This is a legally-binding Adventuring Party Permit. All members of the party are to adhere to the following guidelines:
1. The party shall remain assembled for a period of no less than six (6) moon cycles.
2. Permission has been granted for members of the party to take on any quests received legally from the Adventurer's Guild, insofar as those quests do not violate the laws of whatever province they may be in.
3. No party member shall take a quest upon themselves alone.
4. There shall be no duels issued between members of the party.
5. As licensed adventurers, the party may request sanctuary in any Adventurer's Guild-affiliated inn for a fair and reasonable price.
6. Damages incurred to any persons or property during any quests will be paid out of the party's reward money.
7. Any spoils must be split fairly: 50% to the party leader and 50% to the other members.
"How is that any fair?" Mamoru crosses his arms and frowns. "Are you sure you didn't have anything to do with writing this?"
"I'm not so greedy—" I argue. He's not worth the breath it takes. "Keep going, Izumi."
Her eyes scan the contract and she reads, "The violation of any term of this permit will result in the immediate issuance of a warrant for the arrest of the offending party member or members, and they will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. As it is written, so it shall be obeyed by the undersigned."
"And then it's our signatures," she finishes, rolling the scroll up and tying its ribbon back on.
"You know, I was expecting a lot worse. For demons, they're pretty reasonable," I say.
"How is forced adventuring reasonable?" Mamoru asks.
"You two wanted to do it anyway. At least now we'll be doing it legally."
I take a sip of hot chocolate. It’s very rich and very thick.
Izumi, free from her reading duties, has gravitated back to the quest board. There's no trace of breakfast left on her plate. Mamoru is eating more slowly. I can't tell if he's being picky or savoring the food of this new world.
"It's still here!" Izumi cheers, pulling a familiar sheet of parchment from the wall and taking it back to our table with her.
"The noble's missing daughter?" Mamoru finally begins to show interest in something, after all.
"Lilah of House Windwood, age sixteen. Red hair, green eyes. Last seen—"
"I know that name," I interrupt. "Not Windwood, but Lilah. She's one of the missing girls."
Just one more after her and we'll have found everyone. I feel a fire ignite within me.
"It's probably a common name, Hiyori."
"What if it isn't? What if she's just like us?" I slam my hands down, jostling my mug and splashing tea on the table. "A foreigner named Lilah Murphy went missing, too."
Now I'm starting to get the appeal of questing. It's like pulling a case file and then hitting the pavement for some good, old-fashioned detective work.
"Last seen in the capital city," Izumi continues over my outburst. "Consult with Lord Windwood for more information."
"Then what are we waiting for?" I ask.
"Directions to Windwood Manor," Mamoru says. "Obviously."
As it turns out, adventurers are a friendly bunch when they’re not being paid to testify against you, and an eavesdropper is willing to part with that information for a small fee. I take a one last large sip of my hot chocolate, scalding my mouth as I finish it off too quickly.
We head outside, ready to begin our quest.
***
“No,” Mamoru says suddenly. “Before we go to Windwood’s, we’re going to the castle.”
He takes off at a brisk pace, leaving us to speed up to avoid activating his tether. The magical reprimand is unpleasant for all of us, so it's honestly better to indulge his whim.
“I thought you didn’t want to go back.”
"There’s a lot of things I don’t want to do." Mamoru frowns. "But I'm the Chosen Hero, damn it."
“And you lost to the Demon Lord," Izumi supplies helpfully.
"I didn't lose. We agreed to fight another day."
"Lost."
"At least I didn't have a tea party with him."
As we navigate the even, grid-like streets of the upper class districts, I find myself wondering what kind of life Mamoru had before his own journey to this world. We're not good friends, but as party members, I feel like we should learn a little more about everyone's real selves.
"This is my real self," he says when I give voice to the idea. "I was born for this."
"Sorry, what?"
"Literally. There's a prophecy about the Demon Lord. He absolutely will be defeated by someone from our Earth."
