They stepped inside the guild hall and looked around. The place was quieter than Ludger expected. Not abandoned.
Just mostly empty in that particular way only working guilds managed, where the absence of noise didn’t mean inactivity, only that most of the real work was happening somewhere else. A handful of kids were moving boxes from one side of the hall to the other, struggling just enough to make it obvious they were still new to it. Probably recent recruits or younger members being put to use before anyone trusted them with something more important. Their movements were clumsy, but not lazy, and every now and then one of them glanced toward Ludger and Arslan before quickly looking away again.
The hall itself matched the outside. Old. Used. Sturdy.
Long wooden beams ran across the ceiling, darkened by time and smoke, while the stone floor had that familiar polished roughness that only came from decades of boots grinding the same paths into it. The walls held weapon racks, old shields, and a few faded banners that had clearly survived long enough to become part of the building rather than decoration. Nothing there was flashy. Everything looked like it had earned its place.
At the far end of the hall, a raised balcony overlooked the main floor.
An attendant sat there behind a broad desk, working through a stack of papers with the focused expression of someone trying to get through more tasks than one person reasonably should. She only looked up when the light shifted over the page in front of her and she noticed two shadows falling across the desk.
The girl seemed a little older than Ludger.
Her hair was chestnut brown, a little wavy rather than properly straight, and it framed a face that might have looked softer if not for the glasses resting on her nose and the tired seriousness in her eyes. The whole thing gave her the air of a studious girl who had spent more time with papers and duties than with anything especially fun.
She raised her head toward Arslan first. Then froze. Then facepalmed. Not lightly either. The movement carried too much feeling to be random.
After that, Arslan slowly turned his head to glance at Ludger, clearly waiting to see some kind of reaction. Ludger’s expression, of course, stayed the same as ever.
Flat. Unreadable.
He stepped forward slightly and said, “We are representatives of the Lionsguard. We came to speak with Guildmaster Maris.”
The girl blinked. Then her eyes widened as she looked directly at Ludger. Properly looked at him this time. Any lingering professionalism cracked immediately.
She stood up so quickly the chair scraped faintly behind her, her gaze still fixed on him with a mix of excitement and disbelief.
“Wait,” she said, staring. “Are you the infamous Ludger?”
The amount of amazement packed into that sentence would have been excessive coming from most adults. Coming from someone only slightly older than him, it was almost worse. Ludger raised one eyebrow in response. That was enough to make Arslan look like he was trying very hard not to laugh. Before the moment could stretch too long, the girl hurried on.
“My mother is in the labyrinth right now,” she said, still staring at Ludger a second longer than strictly necessary. “But she should be returning soon.”
That made Ludger’s eyes narrow just slightly. So this was Maris’ daughter. That explained the facepalm. And the enthusiasm. And, unfortunately, part of his father’s earlier warning.
The girl kept staring at Ludger with bright, barely contained excitement before words finally started spilling out of her properly.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said. “A lot.”
Ludger waited. She straightened a little, as if trying to recover some dignity and failing because her enthusiasm was moving faster than the rest of her.
“The young brawler who built a guild from scratch with his father,” she said, “and then kept growing it until it started rivaling the big ones.” Her eyes were still fixed on him behind her glasses, wide with a kind of honest admiration that would have sounded exaggerated coming from most people. “That’s… seriously inspirational.”
Arslan made a small sound under his breath that might have been amusement. Ludger ignored him.
The girl, meanwhile, seemed to realize a second too late that she had skipped something important. Her expression shifted, and she quickly placed a hand against her chest as if trying to reset the conversation before she embarrassed herself further.
“Right. Sorry. I haven’t even introduced myself.”
She took a small breath, then said more cleanly, “I’m Elira.”
The name settled easily into place. Maris’ daughter. Of course. Elira adjusted her glasses lightly, still trying and failing to hide how pleased she was by the meeting.
“It’s an honor to meet you,” she said. Then, after only a tiny pause, she added with complete sincerity, “I’m a huge fan of yours.”
That one made Arslan look away toward the side, very likely because his face was starting to betray too much amusement. Ludger’s expression remained unchanged. Elira either didn’t notice or simply didn’t care.
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“And,” she continued, smiling now in a much more open way, “I’ll be looking forward to our cooperation.”
That got Ludger’s attention more than the praise had. Not because the words themselves were surprising. But because she said them naturally. Like the idea of their guilds working together already felt obvious to her.
Interesting. Ludger studied her for a moment before answering.
“We’re here to discuss that.”
Elira nodded quickly. “I know. Mother mentioned enough for me to understand the basics.” Her eyes flicked briefly toward Arslan, then back to Ludger with just a trace of awkwardness. “Well. Enough of the basics, anyway.”
Arslan sighed. Ludger chose not to comment on that. Elira cleared her throat, clearly forcing herself back toward a more professional posture even though the excitement was still visible in the way she held herself.
