"How did you find me?" Simon asked, as soon as the pain in his ribs had eased enough to let him walk without leaning fully on Corin. "I mean — first of all, why were you even awake?"
"I'd had an idea, about the papers," Corin said, without looking at him, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. "I woke up, went to your room to talk to you about it, and you weren't there. I went out to look for you."
"In a city you don't know, at night, and you found me in — what, twenty minutes?" Simon said, slowing his pace to look at her better. "That's not how luck works, Corin."
She didn't answer right away. She kept walking, her jaw tightening slightly, her eyes carefully avoiding his.
"It was luck," she said finally, but her voice came out a pitch higher than normal, the kind of off-note Simon, by now, recognized far too well.
"I don't need a skill to know that's bullshit," he said, stopping completely. "Tell me the truth."
Corin stopped too, her shoulders curling in slightly, as if the weight of what she was about to say were physical as much as emotional. "I used Object Location," she said, quietly, her eyes finally on him, but full of an embarrassment he hadn't yet seen her show so openly. "I'd marked your clothes. The first day, when you were still sleeping on the rug. Not with bad intentions — just... I was scared that one day you'd wake up and leave without saying anything. Like everyone does, sooner or later. I just wanted a way to find you, if that happened."
She said it all in one breath, as if saying it slowly would give her time to regret it halfway through.
Simon stayed silent for a moment, feeling something stir inside him that wasn't anger — not entirely, at least. He recognized that fear far too well. It was the same one that kept him up at night, the same one that had made him think, from the very first day, that she too would abandon him like everyone else.
"Don't do it again," he said, finally.
Corin lowered her eyes, nodding quickly. "I'll dissolve it as soon as I can, I promise, I—"
"I didn't mean the mark," Simon interrupted, shaking his head. "I meant not trusting me enough that you had to do it behind my back. We have a deal, Corin. I go with you, you teach me and help me. If you're afraid I'll disappear, ask me directly. You don't need to mark me like a lost dog."
He saw something loosen in her shoulders, a relief that crossed her face so quickly it was almost imperceptible, if it weren't for how used Simon had grown to reading her.
"Okay," she said, with a half smile slowly returning. "Deal."
"So, this idea," Simon said, starting to walk again. "The one about the papers."
"A guild," Corin said, her pace picking up energy again. "If you sign up with an adventurers' guild, you get an identification document — provisional, but valid for traveling. Wilhelmina Frost's Explorers' Guild has a small recruiting office in every major port, not just in Cajin — it's part of their job, mapping, exploring, and to do that they need people scattered everywhere. A provisional document should be enough to get you to Cajin without problems, and there you can register it officially. You're human, so there shouldn't be any particular complications once we're there."
Simon thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Fine," he said. "Better than sneaking around dressed as a sailor every time we need to get on a boat."
The guild office turned out to be a modest building, wedged between two larger houses, with a small carved wooden sign depicting a compass. Inside, the space was cramped but tidy — rolled-up maps tucked into wall shelves, an entire wall covered with handwritten job postings on parchments of various sizes, a worn wooden counter behind which sat a woman with her hair pulled into a severe braid, busy filling out a ledger.
They weren't alone. Near one of the walls, sitting on a bench, Simon immediately recognized two familiar faces — the same injured adventurers they'd met on the wrecked ship, still with fresh bandages, waiting to be registered or maybe just to rest.
The Beastman with the bandaged paw looked up the moment he saw them come in, and a tired smile spread across his muzzle. "Look who it is," he said, tilting his head slightly in greeting. "Already tired of playing sailor, human? Thought you'd found your calling, on that merchant's ship."
"Still deciding what I want to be when I grow up," Simon said, with a half smile that cost him a twinge from his still-aching ribs. "For now I'm trying a bit of everything."
Corin walked up to the counter, letting Simon linger a moment to exchange that brief greeting, and addressed the braided woman with a direct, practical tone.
"We'd like to register him," she said, tilting her head toward Simon. "For the guild."
The woman looked up, quickly assessing Simon head to toe with a professional expression, devoid of any particular curiosity. "Name?" she asked, dipping a pen in the inkwell.
"Simon," he said, stepping up to the counter.
"Surname?"
Simon hesitated for a fraction of a second — he'd never needed one, in this world, and no one had ever asked him before. The first thing that came to mind, for no real reason, was the surname of an old coworker that had always struck him as vaguely exotic.
"Hans," he said.
The woman noted the name without asking questions, then looked up again. "To officially register, you first need to complete a task," she said, with the mechanical tone of someone who's repeated the same formula hundreds of times. "Unpaid, the first time — it's only meant to verify a new member's reliability before assigning real work. After that, the identification document becomes permanent, and you'll be able to take on paid jobs like anyone else."
Corin nodded, as if she'd expected as much, and the woman turned to the wall of postings, pulling one off with a quick motion and handing it across the counter.
They left the small office shortly after, a folded sheet of parchment tucked into Simon's pocket alongside a small wooden document engraved with his name — false surname included — and the guild's compass symbol.
"So," Simon said, spreading his arms with a deliberately theatrical tone. "What incredible adventure awaits us, pray tell?"
Corin shot him a sideways glance, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "We need to go to a human village, half a day from here," she said. "They need someone to figure out why the water in their fields has gotten infected."
Simon stared at her for a long moment.
"Infected water," he repeated, flatly. "My first, incredible, epic adventure in this world full of magic, dragons, and Beastmen who break your ribs for fun, is figuring out why a field smells rotten."
"Welcome to the real world of adventuring," Corin said, already heading toward the city gates. "It's usually a lot less epic than the songs make it sound."