Danmachi: Exception

Sunset painted Orario in shades of amber and gold. Cyrus watched the light play across worn cobblestones as Syr emerged from the tavern's back door, trading her work dress for a simple blue outfit.

"Ready for your tour?" She twirled once, dress catching the fading light. "Though I should warn you - my version of Orario might be different from what you'd get from the Guild."

"I'm counting on it."

Her smile widened. "Good answer."

They walked in comfortable silence, Syr leading them away from the main streets. The evening crowds thinned as they ventured into narrower paths between buildings.

"Most visitors stick to the main roads," Syr said. "They miss all the interesting parts."

"Like what?"

"Like this." She pulled him into a tiny square hidden between towers. A weathered fountain burbled in the center, surrounded by potted plants. "Local secret. Best place to hear gossip in the morning."

"You collect secrets?"

"Information is valuable." She traced the fountain's edge. "Especially in Orario."

They continued on, Syr pointing out details tourists never saw. The baker who sold day-old bread at half price. The cat who knew every roof-path in the district. The wall where children kept score of their games in chalk.

"Excuse me! Sir!"

Cyrus turned. A familiar elf hurried toward them, nearly tripping over her own feet. Her blonde hair caught the last rays of sunlight.

"I thought it was you!" Tessia's cheeks flushed. "I wanted to thank you properly, for before..."

"No need." 

"But there is!" She fumbled with something wrapped in cloth. "I made these, as thanks. They're potions."

She thrust the package at him. Three vials of blue liquid nestled in soft fabric.

"Lord Miach helped me perfect the formula," she added quickly. "They're much better than my usual work."

"Thank you." He accepted the gift carefully. "Though you didn't have to."

"I wanted to." Her eyes dropped. "And maybe... if you ever need more potions..."

"I'll know where to find you."

Her smile lit up her entire face. "Yes! I mean... thank you. Again. I should go - evening shift at the shop."

She hurried off, only stumbling once. Syr watched her go with raised eyebrows.

"Friend of yours?"

"Something like that."

"Mm-hmm." Her knowing smile returned. "Seems like you make interesting friends quickly."

They resumed walking. The streets grew narrower, buildings leaning closer together. Signs became harder to read, addresses more confusing.

"Welcome to Daedalus Street," Syr said. "Most people avoid it. They say it's impossible to navigate."

"Is it?"

"Only if you don't know the secrets." She took his hand. "Stay close. It's easy to get lost here."

The street twisted like a snake, branching randomly. Buildings seemed to shift positions when he looked away. Nothing followed normal patterns.

"Who designed this place?"

"A madman named Daedalus." Syr guided him around a corner that shouldn't exist. "He wanted to create a maze that would protect the poor from monsters. Some say he succeeded too well."

They passed a group of children playing some complicated game with strings and stones. The kids waved to Syr, eyeing Cyrus curiously.

"You know them?"

"I know everyone here." Her voice softened. "This is where I grew up."

She led him down an impossibly narrow alley that opened into a small courtyard. Worn steps led to a heavy wooden door.

"The orphanage," she said. "My first home."

"Not anymore?"

"No." She sat on the steps. "But I still visit. Help when I can."

Cyrus joined her. The courtyard felt separate from the rest of the city, like a pocket of stillness in the chaos.

"Most people think Daedalus Street is dangerous," Syr continued. "They're not wrong. But it's also..."

"Home."

"Yes." She smiled. "For those who need one."

A bell chimed somewhere in the maze of streets. Syr stood, brushing off her dress.

"Come on. There's more to see."

They wandered deeper into the labyrinth. Syr pointed out landmarks only locals would recognize - a crooked chimney that always pointed north, a door that led to three different streets depending on the time of day.

"How do you keep track?"

"Practice." She grinned. "And a good memory for patterns."

They turned another impossible corner. A small square opened up, surrounded by mismatched buildings. Tables and chairs spilled out of what looked like a cafe.

