A suit jacket and trousers in black. A ribbon tied in a bow at the neck.
The uniform had been made to order, and the briefest touch confirmed that the cloth
was of very high quality. Her first impression upon putting it on was that it was
surprisingly easy to move in. And why not? The battle gear adventurers wore was of
similarly excellent construction, after all.
That said, the uniform's feel wasn't so very fine that she forgot it had been issued to
her at no charge.
Eina looked at her faint reflection in the window and felt rather timid, in spite of
herself.
"I'll take you to meet the rest of the staff now. As was explained yesterday, you all have
been posted to the clerical office. You'll likely be handling routine work and receptionist
duties, so bear that in mind… Tulle, are you listening?"
"Er… My apologies!" Eina tore her gaze away from the window when the middle-aged
chienthrope leading the new recruits called her out.
In the long hall, there were several demi-humans also wearing the uniform. As they
passed by Eina, each one of their expressions tightened unpleasantly. Next to Eina was
Misha Frott, her friend from school, whose cherry blossom–colored hair swayed as
she moved; she was even more nervous than Eina was.
Some of the bystanders smiled at them, perhaps charmed by how green they seemed.
Eina felt a flush creeping up her cheeks and pointlessly adjusted her glasses, then lent
her attention to the explanation coming from the person who would be serving as her
boss. She followed behind him like a meek little fawn as the spring sunlight fell across
her through the window.
Soon, they reached the room that was their destination.
At its end, the passage opened up into a large marble hall crowded with adventurers,
whose gaze immediately fell upon the new employees.
Supporting these men and women, who ventured again and again into a den of
monsters in search of fame and fortune, was now Eina's job.
Eina Tulle. Fourteen years old.
She had joined the organization responsible for managing the great labyrinth of
Orario—the Guild.
The reason Eina had chosen the Guild as her workplace came down to a simple factor:
money.
The Labyrinth City was often called the center of the world, and the Guild was its nerve
center, so the pay was good. Depending on the circumstances, Guild employees could
make more than lower-tier adventurers, to say nothing of ordinary laborers.
But Eina didn't want money for its own sake. The reason she wanted it was so that she
could send it home.
Eina was a half-elf; her mother was a high elf who had escaped her forest home along
with a certain queen, but the outside world's air seemed not to have agreed with her,
for she was frequently sick and bedridden. Eina's human father loved her mother and
worked constantly to support Eina and her younger sister. She had fond, vivid memories
of her mother smiling gently as she coughed in bed and of her father holding her close
in a warm, kind embrace despite being exhausted from his day's work.
And even in such an environment, Eina's parents sent her to the School District, for
which she was very grateful. At the same time, she made up her mind to pay them back
by acquiring as much knowledge and experience as she could.
Having little martial (which was to say, athletic) aptitude, Eina chose the academic
path, and—especially as someone who had never found studying particularly difficult
—her apparent potential quickly opened the possibility of joining the Guild.
Eina's good grades won her one of the School District's limited recommendations,
which led to employment at the Guild's headquarters.
In the single dormitory room provided to each of the Guild's staff, Eina wrote in Koine
on a sheet of parchment: As I wrote before, I'm now formally employed as a member of
the Guild…
In her letter to her family, Eina recounted recent events, then (mixing in some jokes)
wrote of her worries about the future. Her new environment was often confusing, and
it would have been a lie to say she didn't feel forlorn at times. Sometimes she just
wanted to hear the voices of her father and mother, or even of her younger sister, who
was so much younger than Eina that she wouldn't remember her older sibling's face.
And yet, at the same time, there were things she looked forward to.
Eina hadn't joined the Guild just for the sake of her family. She was excited at the
prospect of broadening her horizons by working as a Guild member here in the "center
of the world," Orario. There were so many people; so many adventurers; so many great
deeds.
There were things in this city that Eina only knew from her reading, and doubtless
other discoveries and thrills that were not recorded in any book. Her excitement and
interest would surely be justified.
She knew that this was the right place for her.
The long brown fall of her hair down her back shook minutely as her quill scratched
letters into the parchment on her desk. Her graceful features still had a touch of
childishness about them as a faint smile began to play about the half-elf girl's lips.
"…Right, I've got to keep at it." Eina finished the letter with words of affection to her
parents, then sealed it.
