Searching For Andromeda 91 Meeting The Guildmaster

Ephraim glanced at Samuel, who was deep in thought. His electric-blue eyes were ridden with emotions so unreadable that even Ephraim thought to himself he was back on being what he was. Unable to deal with children—but then, the difference between then and now is that Samuel wasn't a child anymore. With all the things the two of them had gone through, he couldn't possibly see Sam as a brat who only knows how to banter anymore.

"Who . . . are you?"

Shey Ramgold, the Guild master, peered at two individuals whose faces she had never seen before. She lived in the Republic of Alaris for her whole life, but she had never seen these two. One with a brown hair and cracked spectacle, and a boy with a platinum-blond hair glistening from the sun complementing his crestfallen electric-blue eyes. 

Chatters began to drift to the air. People were whispering amongst themselves about these two survivors. And then that's when Shey noticed a sword being loosely held by the young man with cracked spectacles. A sword that had a golden finial, with inscriptions of the Rimal in its blade. The guild master's heart sped up like never before. Where was Yael? Vashti? Hosea? Arletha? Pelmon?

Ephraim met Shey's eyes the moment he lifted his gaze. She was the age of his mother, Joana. Her pink hair looked natural, unlike the dyed ones back on Earth. Ephraim then noticed how her expression changed from apprehension to pain. The transitions made Ephraim think about the group he had encountered. They had the same air; Ephraim's blue eyes darted towards the weapon on her side. An ax similar to Yael's. 

Samuel noticed this as well. He was looking at the ax dangling onto the side of the woman's hip. With Samuel's high retention rate, he pinned his electric-blue eyes to the ax's blade—and there he noticed how similar the weapon was from the color of its handle to the little dents around a red bandage on its grip.

"My name is Ephraim," Ephraim said. 

"Samuel." Muttered Samuel, his gaze still glued to the ax.

"Congratulations!"

"Congratulations on our dungeon conquerors!"

Claps, throes of approval, and glee enveloped the entire s.p.a.ce. Ephraim wasn't able to lift his gaze as sunlight struck his gla.s.ses; the cloud covering the sun brightly shrouded the remnants of the dungeon—a pit with bags of gold surrounding two young men.

**

The woman who went down to the pit was Shey Ramgold, the Guild master of Red Alaris Guild. She wore deep-brown leather boots, and her pink hair was tied into a close-fitting bun. Her vest was laden with holsters for maps, binoculars, and even daggers. Shey wore beige-colored tights and blouse that hugged the curves of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, emphasizing her hourgla.s.s figure.

She was the age of Joana Hughes; but she wasn't like normal housewives found on Earth. Her scars around the toned muscles in her arms suggest her experience in combat, and her sharp eyes indicate she was a veteran.

After Shey went to the pit, she asked to meet Ephraim and Samuel to the Red Alaris Guild. And who were they to refuse? After all, they were complete strangers to this world. This Shey looked like she knew who Yael and the others, considering how she reacted earlier. And so, without much reluctance, Samuel and Ephraim went with the guild master the moment she invited them.

The Red Alaris Guild is one of the leading federations in Alaris, alongside Blue, Yellow, and Green Alaris Guild. The members helped Ephraim and Samuel retrieve the treasure they have acquired from the dungeon, who had, as said by Shey on the way to the guild, stood for a millennium unconquered.

Ephraim and Samuel were the stars of the show. They were praised continuously, flowers were laid onto their paths and then were offered fruits and various goods by the people on the stalls as they pa.s.sed the thoroughfare. Windows from upper floors of brick houses opened to reveal children and adults alike peering to Ephraim and Sam, or particularly, the s.h.i.+mmering amount of treasure they have acquired.

Congratulatory noises from strangers to two strangers were deemed as something plausible, even to the world Ephraim and Sam were accustomed to. They reached the guild but the attention never wavered. Even members of the guild were looking at them with astonished looks. Ephraim, who was usually composed, shrunken and lowered his gaze to avert the inevitable gazes they were receiving. He gingerly glanced at Samuel, who was looking straight ahead, still deep in thought.

Ever since Samuel entered the unhitched doors, he had that blank look on his face. Ephraim wondered what happened inside Nar's chambers which made Samuel like that. 

'I can't blame him, after all, that group died . . .' Ephraim shook his head to dismiss his thoughts.

"My name is Shey Ramgold, and I am the Red Alaris Guild's guild master." The woman said. "Please have a seat, conqueror."

Ephraim sat onto the red sofa in the middle of the guild master's office. Her desk still had papers scattered atop and smudged ink and a fallen seal suggests that she had hurried to go, leaving her work unfinished.

"You . . . that sword," the woman said after a brief silence. "That is the manifestation of Wahid's tome of knowledge, isn't it?"

Ephraim glanced at the sword in his side. It was the sword that the guardian lent him. 

"No, it's . . . something different," the sword was the one that had Vashti's blood onto it. It was the sword Ephraim used to fight. It was the sword that Vashti had killed Pelmon with. Ephraim couldn't quite remember how he was able to have this sword again—the moment they finally arrived at 'Alaris,' the sword was already in his hand. 

And he refused to part with it.

"You people perhaps went to the dungeon just a little later or sooner than Yael—the members of my guild." Shey's voice was strained. "Did you, Conqueror and his companion, Samuel . . . perhaps see them? Meet them?"

Ephraim thinned his lips.

Meeting the guild master meant they had to speak—they had to articulate what happened; not because they were obligated to do so, but it was just what was the right thing to do. 

Ephraim opened his mouth, only to close it again as he felt the lump in his throat. Really. How can he utter a word, to explain that the group died because of them to the one who seemed to be the person who cared the most to the group—enough to rush to their side and supposed to celebrate their triumphant return?

"I—"

"They fought bravely." Ephraim turned to Samuel, who was the one first to speak. "Yael fought bravely. Hosea guarded everyone else with an impeccable barrier. Pelmon brandished his sword to the enemy with both skill and tact. Arletha was cunning and swift with her shots. And Vashti,"—Samuel's finger trembled as he clutched the cloth of his pants, and with quivering lips, he smiled.

"She . . ." Samuel's voice cracked. "She became the light to guide all of us."

"Sam . . ."

The guild master's eyes quavered, her gaze pinned to Samuel, whose electric-blue eyes were s.h.i.+ning from his unshed tears. This was enough for her—enough for Shey to understand what happened.

"I see . . ." She whispered, her shoulders slumping gradually as she was. .h.i.t with a realization - a realization that led her to conclude one thing.

"They were brave . . ." Shey thoughtfully muttered with a small, sad smile. "They fought bravely . . . indeed."

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