"Best coffee in Orario," Syr said. "If you know how to order it."

"Do you?"

"Maybe." She tugged his hand. "But that's a secret for another night."

The sky had darkened to deep purple. Lanterns flickered to life along the walls, casting dancing shadows.

"We should head back," Syr said. "Unless..."

"Unless?"

Her eyes sparkled in the lamplight. "Unless you're feeling adventurous?"

"What did you have in mind?"

She pulled him toward a narrow staircase built into the wall. "Best view in the city. If you trust me?"

"Should I?"

"Probably not." She laughed. "Coming anyway?"

He followed her up the stairs. They emerged onto a rooftop garden, plants growing in scattered pots and boxes. The maze of Daedalus Street spread out below them.

"Worth the risk?" Syr sat on a low wall, patting the space beside her.

Cyrus joined her. From here, he could see how the streets formed patterns - subtle rhythms hidden in the chaos.

"You see it now?" Syr asked. "The logic in the madness?"

"Starting to."

"Most don't." She leaned back, looking up at the emerging stars. "They see the confusion and run. Never learn to read the signs."

"Like what?"

"Like that." She pointed to a weathered carving above a door. "Tells you which way is north, if you know how to look. Or that." A series of colored tiles. "Marks safe houses for children."

"You learned all this growing up?"

"Had to." She shrugged. "Streets aren't kind to orphans who don't pay attention."

Silence settled between them, comfortable as an old blanket. The city's nightlife awakened below - different rhythms, different patterns.

"Your turn," Syr said finally.

"For what?"

"A secret." She turned to face him. "I showed you mine. Fair's fair."

"I don't remember most of mine."

"Convenient." Her smile held no judgment. "But you remember some things?"

"Fragments." He watched the stars emerge. "Muscle memory. Skills without context."

"Must be strange."

"Sometimes." He looked at her. "Other times it feels... right. Like muscle memory for the soul."

"Poetic." She bumped his shoulder with hers. "But you're dodging the question."

"Which was?"

"A secret. Real one."

He considered. "I let a coin decide my path today."

"A coin?"

"Heads for main streets. Tails for alleys."

"And?"

"Tails."

She laughed. "So finding the Hostess was luck?"

"If you believe in luck."

"In Orario?" Her eyes sparkled. "Always."

A clock tower chimed somewhere in the maze. Syr sighed.

"That's my cue." She stood, brushing off her dress. "Mama Mia's rules - home by midnight."

"I'll walk you."

"Sweet offer, but unnecessary." She grinned. "These are my streets, remember?"

"Even so."

"Such a gentleman." She offered her hand. "One last secret then - the quick way down."

The "quick way" involved a series of connected rooftops, hidden stairs, and one slightly terrifying jump. They emerged near the main street, the Hostess's lights visible in the distance.

"Well?" Syr stopped at the corner. "How was your tour?"

"Educational."

"Just educational?"

"Enlightening?"

She laughed. "We'll work on your compliments another time."

"Another time?"

"If you're interested. I know more secrets than just streets."

"I believe you."

"Good." She stepped closer, rising on tiptoes to whisper: "If you want, come back tomorrow. Same time."

Then she was gone, vanishing into the night like she'd never been there. Only a lingering scent of lavender remained.

Cyrus watched until she turned the corner, then started his own journey home. The coin stayed in his pocket.

==========

Next morning, Cyrus stared at the ceiling, mind catching up with consciousness.

Meeting with Rose. Training with Quet.

Both at dawn.

He reached for the coin, then stopped. Some choices needed to be made without luck.

The inn's kitchen was empty save for Marcus, who looked up from dough he was kneading.

"Early."

"Need to see the goddess."

Marcus grunted, jerking his head toward a covered basket. "Mya left that."

Inside: fresh bread, dried meat, fruit. A note in flowing script: Fuel the machine.