She narrowed her eyes at the sunlight filtering in through the window and collected
her focus once more.
"My name is Eina Tulle. As of today, I will be serving as your adviser. I'm very pleased
to be working with you!"
Eina's first job—in addition to the clerical duties she had as a matter of course—was
to act as a research adviser to adventurers, which she assumed would only happen
after receiving appropriate training. After all, the receptionists were the Guild's pride
and joy.
As one of the people who had daily contact with actual adventurers, knowledge of
what they faced day in and day out as they ventured into the Dungeon was absolutely
essential. In addition to generally supporting their progress in the labyrinth, she was
also an important element in greener adventurers' educations.
Having been thoroughly instructed by her boss, Eina finally introduced herself to her
first adventurer in the confines of a real consultation box.
"A half-elf, huh?"
The adventurer across from her was named Maris Hackard. She was a human girl, her
blue hair was cropped short, and she wore a somehow imperious expression on her
face. She was fifteen years old, and at a slender 160 celch, she was slightly taller than
Eina.
She, like Eina, was new to the Guild—a novice adventurer who'd just completed her
registration.
Eina forced a smile despite her nervousness as Maris intently studied her before
dramatically heaving a great sigh.
"I gotta say, I recall asking for, like, a real tough-looking old dwarf… not a half-blood
barely outta diapers."
"Wha—?"
Eina wondered if this is what she should expect from all aspiring adventurers.
The nasty way Maris vented her frustration made Eina guess she had a bad upbringing.
She regarded the half-elf who hadn't even gotten used to her uniform with open
resentment and continued her rant. "Man, you're slow. Can't believe I'm getting a total
rookie. My luck's not worth a damn, that's for sure."
Eina was speechless for a moment, her shoulders trembling at the contempt she was
being shown—and then exploded. "Y-you're a rookie adventurer yourself! And your
familia's just getting started, too! You've got some nerve complaining about me!"
"What the hell? Just so you know, I'm gonna be a first-tier adventurer, got it? You really
think you can talk to me like that?!"
"I'll thank you not to talk about being a first-tier adventurer when you barely know
left from right! You're about a hundred years too early for that!"
"You wanna say that again?!"
All she'd managed to start was a vicious argument.
An excellent academic record, a sharp mind, and the highest standard of conduct—
Eina had all three, but she was, admittedly, young.
In the well-soundproofed consultation box, the heated exchange continued with no
signs of slowing down. Both girls were on their feet as their argument grew fiercer,
having entirely forgotten themselves. Eina, in particular, had completely forgotten that
the girl across from her was an adventurer. The smooth start she'd had in mind for her
career as an adviser was a distant memory.
However, the fact remained that, terrible first impression and all, Maris was the first
adventurer Eina would be taking responsibility for.
"Don't get all high and mighty just 'cause you've got decent tits, halfie."
"Why are you looking at my chest?! Anyway, mine are normal; you're just flat !"
"Rrrrrrrragh! That's it !"
The two red-faced girls continued to butt heads. At their feet was a neglected crate,
which contained a shortsword and armor that glowed expectantly. They were part of
a supply package intended to be given to new adventurers but went entirely ignored.
"I cannot believe her!"
That evening, at a tavern in the Guild-endorsed, high-class residential neighborhood
where she lived, Eina vented her frustration about the encounter with Maris.
"She started complaining about her luck as soon as she saw my face! If that's what
some of them are like, no wonder people get the wrong idea about adventurers!"
Eina wasn't particularly drunk, but her voice was getting louder. Misha Frott, the
human sitting across from her and an old school friend of Eina's, made a wide-eyed
expression. "Aaah… It's been a while since I've gotten to see you get this mad." They
were sitting at a two-person table in the corner of the tavern. Misha sipped her juice,
and her soft-pink hair rustled as she cocked her head. "And since they're an adventurer
you're responsible for, it bugs you that much more, right?"
"That, and she was just so rude! Saying prejudiced things like 'halfie,' I mean, really…"
Eina grumbled, her lip twisting into a scowl—as though compelled to by the elven
blood that ran through her veins.
Meanwhile, Misha couldn't help but break into a grin at seeing her normally mature,
composed friend finally act her young age.
"What about you, Misha? You met your first adventurer client today, too, right?"