“In any case,” she said, “you’re welcome here while you wait. If mother is still in the labyrinth, it shouldn’t be too long before she returns.”
Then, because apparently she wasn’t done being honest, she added, “Still… meeting you is a lot more surprising than I expected.”
Ludger raised his brow again. Elira smiled sheepishly, but there was no embarrassment strong enough to hide the admiration in her expression. For a moment, the quiet old guild hall felt a little less empty.
Ludger gave a small nod, then moved with Arslan toward one of the empty tables near the side of the hall. The wood there was old but solid, marked by years of meals, meetings, maps, and arguments. It fit the guild well. Nothing fancy. Just dependable.
Arslan sat first, looking entirely too relaxed for a man who was technically waiting to face the consequences of his past. Ludger took the seat across from him, his gaze drifting once toward the balcony.
There was still a ridiculous amount of paper up there.
Ledgers, forms, reports, requests, probably inventory records and patrol notes too. More than enough work to keep someone occupied for the rest of the afternoon.
Apparently, Elira did not care.
Because only a short while later, she came down from the balcony and joined them without hesitation, carrying none of those papers with her. Whatever professional restraint she had tried to maintain earlier was clearly losing to her curiosity at a very steady rate.
She sat with them like that was the most natural thing in the world. Arslan noticed. The corner of his mouth twitched faintly, but he was wise enough not to say anything.
Elira leaned forward slightly, the excitement in her expression returning now that she no longer had to pretend she was only being formal.
“So,” she said, looking straight at Ludger, “is it true?”
Ludger looked at her. “What exactly?”
Her eyes brightened.
“The rumor that you fought a giant sea beast,” she said, “and then spent weeks inside its stomach fighting your way out to free yourself.”
Arslan turned his face slightly to the side. Ludger could already tell his father was trying not to laugh.
“That,” Ludger said flatly, “is an exaggeration.”
Elira immediately asked, “Which parts?”
Ludger stared at her for half a second. Then he answered with the same calm tone as always.
“I fought a giant sea beast,” he said. “But I had the support of fifty other people.”
Elira blinked. Then frowned slightly, as if trying to reorganize the story in her head now that reality had refused to be as absurd as rumor.
“So you weren’t alone?”
“No.”
“And you weren’t trapped inside it for weeks?”
“No.”
Elira paused.
Then she tilted her head. “How long?”
Ludger’s expression stayed flat. “Not weeks.”
That got a quiet snort out of Arslan. Elira looked between the two of them and seemed to realize she was being answered in the most technically honest and least satisfying way possible.
“You really don’t make stories sound impressive on purpose, do you?” she asked.
“There’s no point in lying to make them bigger.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“It usually is.”
Arslan chuckled under his breath now, no longer bothering to hide it.
Elira looked mildly offended on behalf of all dramatic storytelling. “Still, fighting a giant sea beast with fifty people is already impressive.”
“It was troublesome,” Ludger said.
“That is not the same thing.”
“To me, it is.”
Elira stared at him for a second, then laughed softly despite herself. That laugh made the old hall feel a little warmer. Not louder. Just less stiff. She pushed a strand of chestnut hair back near her ear and looked at him again with the same bright curiosity.
“So most of the rumors are exaggerated?”
“Many of them,” Ludger said.
Arslan finally joined in. “That depends on which rumor.”
Ludger looked at him.
Arslan shrugged. “I’m just saying, some of them might actually be underselling things.”
Elira’s eyes widened again at that, and she turned back to Ludger with renewed interest, as if she had just been handed permission to keep asking questions. Which, judging by the look in her face, she fully intended to do.
Arslan watched the exchange from the side while Elira kept talking to Ludger with bright, eager energy. It was honestly a little surreal.
Not because Ludger was answering poorly. He wasn’t. He was being exactly what he usually was, calm, flat, precise, and just barely cooperative enough to keep the conversation moving. But Elira clearly didn’t mind that at all. If anything, she seemed even more interested because of it, leaning in slightly whenever he answered, asking follow-up questions with the kind of open curiosity only someone genuinely excited could manage without sounding fake.
And Ludger…
Arslan found himself looking at his son like he was some kind of evolved creature. Because Elira was, unfortunately, very well equipped. Just like her mother. That resemblance was almost insane.
It wasn’t only in the face, though that was there too in certain angles and expressions. It was the general shape of her presence. The same kind of woman who would make a room noticeably more difficult for foolish men to behave properly in. Maris had been like that too, and age had apparently decided to be generous enough to repeat the problem through blood.
Arslan, for his part, was taking great care not to look where experience told him not to look.
Great care. Heroic care, even. He was a married man now, and she was a young woman. He didn’t have many, but Arslan had morals.
Still, he had eyes. He could tell that much without trying. The resemblance really was uncanny. And yet Ludger sat there across from Elira, looking at her completely normally.
Straight at her eyes. Calm. Untense.