careful not to yank out the medicinal plants. See the difference in the leaves?" She parted two stems, revealing that one had a simpler leaf structure while the other was bushier.

Mya nodded. "Yes, that one is the weed, right?" She gently pointed to the slender vine creeping around the base of the healthier herb.

"Exactly." The herbalist offered me a quick glance. "If you press down on the main herb while pulling the weed, you won't uproot the whole clump."

I swallowed, hoping I could remember the instructions. "I'll be careful."

She handed us each a pair of gardening gloves, then stepped back to observe. Mya knelt without hesitation, scanning the ground in front of her. I hovered a moment, exhaling to calm myself before crouching down, too.

My first attempt wasn't graceful. I tugged on a weed and nearly ripped out a small cluster of the herbalist's precious plants. My chest tightened in panic.

Mya noticed, quickly catching my wrist. "Wait, let me hold the herb down while you pull." 

Following her lead, I pressed the herb's base gently with one hand and pulled the weed with the other. The vine slid free of the soil, leaving the herb intact. Relief fluttered through me. "Thanks," I muttered, cheeks burning. 

She offered me a small smile, then turned back to her own patch. "No problem. We'll get the hang of it."

For a while, we worked in companionable silence, carefully removing one weed at a time. The midday sun rose higher, heating our backs. My knees ached from crouching, but I pushed through it. Mya seemed more concerned about the plants than her own discomfort. She kept glancing from one herb to another, occasionally sharing the names of the ones she recognized.

"That's mallow root," she murmured at one point, fingertips brushing a broad-leafed herb. "Good for soothing burns and coughs."

I nodded, impressed by her quiet knowledge. "I had no idea. I guess your mother taught you?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "A little. I read some of her notes. It's fun learning about their properties."

The herbalist passed by, checking our progress. "You two are neat workers," she said. "Better than some of the older adventurers who tear up my beds without a second thought."

I straightened, trying not to sound too proud. "We just want to do it right."

She chuckled softly, patted my shoulder, and moved along. Mya and I shared a quick grin, the small boost of praise spurring us on. Something about collaborating with her felt surprisingly comfortable, even though I'd only known her for a short time. She had a calm aura that soothed my nerves. 

By noon, we'd cleared most of the weeds from one large patch. The herbalist then guided us to a row of overgrown shrubs near a fence. "These need trimming," she explained, handing us shears. "Cut off the yellowed branches and any dead leaves. But be gentle—some of the stems might still have new buds."

Mya took a pair of shears and nodded. "Understood."

I fiddled with mine, nervous I'd cut off something important. Mya watched me, noticing my hesitation. "Here," she said, stepping closer. "I'll hold the stem in place, and you snip where it's discolored, okay?"

I bit my lip. "Sure, that… that helps."

She pinned the branch lightly with her free hand, pointing to a small section of wilted leaves. I carefully snipped it off. The severed piece fell away, revealing a healthier portion of the plant underneath. 

"See?" Mya said, smiling at me. "You did fine."

Warmth spread in my chest. "Thanks. I guess I just need to be careful."

We moved on to the next shrub, and then the next. After trimming, we raked up the dead foliage into a basket for composting. The sun beat down on us, and sweat prickled at my hairline. Mya's face glistened, yet she never complained, diligently focusing on each task. When she noticed me struggling with a stubborn branch, she stepped in to help again, her presence more reassuring than words. 

During these moments, I sometimes caught her gaze. She'd quickly look away, cheeks faintly pink. I assumed she was just focusing on the work, although part of me wondered if something else was on her mind. Then I'd scold myself internally for overthinking. My sister always said I was too anxious for my own good.

By early afternoon, the herbalist declared we'd done enough trimming for the day. She gave us water flasks and guided us to a shaded corner by the fence for a break. My legs felt wobbly from crouching, but the satisfaction of seeing tidier, healthier plants put a small grin on my face. 

Mya took a sip of water, then turned her gaze to me. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," I admitted, wiping my forehead. "But in a good way. It's nice to see immediate results, you know?"

She nodded, her expression content. "Same. I never realized how relaxing it could be, just focusing on one small task at a time. It's almost like therapy or something."

"That's a good way to put it," I said, leaning back against the fence. Across the garden, I spotted the herbalist inspecting our work, occasionally plucking a stray weed we missed. The light breeze carried the scent of crushed leaves and turned soil. 

Mya tapped her foot lightly, as if building up the courage to say something more. After a moment, she hesitated, then spoke softly. "I'm really glad we did this together, Trey. It feels… different than learning alone."