"A prophecy?! Why didn't he mention that?" Izumi demands.
"Maybe he doesn't know about it?" I suggest.
"That's impossible! If you're the subject of a prophecy, you know about it. You know about it immediately." Izumi stops and grips Mamoru by the shoulders. "You're absolutely sure it's about this Demon Lord? Not the old one?"
"Positive." Mamoru pauses, thinking. "When the Demon Lord's successor ascends to the throne, he shall be unrivaled by this world's heroes. No summon is futile. His mantle will pass to the lawful."
"The lawful?" I may not have been following much of this prophecy stuff, but I know the word for my people when I hear it.
"Hiyori, this is no time to play cops. We have an honest-to-god prophecy here!" Izumi says.
"What's so special about a prophecy?"
"They're only one of the coolest parts of the genre." Izumi sighs. "You're hopeless."
I pout and listen quietly.
"Is there more to it? It sounds a little short for a prophecy."
"Yeah. They'll have a copy at the castle."
"Stop sulking, Hiyorin," Izumi says.
"I am not sulking," I lie.
We proceed quietly and quickly.
"Yo!" Mamoru waves to the guards. "I'm looking for an audience with the King."
"Who are you to be demanding such a thing?" The first guard puts a hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Mamoru Amamiya. He'll recognize me."
"A foreigner?" another guard wonders aloud. "You're not dressed like the merchants from Canephora."
So help me, I had been hoping to never hear the name of that kingdom again.
"I'm from somewhere much farther away."
"Across the ocean?"
"Farther."
"Now you're just pullin' my leg, kid. Why not be honest?"
Mamoru stands up straighter and unbuckles the sword from around his waist. He... offers it to the guards?
"As you can see from the crest on the scabbard, I am here at the behest of the King. I am the hero who was summoned--"
"Good lord, boy, why did you not begin with that?" The guard gestures for him to take the sword back. "Tell me, this time without any word games. If you are back... does that mean the Demon Lord is felled?"
"I'd prefer to report directly to the King," Mamoru answers. "And I'd like to bring my party along, too."
"You chose your traveling companions well," another guard says with a knowing wink.
"I didn't choose anything," Mamoru shoots back, showing a fraction of his normal personality.
"Even better, for such lovely girls to choose you."
Is that how it is? I'm going to punch—
"No matter who did the choosing," the first guard says amiably. "Let's escort you all inside. You'll understand if we still take precautions."
"Of course."
Mamoru seems to be in a really good mood for once. I guess having people treat you like a hero is enough to bring out the best in someone. I've certainly imagined my share of heroic award ceremonies, and I can guarantee my face always splits into the same grin that he's got now.
We travel up the road, passing by horse-drawn carriages and people milling about. They don’t pay us any mind. Even being escorted by guards, we look pretty unremarkable. Just ordinary adventurers. That does feel a bit cool.
The castle’s architecture is similar to the one owned by the Demon Lord, enough to give a coherent sense of the region’s style. It’s all cool stone and hanging banners as far as the eye can see.
“Halt.”
Obeying, we come to a stop just shy of the door.
“I bring the Chosen Hero,” our guard tells his compatriot, puffing up his chest a little.
The stiff man at the door speaks a few words into a mirror. I can’t make out the words being spoken on the other side, but he frowns, so I don’t imagine it’s anything positive.
"His Majesty will not be seeing the boy.”
“I’m sorry?” Mamoru asks, stepping forward. “I’m his chosen—”
“Until you come back with the Demon Lord’s head, you are no hero.”
“What?”
“News of your failure has reached His Majesty. Consider this a warning: if you cannot complete your task, he will be summoning someone anew. You are not to set foot in the castle, nor receive a hero’s welcome, until you prove yourself worthy of it.”
Mamoru’s face turns red. He cycles through emotions: disappointment, humiliation, anger. He turns around and begins walking away. Our tether pulls tight, and we’re forced to take off after him. It probably stings worse that nobody tries to follow.
