The guild hall smelled of parchment, leather, and too many bodies crowded under one roof.

  Aanya wove her way past a group of laughing mercenaries to the notice board, scanning for jobs with the big red rookie-friendly stamp.

  Her fingers hovered over a posting for herb gathering. Easy coin, if a bit dull. A cleaner contract lay beside it — clearing pests from the grain storage near the east gate. The pay was barely enough to buy lunch, but it was work.

  “You look like someone picking between bread and porridge,” said a voice behind her.

  Aanya turned to find Darin, a freckled boy just a year older, leaning against the wall with a smug grin. “Not much for new hands this week,” he went on. “I’m headed to the river caves — actual adventure. You should tag along.”

  “Last time you went ‘adventuring’ you came back with a twisted ankle,” Aanya reminded him. “And a sack of moldy mushrooms.”

  He laughed and waved her off. “Suit yourself.”

  Aanya plucked the herb-gathering posting from the board, tucking it into her satchel. It wasn’t glamorous, but every coin brought her closer to the real goal.

  ***

  Marin’s forge was alive with noise by the time Aanya arrived. Sparks spat from the anvil in bright arcs as Marin’s hammer struck, her braid sticking to her temple with sweat.

  “You’re late,” Marin called without looking up.

  “I was picking jobs,” Aanya said, dropping the posting on a workbench.

  Marin snatched it up with tongs, eyeing it like a piece of scrap. “Herbs again? You’re going to smell like a healer’s cupboard forever.”

  “It pays,” Aanya said, slipping onto her usual perch — an overturned crate by the far wall. “And I’m saving for a sword.”

  Marin arched a brow. “A sword, huh? Since when are you serious about all this?”

  “Since the rift in the market square,” Aanya replied, tracing a finger along the hilt of her small forest knife. “I want to be ready next time. And someday, I’m getting into the magic academy.”

  Marin set the hammer down, leaning on the bench. “Three years is a long wait.”

  “Then I’ll spend them getting stronger,” Aanya said. “Small jobs, maybe some low-risk rifts. Enough to buy the gear I need.”

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  A slow grin spread across Marin’s face. “If you’re serious, I’ve got an idea. We start a business together. I make weapons and gear, you bring back rare materials from rifts. We sell to adventurers and split the profits.”

  “A shop?” Aanya repeated.

  “A shop,” Marin confirmed, “with a base attached. Living upstairs, work below. We’ll need space, storage, and a location close enough to the guild to get contracts fast.”

  Aanya imagined it — a warm-lit room with racks of blades, enchanted trinkets glimmering on the counter, maps spread across a big oak table. A place that was theirs.

  “There’s one property,” Marin said, lowering her voice. “Old place on the west road. People call it the mage’s house. Been empty for decades.”

  “Empty because it’s falling apart?”

  Marin hesitated. “Not exactly. Some say it’s haunted. Others claim the rooms change shape. My father says the last owner worked strange magic and vanished without warning.” She picked up the hammer again, the metal ringing sharp. “Still, it’s big, has a cellar, and it’s priced for someone desperate to sell.”

  Aanya let the idea simmer. “How much?”

  Marin named a sum that made her whistle low. “That’s a year’s work, at least.”

  “Then we start now,” Aanya said. “You keep hammering, I’ll keep taking contracts. By this time next year, it’s ours.”

  “Deal,” Marin said, striking the blade in a clean, decisive arc.

  ***

  Later, with the day’s work done, they walked through the market together. Lanterns were being lit, the air thick with the smell of roasting chestnuts and spiced wine.

  As they passed the west road, Aanya slowed. There it was — the mage’s house. Its roofline loomed over an overgrown garden, windows shuttered tight. The paint had long since peeled away, but the door looked strangely untouched by time.

  For just a heartbeat, she thought she heard a faint hum, like the low note of a string. Marin glanced at her.

  “Creepy, right?”

  Aanya didn’t answer. She just looked at the house and smiled faintly. “It’ll be ours.”

  Somewhere behind those walls, something waited.