After Sylia walked away, I found myself standing in the guild hall, a strange weight settling over me. My hands were colder than they should've been, and a faint thrum of anxiety pulsed beneath my skin.
Despite everything they'd done, my mind wandered to the heroes and their fate. Were they even alive after the fox's attack? A small, irrational part of me worried I'd somehow be blamed if their bodies turned up one day, charred and lifeless.
But if I was honest, I wasn't sure I cared too much. They'd tried to kill me, after all. The weight of their betrayal sat like a stone in my gut, but I forced myself to shove it down.
There was no use dwelling on the past or on people who had treated me as expendable. Life had to go on. I would make it go on.
To distract myself, I scanned the guild's mission board. The familiar parchment and ink brought me a sense of relief.