I studied her face, trying to decipher the emotion behind her words. She wore a timid smile, eyes partly downcast. "Me too," I admitted, not quite sure how to elaborate. "I don't think I'd have done half as well if you weren't here."

Her cheeks tinted. She looked away quickly. "You did your share. I just pointed out a weed or two."

I felt an odd twinge in my chest—something like gratitude, maybe something deeper. But I dismissed it, telling myself I was just relieved to have a friend in this new environment. "Still," I said, "thank you."

She nodded, lips curving in a small, pleased smile.

The herbalist approached, carrying a small basket of fresh herbs. "If you two are done resting, I'd like help sorting these leaves by type before we call it a day."

Mya straightened immediately, as if snapping out of a daydream. "Right. Of course. Show us what to do."

We sat at a wooden table near the cottage, sorting the herbs into piles. Some were used for basic healing tinctures, others for teas. Mya identified more than I did, so she led the process, occasionally pausing to let me smell the difference between certain leaves. At times, I felt slow, but she never rushed me. Each time I correctly recognized a plant, she'd give a soft nod of approval that warmed my chest.

Before sunset, the herbalist set down her basket. "That's enough. You've done more than I expected for a first-timer. I'll finish the rest myself."

I smiled, rubbing my sore hands together. Mya blew a stray leaf off the table and glanced up at the sky. The sun dipped low, painting everything in orange hues.

"Thank you for letting us help," I said to the herbalist.

She waved off my thanks with a gloved hand. "You earned it. And you earned your pay." She pointed toward the gate. "Now get yourselves back to the guild to report, or you won't get credited."

We nodded. I removed my gloves, dusting them off. Mya and I bowed our heads in gratitude, then we exited through the gate with slightly unsteady steps. 

The streets looked different in the late afternoon light—less frantic, with fewer pedestrians. Some shops had closed, their owners packing up for the day. Mya and I walked side by side, neither of us speaking for a while. 

When we passed the flower stall from earlier, she slowed, scanning the last of the blooms. Then she turned to me, a gentle glow in her eyes. "Should we hurry to the guild so we can get paid?"

I laughed, the tension in my muscles releasing a bit. "Yeah, I guess we should. Don't want to keep Nerissa waiting."

We reached the guild hall just as a group of fully armed adventurers was leaving. The inside was calmer than in the morning. Nerissa stood at her post, sorting paperwork. She glanced up and waved us over.

"You're back," she said, smiling. "How was your first quest, Trey?"

I set the stamped quest paper on the counter. "We did everything the herbalist needed: weeding, trimming, sorting leaves."

Mya stood beside me, nodding in agreement. "She seemed happy with our work."

Nerissa took the paper and checked it. "Looks like she marked it complete. That means payment." She opened a small lockbox, rummaging through a tray of coins. After a moment, she retrieved two iron coins, placing them on the counter with a metallic clink. "Here you go. That's your reward."

My breath caught in my throat. It was the first time I'd officially earned money from the guild. Even if it was just two iron coins—worth far less than silver or gold—the moment felt huge. I picked them up, smiling almost giddily.

"Two coins," I said, more to myself than anyone else. "Guess we split them, right?" I handed one to Mya. "You take this one."

She hesitated briefly, then took the coin with careful fingers. "Thank you," she said in a subdued voice. Her cheeks colored again, as if the weight of that single coin was more significant than it appeared.

"Well done," Nerissa said, leaning her elbows on the counter. "You're officially an errand boy now, Trey." Her eyes gleamed with a teasing warmth. "Looking forward to the next quest?"

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Yeah, I guess I am. It's not so scary anymore."

"Good," she said. "Now get some rest, both of you."

We thanked her and headed for the door. The evening air greeted us, cooler than before, tinged with the distant aroma of cooking fires. As we walked toward the main street, I turned the iron coin over in my hand, studying its simple design. I still couldn't believe I'd earned it myself.

"It's not much money," Mya said, glancing at her own coin. "But it feels… important."

"Definitely," I said. "Like a step forward."

She curled her fingers around the coin, slipping it into her pocket. "I don't think I'll spend this," she admitted softly. "It's my first guild earning, and… it feels special."

I smiled, though I was a bit confused as to why she'd never spend it. I chalked it up to sentimentality. "Yeah. I'll hold on to mine for a while, too. Maybe it'll remind me of my first real day as a guild member."

She nodded, her expression shy but radiant in the fading light. We continued walking until we reached the part of town where our paths diverged. I stopped, gazing at the intersection.

