Golden daylight washed over Valhalla, coating the city in a warm, honey-colored glow as Star and her companions stepped out of the guild headquarters. Merchants shouted their prices, children ran along the streets, and the city hummed with life—but the weight of their mission pressed heavily on all of them. Far beyond the jagged peaks on the horizon stood the Tower of a Thousand Mirrors—silent, ancient, and waiting.

Star rested her hand lightly on her sword as she walked, her expression calm but focused. The tower tugged at her mind like a distant echo she couldn’t ignore. Klara, walking just behind her, finally spoke.

“We need to be ready,” she said, adjusting the strap of her catalyst pouch. “Food, gear, transport… this isn’t a journey we can take lightly.”

“I’ll handle the food,” Seth said brightly, his golden retriever ears lifting. “No adventure’s complete without snacks!”

Erik scoffed and crossed his arms, his tail flicking. “You mean junk. Don’t waste our money.”

“Snacks are morale boosters,” Seth said with a grin. “You’ll thank me.”

Star let out a soft chuckle. “Erik, go with Seth. Make sure he gets what we actually need. Klara and I will secure transport. Siegfried, Friedrich—can you take care of sharpening the weapons?”

“Of course,” Siegfried replied, steady as always. He adjusted the straps of his sword and shield, a faint smile brushing his lips. “We’ll make sure everything’s ready.”

“Good,” Klara said firmly. “Meet back at the inn before nightfall. We leave at dawn.”

The marketplace buzzed with color, sound, and the smell of grilled meats, fresh bread, and spices. Seth wove through the stalls with unrestrained excitement, stopping at anything that sparkled or smelled good.

“These dried berries are perfect!” he said, holding up a small pouch. “Sweet, energizing, delicious.”

Behind him, Erik studied bundles of jerky and hard cheese with a more practical eye. “We’re not here for fun. We need rations that last—things that won’t spoil.”

“You’re no fun,” Seth huffed. “Snacks keep morale high.”

“Morale won’t matter if we’re hungry,” Erik muttered, though a tiny smirk betrayed him.

Across the city, Star and Klara reached the caravan yard, where rows of wagons and pack animals waited for hire. The air smelled of hay and leather, and horses snorted softly as workers moved about. An older caravan master with silver hair approached, shadowed by the brim of his wide hat.

“Looking for transport?” he asked, voice rough but friendly.

“We need something sturdy,” Star said. “A wagon that can handle rough ground and carry six people plus supplies.”

The man stroked his beard and motioned for them to follow. He led them to a solid wagon reinforced with iron bands. Two stocky draft beasts—scaled and gray like storm clouds—stood at the front.

“This one’s reliable,” he said. “Not the fastest, but she won’t fail you.”

Klara inspected the wheels and frame with a practiced eye. “This will work. How much?”

“Five hundred Solaris.”

Star didn’t hesitate. She handed over the coins. “Have it ready by morning.”

Meanwhile, the forge rang with heat and sound as Siegfried worked carefully on their weapons. Sparks flew with every strike of his hammer. He inspected each blade with the care of someone who understood that lives depended on every edge.

The blacksmith, arms streaked with soot, paused to watch. “You’ve got a good hand,” he said with a nod. “Your team’s lucky.”

Siegfried gave a quiet smile. “They’re my family. I’ll do anything to keep them safe.”

As the sun dipped below the rooftops, painting the sky in gold and red, the group gathered at the inn again. Seth unpacked the provisions with a triumphant grin—though Erik ensured most of it was actually useful. Klara reported that the wagon was secured, and Siegfried laid their sharpened weapons on the table, each blade shining in the dim light.

Star stood at the head of the table, looking at each of them. “We’re ready,” she said, voice steady. “Tomorrow, we head for the tower.”

A quiet fell over the group. It wasn’t fear—just the weight of the unknown. They had faced danger before, and they would face whatever awaited them next.

As they retired for the night, each carried their own thoughts. Beyond Valhalla’s walls, the Tower of a Thousand Mirrors loomed in silence—its mysteries whispering in the dark.