"Yeah, he was an older animal person, tall…" She giggled. "He was kinda hot," said
Misha in answer to Eina's question, her cheeks coloring a bit. She continued relating
her evaluation, which included details like "He had a handsome nose," "His fluffy ears
were so cute," and "But he was really gentlemanly."
"Uh… Misha, you know that mixing personal and professional relationships isn't—"
"I—I know! I know, okay?!" Misha waved her hands frantically as soon as Eina drove a
stake through the heart of the sweetness that had begun to creep into her narration.
The two friends continued to chat about what had happened over the day, sharing
their little joys and sadnesses.
Being a Guild-endorsed tavern, there wasn't an adventurer in sight, but it also wasn't
an overly formal establishment, and the happily raucous voices of the Guild-affiliated
magic-stone masons who were clearly enjoying their ale spoke of a prospering pub.
Once Eina had finished venting, the chatterbox Misha moved on to other subjects as
was her habit. "You met Lord Ouranos? He's super intense, right? I was so nervous
when I introduced myself, and then he goes 'I see,' all deep and solemnlike. Oh, but the
people in the office are really nice, thank goodness!"
Eina flashed a chagrined smile at her ever-voluble friend, while admitting to herself
that it was understandable—their environment was dizzyingly different from what
they were used to.
"But there's so much that receptionists have to do besides adviser duties… I hope I'm
up to it," said Misha.
"You definitely are, Misha."
"I don't know, I'm not clever like you, Eina… I'm sure the Guild only let me in as your
sidekick anyway."
"That's not true!"
Ever since their school days, Eina and Misha had tended to be grouped together as a
set. Misha herself was only too aware of this fact, which led to her self-deprecations,
likening herself to an extra bauble that went wherever Eina did.
Sure, if you took your eyes off Misha for an instant, she'd tend to slack off a bit; she
was the type who didn't start studying until right before the test, which had gotten
Eina burned many times. The human girl exemplified the words "I can do it if I really
try!"
Receptionists were chosen in part for their appearance, Eina knew, but there was no
question that Misha had gotten into the Guild thanks to her own blood, sweat, and
tears. Her reason for joining had been a carefree "If Eina's doing it, then I'm doing it,
too," but Eina herself took great solace in that.
"You'll be fine, Misha. We're both gonna hang in there, got it?"
A smile bloomed on Misha's uncertain face. "…Yeah! If you say it's gonna be okay, I get
the feeling it will!"
Eina returned the smile.
Eina's days of getting used to Orario continued.
Thanks to her coworkers' generosity in explaining things and teaching her, day by day
Eina gradually learned the ins and outs of her new job. Occasionally she would take
over the management of a high-tier adventurer from one of the senior advisers, and
then learned from her interactions with those adventurers, too.
Taking a single step out of Guild Headquarters meant she was immediately faced with
the sights and sounds of the various incidents and feuds that were constantly breaking
out in the city.
When Eina had first joined the Guild, the situation in the city had gotten bad enough
that people had taken to calling it the Time of Unrest, and while it was beginning to be
brought under control, with the ever-present carousing of the various over-merry
gods and the feuding between goddesses, the streets never wanted for turmoil.
Between the hustle and bustle of seeing her first Monsterphilia put on by Ishtar
Familia and the Guild, the fighting and war games that came along with it, and the
return of multiple goddesses to the heavens, it was more than enough to teach Eina
that Orario would never be boring.
Both Freya Familia and Loki Familia steadily racked up achievements during their
Dungeon expeditions that were truly awe-inspiring.
Loki Familia had an individual whom Eina knew very well—a high elf to whom she'd
owed a tremendous debt of gratitude since childhood—but she made no attempt to
come forward and reintroduce herself. She had to consider the absolute neutrality
that the Guild needed to maintain, to say nothing of the diffidence she felt toward one
of the absolute best adventurers living in the city.
Before long, her second spring in Orario arrived.
Eina had begun to take on receptionist duties now, and the number of adventurers she
advised had risen to four.
One of them was Maris, whose progress was a sight to behold.
"Eina! I reached the tenth floor!"
It was evening in Guild Headquarters. Maris called out to Eina, who had stepped away
from the front desk.
She approached with a full coin purse, and Eina wondered if she'd come to change
some money. Her well-used leather armor and the Guild-issued steel shortsword she'd
outgrown were testament to her accomplishments as a warrior.