The streets belonged to merchants at this hour - setting up stalls, arranging wares. They paid him little attention, focused on their own rhythms.

He found Quet in her garden, moving through forms that looked more like dance than combat. Her hair caught the pre-dawn light, moving like liquid gold.

She finished the sequence before acknowledging him. "You're late."

"Have a meeting at the Guild."

"Ah." She smiled. "Rose?"

"How-"

"I have my ways." She stretched, bones popping. "Go. We'll train after."

"You're not angry?"

"At you taking responsibility seriously?" She winked. "Never. Besides, gives me time to plan something special."

The way she said 'special' promised pain.

"Now shoo." She made a shooing motion. "Don't keep the puppy waiting."

"Puppy?"

"You'll see."

The Guild was quieter at dawn. A few early risers traded crystals or consulted with advisors. No one looked up as he entered.

Rose waited by her desk, looking fresh despite the hour. Her tail swished once at his approach.

"You came."

"You doubted?"

"Most don't." She gathered some papers. "This way."

They used the same room as yesterday. Rose locked the door immediately.

"Prevention," she said, noting his look. "Now. The dungeon."

She spread a map across the table. Lines and numbers marked different levels, annotations filling the margins.

"Upper floors first." She tapped the top section. "Levels one through twelve. Suitable for beginners."

"Monsters?"

"Goblins and kobolds on one through four." She pointed to crude sketches. "War Shadows and Killer Ants start appearing at five. Hence the name 'Newbie Killers'."

"Charming."

"Reality rarely is." She marked spots with her pen. "Safe routes here and here. Stay on them until you know the layout."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I write another death report." Her ears flattened. "I have enough of those."

They worked through each floor's details - monster types, crystal values, common mistakes. Rose's knowledge ran deep, peppered with personal observations.

"Dungeon walls repair themselves," she said, demonstrating with sketches. "Monsters spawn from them. Never turn your back on one."

She met his eyes. "The dungeon isn't a game. It's not an adventure. It's a meat grinder that doesn't care about talent or potential."

"You've seen both."

"I've seen arrogance." She tapped the map. "Level ones who thought they were special. Level threes who got cocky. Level fives who-"

She stopped, jaw tight.

"The point is," she continued after a moment, "everyone dies the same way. Thinking they're different."

"And I'm not?"

"You tell me."

He studied the map, tracing paths with his finger. "I'm not special. Just prepared."

"We'll see." But her tail relaxed slightly. "Now, about equipment..."

They covered basic gear requirements, crystal harvesting techniques, emergency procedures. Rose's explanations were thorough, laced with hard-earned wisdom.

"Questions?" she asked finally.

"One." He pointed to a blank section. "What's here?"

"Unmapped." She shuffled papers. "Some areas resist exploration. Others... change."

"The dungeon moves?"

"Sometimes." She shrugged. "No one knows why. Just another way it kills the unwary."

A knock interrupted them. Rose's ears twitched.

"Yes?"

"Sorry!" A muffled voice. "But there's someone here about Mr. Valentine's registration..."

Rose opened the door. A small crowd of women filled the hallway, each clutching papers.

"We heard he might need a supporter-"

"I have experience-"

"My skills would be perfect-"

Rose slammed the door. Locked it. Turned to Cyrus with narrowed eyes.

"This is your fault."

"I didn't-"

"You exist." She pinched her nose. "That's enough, apparently."

More knocking. Rose growled.

"Back door," she said, pointing. "I'll handle this."

"You sure?"

"Go." But her lips twitched. "Before I add you to my report collection."

He slipped out as Rose opened the main door, voice carrying: "What did I say about interrupting meetings?"

The back halls were empty. He emerged into morning sunlight, leaving the sound of Rose's lecture behind.

Quet waited in the field from yesterday, surrounded by training dummies.

"How was the puppy?"

"Protective."

"Good." She grinned. "She'll keep you honest. Now..."

She cracked her knuckles.

"Let's learn something new today."