"Guess this is where we split," I said.

Her hands fidgeted around the hem of her shirt. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something else. But she simply nodded. "Right. I'd better head home. My mother might have a new batch of potions to brew."

I mustered a small grin. "Thanks for everything today. I wouldn't have done half as well without you."

She lowered her gaze, then offered a half smile, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm glad I could help." Then she looked up, her eyes warm yet nervous. "See you next time, Trey."

"Yeah," I said. "Take care."

I watched her walk away, briefly wondering if I'd missed an opportunity to say something more. But I brushed aside the thought and turned to head home. The city was quieter now, the sky dimming to a gentle purple. I found my way through the winding streets, mind replaying the day's events: the moment Mya rescued my precious herbs from my clumsy hands, the shared laughter when we realized how sweaty and dirty we'd gotten, and that odd flutter in my chest whenever I felt her gaze linger on me.

My sister's boots were by the front step when I arrived at our modest house. The door was partly open, a sliver of lamplight spilling out. As I approached, Myrina leaned in the doorway, arms folded, watching me with that signature grin of hers. She'd changed out of her heavier adventuring gear into something more casual.

"Well, look who finally shows up," she teased. "Have fun, little brother?"

I rubbed my neck, trying to hide my bashful smile. "Yeah. I… took my first errand quest with a friend. We helped an herbalist in her garden."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Not bad. Did you wreck her plants?"

I made a face. "No, we were careful. We even got paid." I reached into my pocket to show off the iron coin, but I only lifted it slightly before tucking it away again. Myrina's eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Ooh, big spender," she teased. "You can't buy much with that, but it's your first official earning as a guild member. How does it feel?"

I stepped inside, letting the door close behind me. "Feels… satisfying," I admitted. "Kinda proud, I guess."

She laughed, a bright sound that dispelled any lingering nerves. "I'm proud of you too, Trey. Come on, I saved some dinner. I want all the details."

Warmth flooded my chest, a blend of relief, exhaustion, and gratitude. I removed my shoes and followed her to the simple table at the center of our small home. Our house wasn't anything special—just two rooms and a kitchen area—but it was comfortable, and it was ours.

Myrina placed a bowl of stew in front of me, steaming with the aroma of meat and vegetables. I dug in, hunger clawing at my stomach. She sat across from me, resting her chin on her hands, obviously waiting for me to spill every detail. 

My day replayed in my mind: from the shaky moment I stood at the quest board, to Mya and her mother offering to accompany me, to the herbalist's patient instructions, to that final sense of accomplishment after finishing our tasks. While the memory of Mya lingered in a softer part of my thoughts, I wasn't sure how to articulate it, or if it even mattered beyond the fact that she'd been a good companion. 

Still, as Myrina's playful questions made me recount the day, I found myself smiling more often than usual. And by the time she finally let me finish my dinner in peace, my heart felt light in my chest. 

We ended the evening with a few shared laughs—her telling me about how some bigheaded adventurer had tried to show off and ended up losing half his gear in a muddy swamp, me recounting my near-disastrous weed-pulling skills. Eventually, we both headed to our respective sleeping areas. She gave me one last teasing grin, patting my shoulder.

"Keep up the good work, kid," she said. "Maybe soon you'll be up for bigger quests." 

I laughed nervously, not quite ready to imagine that just yet. But a small part of me dared to look forward to the next day, the next chance to learn something new. Maybe I'd team up with Mya again. Maybe I'd find a little more courage. 

I drifted off to sleep that night with the two iron coins resting on the small bedside table, reflecting a faint sliver of moonlight. It wasn't much money, but to me, it was priceless proof that I'd done something worthwhile. And in a quiet, unguarded moment, I found myself recalling Mya's gentle smile and the way her eyes lit up whenever she spotted a new plant. I didn't fully grasp why those thoughts warmed me so much. I only knew I hoped to see that gentle smile again soon.

That was how my second day as a G– rank trainee ended—nothing grand or heroic in the grand scheme of adventuring, but monumental to me. In a single errand, I'd learned more about myself, about the world, and about how small gestures of kindness could turn a daunting job into a rewarding experience. As I drifted into slumber, I clung to that sense of promise, wondering what tomorrow would bring. 

I had no idea I was already weaving small, fragile connections that might one day shape the rest of my life. For now, it was enough just to rest and cherish the day's small victories. And as night enveloped our little home, I listened to Myrina's soft breathing in the adjacent room, comforted by the knowledge that in this world of quests and challenges, I wasn't as alone as I'd once believed.