As Maris waved a carefree greeting, Eina sputtered, half in outrage and half in shock
as she digested the girl's words. "Wha—? You've already pushed past… Wait, you
haven't been listening to a thing I've said! The fog comes out starting at the tenth floor,
and if you don't take care when exploring—"
Maris was part of an adventuring party, but reaching the tenth floor in the span of a
year was still impressive progress for what was essentially a brand-new familia. Eina
was still an inexperienced Guild employee, but she was well aware of just how
significant Maris's achievements were.
"Ugh, enough, enough! Enough scolding, already. Let's go drink!"
"Adventurers and Guild employees shouldn't socialize too often! People will get the
wrong idea. I make it a policy never to mix business and—"
"It's my treat, so quit arguing and come on!"
Eina found herself bodily dragged to a drinking session by the high-spirited Maris.
After she'd changed out of her Guild uniform to avoid obvious misunderstandings,
they proceeded to a tavern Maris frequented in the busy shopping district in the city's
southern quarter called The Flaming Wasp.
"Eina, you know you've got quite a reputation among adventurers, right? Everyone
talks about the adorable School District–educated receptionist at the Guild. I swear,
elves sure have it made," teased Maris over the constant din of carousing adventurers.
She took a swig of the tavern's specialty, a ruby-red mead.
"M-Maris!"
Eina and Maris had, over the past year, managed to become rather good friends. Owing
to the fundamental nature of their relationship as adventurer and adviser, there had
been countless times when they'd butted heads, but by now even those arguments
were interspersed with enjoyable banter. The only thing that hadn't changed was how
Maris still constantly harangued Eina.
Maris was well into her cups, and her face was as red as her mead. Eina, drinking only
water, sighed.
"But, hell… I mean… you're a good one, Eina."
"…Where'd that come from?"
Maris had been rowdily cheerful thanks to her progress in the Dungeon, but her tone
suddenly shifted. The flush didn't leave her face, but a happy smile lingered on her
lips. "I mean, you're as lecture-y as ever, and your big brain gives you a big head, but…
I was lucky. To get you as my adviser, I mean."
"…"
"I'm an unwashed idiot, but you'll explain things as many times as it takes for me to
get it. Even today, the stuff you taught me about orcs and imps came in real handy.
I'm… I'm sorry, y'know, for calling you a rookie and being a real jerk to you the first
time we met."
"Maris…"
It was true—Maris the typical, reckless adventurer and Eina, the serious, studious
adviser, meshed well, each bringing something to the table that the other lacked.
There were many situations in the Dungeon where brute force alone was not enough.
Maris continued where she left off, borrowing courage from her mead in order to
finish her thanks.
"I'm real glad I met you."
As Eina listened to Maris's murmured words, almost inaudible under the clamor of
the tavern, she felt something bloom within her that she hadn't experienced since
starting at the Guild.
Or perhaps it was better to say that the force of Maris's gaze impressed the feeling
onto her.
As she struggled with the weight of an emotion she couldn't easily define, Eina blurted
out a question to hide behind. "S-so, Maris, why did you become an adventurer?"
There were more than a few people who came to Orario to take up adventuring
because of a personal problem of some kind. It was generally understood that it was
poor manners to pry into their circumstances more than was necessary.
Eina had never asked a personal question like this before, and Maris was silent for a
moment before replying. "I wanna show 'em all. My parents, for throwing me away.
Everyone who ever made fun of me. I wanna become somebody amazing, like a firsttier adventurer. That'd show 'em." Then, after revealing her past as a street urchin, she
broke into a smile. "And… yeah, maybe I wanna do it for my god, too, for picking me up
outta the dirt."
Behind her glasses, Eina's emerald eyes fondly watched Maris's suddenly bashful,
awkward demeanor.
The general impression of adventurers was that they were violent, reckless people.
That wasn't incorrect, but it wasn't entirely accurate, either.
Maris's reasons for becoming an adventurer weren't very different from why Eina
decided to join the Guild to support her family. Knowing this inspired both a deep
empathy and simple happiness in Eina.
The young half-elf felt her resolve deepen. She would continue to support and
encourage her adventurers.
It was like she'd suddenly and clearly seen the point of it all.
"Tulle."
"Chief Rehmer."
It had been a month since that day when Eina had gotten closer to Maris. Eina was
walking down a hallway in Guild Headquarters when her boss, a chienthrope, called
out to her.
