William spent the better part of the morning simply moving through his apartment, testing the new weight of his stats in small, careful motions, before curiosity and a nagging sense of obligation finally pulled him back out into the city. Reyes was still recovering somewhere in the Association’s healing wing, and after everything the man had bought him with his own body, William wasn’t about to let a stiff shoulder keep him from checking in.
The small guardian trotted along beside him through the fourth district’s morning crowds, drawing occasional glances but nothing more, indistinguishable from any other hunter’s companion beast to eyes that hadn’t seen what it could become. William had already decided, somewhere in the quiet hours before dawn, that he’d keep it that way for as long as possible.
’Let them think it’s just a puppy. Let them think whatever they want, as long as it’s not the truth.’
The healing wing occupied a squat, whitewashed building near the Association’s main outpost, its entrance marked by the same grey coated staff William had grown used to seeing across the district. A receptionist directed him toward a shared recovery ward on the second floor, and he found Reyes propped up in a narrow bed, leg encased in a stabilizing brace, ribs wrapped tight beneath a hospital issued shirt.
"Belforht." Reyes’s voice was steadier than it had been in the hollow, though still rough around the edges. "Didn’t expect to see you here."
"Wanted to check you were actually still breathing." William pulled a chair closer to the bedside, the small guardian hopping up to curl at his feet. "The healers say how long until you’re back on your leg?"
"Weeks, if I’m lucky. Longer if the bone doesn’t set clean." Reyes’s jaw tightened briefly before he forced it to relax. "Iron Body’s good for a lot of things. Regrowing shattered bone in a hurry isn’t one of them."
Silence settled between them for a moment, heavier than the small talk deserved, and William found himself unsure how to fill it. Seven years of being the least respected member of every party he’d joined hadn’t prepared him for a conversation like this one, gratitude and guilt tangled together in ways he didn’t have practiced words for.
"I should have gotten to you faster," William said finally. "If I’d moved quicker after the fight, if I hadn’t wasted time arguing with the Association about a rescue team—"
"You came back at all." Reyes cut him off, something sharp in his tone that wasn’t quite anger. "Do you understand how rare that is? A support member with every reason to walk away clean, coming back alone for a raid leader who barely gave him the time of day." He shook his head slowly. "Kessa and Bram made the smart choice. You made the choice most people wouldn’t."
"Smart or not, I couldn’t just leave."
"I know." Reyes’s eyes flicked toward the small guardian curled at William’s feet, something unreadable crossing his expression. "And somewhere in the middle of all that, you managed to tame a Guardian Class monster that should have killed both of us twice over. Association’s already saying it’s the story of the season."
William’s stomach tightened. "How much of the city’s heard by now?"
"Enough. Yuen’s kept the details vague, official reports and all that, but you don’t hide something like this. Not in a city built around Tower gossip." Reyes shifted against his pillows, wincing at the movement. "Guild scouts have already been by the ward twice, fishing for information about the tamer who walked out with a boss monster at his heel. I told them I didn’t remember much past the betrayal. Head trauma, conveniently."
"Thank you," William said quietly, meaning it more than the words could carry.
"Don’t thank me yet. It’ll buy you a few days, maybe a week, not longer. Eventually someone’s going to connect enough pieces to come looking directly, and when they do, you’ll want a better plan than head trauma and hallway rumors." Reyes studied him for a long moment. "What are you going to do when they come, Belforht? Guild masters. Noble houses. People with real resources who won’t take luck as an answer."
William glanced down at the small guardian, who lifted its head at the sudden attention, dark eyes blinking up at him with quiet patience.
"I don’t know yet," he admitted. "But I know I’m not signing away my freedom to the first guild that offers a contract. Not after everything it took to get here."
Reyes’s mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile, tired but genuine. "Good answer. Wrong people hear the right answer to that question, and Ashvale’s going to remember your name for reasons that have nothing to do with luck."