Everything around her looked so beautiful and picturesque. Outside the tavern, two groups sat calmly at the tables, speaking in low voices. From inside came music and laughter... The atmosphere was so relaxed and pleasant.

She opened the door and stepped into The Drunken Goblet.

Windstadt was known for its wine, its music, and its revelry... and tonight she would experience it firsthand.

The tavern was full of warmth and life, as if it were the place where every story in the city came to rest at the end of the day.

The wooden floor creaked softly beneath the steps of the patrons, while low tables were scattered across the room, chairs pulled out unevenly around them. Candles and small lanterns lit the tables with a warm orange glow that made the shadows dance along the walls. The room smelled of wood, hot food, and spices, while voices, laughter, and the clink of glasses created a pleasant noise, almost comforting.

The walls were filled with old objects: shields, musical instruments, wooden signs, and keepsakes left behind by travelers. Behind the long counter, large barrels and shelves full of bottles made it clear that wine and ale were never in short supply here.

She searched the room for the group waiting for her. In the small open loft, she spotted Alina and Ed talking quietly together. Alfry looked down and, the moment she saw Lyra, waved for her to come upstairs.

Lyra smiled and headed for the stairs.

There, a few steps farther away, she recognized a familiar figure from the corner of her eye. At the back, seated at a corner table, was Valir with several other knights. They were talking and laughing loudly.

For a moment, their eyes met.

He gave her a formal smile and greeted her with a nod. She returned the gesture before turning and heading upstairs.

She sat at the table with the group waiting for her, ordered a glass of wine and something to eat, and joined the conversation with the three of them. There were fewer tables on the loft level, and the space was quieter, allowing for easy conversation.

“I heard you took over the infirmary at the Headquarters,” Alfry said cheerfully.

“Hm?” Lyra paused briefly. “Yes! News travels fast around here, doesn’t it?” she replied with a smile.

“I wouldn’t be much of an informant for the Windward Guild if I didn’t hear news quickly... But... Alina told me that a little while ago,” she said, laughing.

“Thank you very much for the clothes the other day. I’ll return them soon. They needed to be cleaned,” Lyra told her, but Alfry shook her head.

“There’s no need... I... don’t need them... They belonged to my sister...” she said.

The other two, who had been talking cheerfully among themselves, cast Alfry a sideways glance when she mentioned her sister.

It was a look Lyra knew very well.

She had seen it many times at the hospital when she had delivered bad news to relatives. The people nearby, if they overheard, always had the same reaction.

A careful look. Searching. A little sad...

Something had happened.

And it had not been good.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Alina began talking about work. About her patients, about the rounds she had made that day... Ed watched her closely and, now and then, threw in a comment just to tease her.

The cheerful atmosphere returned to the table, and they continued eating and drinking. The wine was fragrant and sweet. A dangerous combination if you were not careful.

Lyra’s cheeks had grown warm, and the glow of the lights had taken on that soft, pleasant haze. She was not drunk yet, but she needed a little air to clear her head.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she said, rising carefully.

When she opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony, the coolness of the night struck her pleasantly. She rested her elbows on the railing and slowly let out a breath.

Below the balcony was a small courtyard where the tavern kept its wine barrels and other crates. The voices from inside reached her in muffled waves, mixed with laughter, music, and the hum of an evening moving along peacefully.

“Hello, recruit.”

Valir’s voice behind her startled her, making her shoulders tense. She turned her head slightly.

He stood leaning casually against the doorframe, one shoulder taking his weight, his arms folded low across his chest. The light from inside fell across him at an angle, leaving half his face in warm glow and the other half in shadow.

Lyra smiled faintly.

“Sir.”

“Have you remembered anything?” he asked calmly.

“No. Not yet,” she replied, turning her gaze back toward the city.

“Well?” he asked. “How does it seem?”

“What do you mean?”

“The infirmary. The city. All of it.”

His deep voice made her turn toward him and look at him properly for the first time. It felt so strange to be standing this close, to have him asking her these questions.

His blue eyes seemed even more intense in the night light. Without thinking, the word slipped from her lips.

“Beautiful.”

Her voice carried that soft, almost absentminded warmth wine left behind when you had not drunk enough to truly lose your balance, but enough to make the world feel a little gentler around you.

Valir looked at her for a moment without speaking. Then he moved to the railing as well, leaving a small, careful distance between them.

“Your first day in the infirmary?” he asked.

“Quiet. Thankfully.” She paused briefly, keeping her voice steady. “I organized the room with Alina. It’s... good to have something specific to do.”

Valir nodded slowly, as if taking note of her answer without pressing her further.

“If you stay, there may come a time when you are needed beyond the infirmary.”

Lyra turned slightly toward him.

“What do you mean?”

His gaze drifted for a moment toward the city walls, toward the dark spaces beyond the lantern light.

“If you remain at the Headquarters, sooner or later, you will have to accompany a mission. Perhaps not far at first. But far enough that knowing only how to bind wounds behind a counter will not be enough.”

Lyra looked at him without answering immediately. His tone was not harsh. It was not even stern. It was simply the tone of someone who had already seen the next difficulty before it appeared.

“All right,” she said at last.

The word came out so quickly that Valir turned and studied her more carefully.

“All right?”

Lyra lifted her shoulders slightly.

“If it becomes necessary, I’ll do it.”

The corner of his mouth shifted almost imperceptibly, not quite into a smile. More as if her certainty had amused him.

“You will need at least the basics with a sword if you are to be useful and avoid falling apart the moment things become difficult.”

Lyra let out a small breath through her nose.

“That... won’t be a problem.”

She regretted it almost the moment she said it.

Valir turned slowly toward her. Now he was looking at her with visible surprise.

“No?”

Lyra straightened slightly.

“I... learned a few things in the past,” she said, more carefully this time. “It has been a while, of course.”

She thought back to her college years. She had taken fencing at one of the clubs more for fun than out of any serious interest. As a medical student, she had never had much time, but it was something she enjoyed. Older students, after all, used to say that as a sport it was useful because it built discipline and endurance. Things she would need later as a doctor.

So she had held a sword before.

She knew the basic stance.

Or at least, she liked to think she did.

His eyes remained on her for another moment. As if he were weighing not only what she had said, but the way she had said it.

“Then you will need practice.”

The statement settled calmly between them, as if it had already been decided. Lyra blinked.

“Practice?”

“Starting tomorrow.”

He said it while looking ahead again, toward the walls, as if there were nothing strange about it.

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment. Inside her, a small wave of anxiety rose first. Immediately after came something else, quicker, brighter.

Excitement.

“Starting tomorrow,” she repeated.

Valir turned back toward her. His gaze passed over her face for a moment, as if he had caught both the hesitation and the spark that came right after.

And for a moment, they both fell silent, leaning against the same balcony. It was not comfortable, exactly, but neither was it awkward. There was only that strange feeling of two people who did not yet know what to do with each other’s presence.

The night air moved between them and lifted a loose strand of Lyra’s hair. She straightened away from the railing.

“I should probably go back inside,” she said.

Valir nodded.

“Don’t drink any more. Tomorrow, it won’t do you any favors.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Grand Master.” Lyra looked at him for a moment, then smiled faintly.

Then she stepped back through the tavern door, leaving the balcony and the night behind her, with a small, restless anticipation already beginning to take root inside her.

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Thank you for reading "Rookie of the Wind".