He had been Eina and Misha's teacher and mentor when they'd first entered the Guild,
and Eina still learned things from him to this day.
"So, it's been a year since you and Frott started here. Have you gotten used to the work
yet?"
"Yes, sir—thanks to you," said Eina as her slim-faced superior fell into step alongside
her. "Recently I've started becoming closer to my adventurers… It's good to finally feel
like I'm truly helping them," she said, describing her current state of mind. As she
thought back to her conversation with Maris a few days earlier, she explained that she
hoped to be able to keep assisting with her charges.
Her chienthrope superior silently watched a happy expression rise to her face. "Ah,
you and Frott still haven't…"
Still hadn't what? Eina was about to ask, when Rehmer continued.
"Tulle… this is the view of someone who's been working at the Guild quite a bit longer
than you have," he began solemnly. "It's better if you don't empathize with your
adventurers."
"What?" Eina froze in mid-step as her superior kept walking.
"It will only lead to suffering. This is just my personal opinion, but…"
"Chief…?"
"…I expect that most of the staff would agree with me." He left Eina behind with her
thoughts as he continued to walk down the hall.
Eina would not understand the full meaning of his words until several days later.
That day, Eina was heading to Babel to conduct an inspection.
It was twilight, and a deep-red light suffused the air.
A steady stream of adventurers was emerging from the stairs that led underground
into the Dungeon. In the broad atrium of the tower's first floor, Eina and her fellow
inspectors were finishing their reports and preparing to return to Guild Headquarters.
"…?"
There was a swell of commotion. Eina turned in the direction of the noise, which was
coming from the adventurers, just in time to see several bodies being carried up from
underground.
Evidently an adventuring party had been wiped out. The sound of the adventurers'
voices carried all the way to a dazed Eina's ears. She gathered that the bodies had been
discovered by some top-tier adventurers who had taken the trouble to retrieve them
out of a sense of professional respect.
The more experienced of Eina's coworkers at the Guild wore cold, blank expressions,
or else pressed their lips together tightly, pushing some nameless emotion down, as
the bodies were lined up in the spacious atrium.
And there among them was one that Eina recognized.
"Wha—?"
Battered leather armor, a bent sword still clutched in a stiff hand, and that familiar
blue hair. The bloodied human girl was very clearly Maris Hackard.
There was no mistaking it.
It was impossible to not recognize her.
Maris's corpse stared vacantly up through half-opened eyes.
The body was missing an arm.
Most of the other bodies, too, had been torn apart, telling a gruesome tale.
The next moment, Eina collapsed to her knees.
"Those wounds… an infant dragon, you think?"
"Yeah, that's what I figure. Looks like they didn't even put up much of a fight. Just awful."
"Dunno whether they just had the bad luck to run into one, or whether they set an
ambush without knowing their own limits… Either way, this stuff happens all the time."
The adventurers' callous chatter passed right over Eina. Her mind was frozen as she
knelt there helplessly on the floor. The sight at the end of her gaze—that cooling
corpse—wouldn't let her avert her eyes from harsh reality.
It had been one year since she'd become an adviser.
Of all the adventurers she'd been responsible for, Maris was the first casualty.
"Tulle! Hey, Tulle! Ah, dammit!!"
The voices of her coworkers calling her name felt distant.
Her vision turned dark, as though to escape. Her consciousness dimmed. But Maris's
face, that blood-streaked visage, was burned into her retinas and would not go away.
She knew. She knew that this was Orario, the Labyrinth City. She knew that every day
adventurers entered the Dungeon, and that many of them would never return.
Of course she was aware of this. It was impossible not to be.
But Eina had never imagined that it would apply to her —to Maris.
It had always felt like something that only happened to other people, elsewhere.
It seemed impossible that this adventurer she'd been laughing and chattering with
just the previous day, her irreplaceable friend, was gone.
For the first time, Eina experienced the death of someone close to her.
As though Maris's loss was some kind of turning point, all the adventurers Eina was
responsible for died.
Even the top-tier adventurer whose responsibility she inherited to replace Maris
ventured to the middle levels and failed to return.
—"It's better if you don't empathize with your adventurers."
Eina now understood the true meaning of her superior's advice.
The unending sense of loss needed no explanation.
