The days that followed the sealing of the first rift were far from restful.

Kael and his friends had barely recovered when the next task emerged: the devices that sealed the rifts required a continuous supply of living mana cores. Passive stones or harvested remnants would not do. Without this fuel, the seals would eventually falter.

So they hunted.

Kael led the group beyond the safety of the forest’s edge and into regions tainted by rift energy. Tovan and Nyra tracked beast movements. Rek moved with swift precision, baiting threats into ambushes. Ira struck from above, and Lysa’s barriers protected their flanks. Selene, ever fierce, wielded her magma spear like a blazing banner, keeping the team focused and safe.

And Kael, fused now in harmony with Luman, held nothing back.

Among their early victories was a wolf-like rift beast with crystalized veins of mana pulsing across its body. Its core pulsed with volatile energy. Not every hunt was so smooth. Some left them wounded. One nearly took Rek’s leg. But they endured.

Over the following moons, they placed stabilization devices in a ring around the outskirts of the village. Each one required careful calibration and a live core to activate. As the seals formed, Kael began mapping potential future rift sites.

The villagers watched all of this with cautious awe.

At first, they feared the children—wielders of magic, hunters of horrors. But Selene approached them, not with fire, but with words. She explained their purpose, their past, and their vision. Kael showed the diagrams. Ira spoke of survival. Her voice wavered only once as she looked at the crowd with wide, steady eyes and said, "I just don’t want anyone else to lose their home like I almost did."

Then, something shifted. Word of the rift sealing spread beyond the valley. One morning, several villagers from nearby settlements arrived—tired, desperate, carrying grim tales—villages burned overnight by unseen horrors, crops withering beneath flickering, unnatural skies. They begged the village head for help, not just protection, but guidance.

It was this plea that reframed the conversation. The Guild they were building—once formed by desperate children in a cave—had now matured into something recognized by society. This was no longer a lone effort but a model others could follow. More guilds might rise, more villages might organize.

Slowly, the fear gave way to curiosity. Villagers began asking questions, tentative at first, then more confidently. Elders nodded in thoughtful silence, while younger villagers whispered excitedly. Gradually, their caution turned to cautious optimism, and finally, to genuine respect.

It was Tovan who proposed it first: "Let’s not just fight. Let’s build."

So Kael proposed a plan. Not to stay hidden in caves and woods, but to raise something new—an order, a haven, a Guild.

The villagers offered land near the river that split the valley. A gruff elder spoke first: "You’ve faced what we feared in silence. You’ve earned this land, and our help." Others nodded. A young woman stepped forward, hands calloused from farmwork. "If this Guild can keep even one child from vanishing like my brother... I’ll build its walls myself."

They helped carry wood, stone, and scrap, building simple yet sturdy structures with broad roofs and open spaces meant to welcome rather than ward away. The older folk shared building techniques passed down through generations. Youths ran errands, fetched tools, and began carving symbols into beams—some traditional, others new, forming a blend of magic and memory.

The smith reforged old tools. The weavers made new banners. Children ran between frames of future halls, imagining what it would become. Some spoke of becoming Guild members one day. Others played make-believe, battling invisible rift beasts with sticks and laughter.

The First Adventure Guild was born—not as a fortress, but as a promise.

As the sun set on the seventh day, Kael stood with Selene on a newly built platform. Behind them stood a skeletal hall of beams and hopes. Before them stood the people—villagers, fighters, children, and survivors.

"This is just the start," Kael said, his voice steady. "There will be more rifts. More beasts. More danger. But there will also be us. This Guild is not just for fighting. It's for learning. For helping. For protecting those who cannot protect themselves. But we must remain vigilant—new threats will emerge, and not all of them from outside."

Selene raised her spear in silent agreement.

Luman sat on Kael’s shoulder, tail flicking. For once, he didn’t chatter.

From the shadows, Aries watched, unmoving, but present.

As night fell, the villagers lit lanterns and small fires. Food was shared—simple stews, baked roots, and even a rare sweet cake. Someone brought out a flute. Another drummed on empty barrels. Lysa clapped along while Rek awkwardly tried dancing, prompting laughter. Even the older villagers smiled, their wariness giving way to something warmer.

It wasn’t a feast. But it was something like joy.

The wind carried the scent of smoke and soil.

And somewhere deep below, the cave remained untouched—quiet, forgotten for now.

Tonight was for the living.

For the bonds being forged.

For the world being rebuilt.