Arielle's Theory

Damien and Arielle walked through the dimly lit streets of Westmont, the soft glow of lanterns flickering along the paths leading back to the Mercenary Guild building. The evening air was cool, carrying the faint scent of wood smoke and fresh earth.

Despite the calmness of the night, Damien's mind was far from at ease. The conversation with the Town Lord still lingered in his thoughts, twisting into something heavier. People from the Eastern Shirefort Continent were looking for the savior of Westmont. They didn't know it was him, but if they ever did…

He sighed, shaking the thoughts away.

Beside him, Arielle walked with an easy stride, but there was something different about her tonight. She wasn't ranting or teasing him like she usually would. Instead, she seemed deep in thought, as if debating something internally.

As they neared the guild building, she suddenly spoke.

"Damien," she said, her voice quieter than usual.