In all likelihood, most members of the Guild, including her superior, had experienced
many moments just like this, if not worse.
I… I just…
It was more regret than sadness that consumed Eina. She was a Dungeon expedition
adviser. Wasn't there something she could have offered to her adventurers? Wasn't
there something more she should've done for them—for her ?
—I let her die.
The thought burrowed its way into Eina's chest.
"That's arrogance, Tulle," said a werewolf woman, one of the most experienced
receptionists, as though she'd seen right through Eina. "There are safer jobs. But they
chose to be adventurers. For money, for fame, or just searching for some idiotic sense
of excitement in chasing 'the unknown' or something… there's no way we can save
people that stupid."
"M-Miss Rose…"
"It was their choice to go on an adventure. No matter how much we might try to talk
them out of it, there'd be no point," said the werewolf receptionist grumpily as she
played with her red hair.
Eina slowly looked up from where she sat at her desk, motionless as a doll,
accomplishing absolutely no work.
Even Eina's listless gaze was able to gather that, in addition to Rose's irritation, there
was also a hint of grief coming from her.
More days passed.
"This job is hard…" Misha let slip one evening when it was just her and Eina left in the
office.
Two cups of black tea were now quite cool where they sat on a table.
One of Misha's adventurers had died, too.
"Nobody comes back, do they? No matter how strong, or how stylish, or how kind…
they just…"
"Misha…"
Misha had been visibly enamored by the adventurer in question—or possibly even
developed distinctly romantic feelings—but now she just sat and shook, looking
down, as several teardrops fell on her thighs.
Eina had never seen her normally cheerful friend look so miserable.
"Hey, Eina… can I sit with you?"
"…Sure, of course."
Misha moved over to the couch next to Eina and began to cry. She buried her face in
Eina's shoulder and tried to muffle her sobs.
That day as she held her friend close, Eina, too, wept.
Thanks to Misha, she let herself cry and finally began to mourn Maris's death.
After that, many more died, and as the days of loss and grief passed, Eina began to
understand something.
It was an adventurer's "adventure" that led them to death.
A moment's carelessness or pride, or even the courage to accomplish great deeds—
these all became scythes that mercilessly harvested their lives.
Eina began to associate the word adventure with recklessness.
More times than she could count, Eina failed to dissuade adventurers from throwing
their lives away on these "adventures."
It's hard. It's so, so hard, you know? But…
Eina did try to be like the other receptionists and workers and distance herself from
the adventurers. But she stopped short of fully embracing that lifestyle.
She saw Maris in each of the adventurers she advised, and instead of running from
that sadness, she faced it—and them—head-on.
If I abandon them, it would only be worse.
The excitement and curiosity she'd felt when she first joined the Guild had become
something different: a sense of duty.
While she wore a smile as a mask among her coworkers and even Misha, who all
distanced themselves from the adventurers, Eina chose to be even more deeply
involved with their efforts.
"Now, then, Ruvis, let's study up through here, shall we?"
"Uhh… Miss Eina, could we please take a break soon…?"
Eina held classes to thoroughly beat knowledge of the Dungeon into all the attendees.
She showed no mercy, whether they were novices just starting out or higher-tier
adventurers she'd inherited from another adviser.
She would not let them have their "adventures."
Determined to follow through, Eina did absolutely everything she could on behalf of
her adventurers.
Even if they were on the verge of leveling up, she carefully outlined a wide variety of
preparations and countermeasures a party could use, and just as carefully provided
for their actual deployment. Occasionally she would even assign quests to adventurers
she particularly trusted and descend into the Dungeon with them, with all the risk that
entailed.
She needed to experience the danger that awaited adventurers in that deadly place.
"Dormul, you got these all wrong! Do them over!"
"Mercy, please, Eina my sweet!"
At first, her fellow Guild workers scowled, but eventually they found there was nothing
to say in the face of Eina's unyielding persistence.
And Misha started to change, too.
"Hey, Eina, I've just taken charge of a rookie animal person… What weapon do you
think I should recommend for them?"
"Misha… All right! Let's figure this out, shall we?"
At the very least Misha seemed to no longer be limited by her job description and had
started thinking in terms of what exactly she could do for her adventurers, which
naturally led her to ask Eina for advice. And her bottomless well of good cheer had
returned.
Eina could not have been happier.
Time passed.
Before she knew it, Eina had grown taller than Maris.
She had cut her long hair, too.
The physique that Maris had once derided as "decent" grew more mature as Eina
approached adulthood.
And then, in the fifth spring of her employment at the Guild—
"—I—I want to be an adventurer!"
—Eina met a boy with hopes of becoming an adventurer.
"J-just to confirm, is your adventurer registration here correct?"
"Yes!"
He was a human with the white hair and rubellite eyes of a rabbit.
As she handled his registration at her window, Eina smiled nervously at his enthusiastic
nodding. Once she'd had him fill out the necessary particulars on a sheet of Guild
parchment, she ran her eyes over the form as he'd completed it.
His name was Bell Cranell. He was a human, like Maris had been. And he was even
younger than she had been.
Eina's expression darkened for an instant. She had seen so many aspiring adventurers
like him, still barely out of childhood. But she soon reaffixed her professional smile
and finished processing his registration.
After telling the boy to come again tomorrow, she returned briefly to the back office.
"That one isn't gonna last long. No way."
"R-Rose!"
"C'mon, Tulle, even you know when someone's got no chance. How many years have
you been working here?" said the werewolf half-jokingly, having apparently watched
the entire exchange.
After enough years at the Guild, its employees got a sense for whether a new
adventurer knocking at their doors was going to make it.
By Eina's estimation, the boy wasn't a particularly great candidate, either. At the very
least, her instinct told her that he didn't have much talent, which meant that she had
no ready response when her senior receptionist hit the bull's-eye like that.
"What kind of adviser did he request?"
"Er… a woman and, if possible, an elf."
"You hear that? Kid wants an elf! Sophie, you wanna take him?"
Sophie was a beautiful elven woman who had entered the Guild at the same time Rose
had and was always among the top two most popular employees. She refused the offer
with extreme bluntness. "That's quite all right. It's a waste to put time and effort into
adventurers who aren't going to last."
"Rose! Sophie! It's awful to just write him off like that!" Eina protested indignantly.
The werewolf receptionist grinned. "In that case," she said, "want to bet on how long
that kid has?"
The other receptionists who were on break immediately pounced on the opportunity
to bet on the boy's future.
"I'm in at six months."
"In that case, I'll take two."
"Two weeks, I figure."
"If you're in, come see me with some coin!" said Rose.
When it became clear that her coworkers were actually going to place bets with Rose,
Eina had to protest. "Y-you guys, this is wrong!"
She understood that the flippant wager was their way of coping. It was a joke to divert
their minds from the tragedy of yet another adventurer's impending death. Eina knew
that, but she still couldn't accept it.
The sound of Eina's raised voice made Misha turn around and look over her shoulder
from where she sat at the reception window as the other receptionists continued to
tease Eina. "You say that, Eina, but it's not like you think that boy's going to make it as
an adventurer, either, right?"
In other words, she was afraid to bet real money that he'd make it longer than six
months.
"—!"
If Eina had conceded the point, the joke would probably have ended there. But Eina,
who prayed for the safety of adventurers more than anyone else, refused to budge.
"Fine! I'll be his adviser, then!" she shouted defiantly. She would keep him alive. They'd
all see.
"W-wait a second, Tulle!"
"Management's already given you other responsibilities. You don't have room for
another adventurer, do you?"
"It's just one more, so I'll be fine! And yeah, maybe I'm only half, but I'm still an elf!"
she insisted, daring the other receptionists to find fault. Now that it had come to this,
nobody could stop Eina. "If I win, all betting stops permanently , is that clear?" she said,
and then left the office. She had to go and apply to be his adviser.
Eina swore to herself that she would not let that boy die.
Then.
After all that talk yesterday…
The next day, Eina was walking down a hallway in Guild Headquarters with a much
cooler head. She was feeling a bit regretful about her outburst the previous day, but
she had no intention of going back on her word.
She would keep that young adventurer alive.
She would continue to support adventurers and cheer them on.
Her thoughts turned to Maris and the others. Their deaths. The promises she had
made to each of them.
She took a deep breath as she reached the front of the consultation box. Then, holding
three thick volumes of study materials, she knocked on the door.
"—Ah!"
Eina smiled at the wide-eyed boy who was waiting for her inside. "As of today I'll be
acting as your adviser. My name is Eina Tulle. I look forward to working with you!"