ora

, and smelled perpetually of spil

s groaned beneath every step and the magical wards rattled whenever a heavy delivery carriage rattled p

at an entry-level preparatory workshop three blocks south of Atheria's central square. If Silas was going

f an old potion apothecary across the street from t

ng steam vents that connected directly to the mortal city's underground heating pipes. It was dirty

ark hair. My hands were shoved deep into the front pouch, my posture

ugh the clatter of horse c

aerodynamic lines that didn't belong in this rotting neighborhood, floating three inches above the wet stones wit

ight at the street corner, t

ung open with a whisper of

ut onto the dam

ra hide that shed the falling drizzle like liquid mercury. He didn't wear a hood. His dark hair was clipped short

im made the air feel thin. It was that suffocating, effortless presence unique to ol

n Car

a silver shield crossed by a twin-headed serpent. Aegi

ring dark, functional field uniforms and

gaze sweeping across the crowded market street

rough the mist. Over the past three years in the underground duel rings, operating under the alias Silent, I had stared down

the oversized sweatshirt that clearly had seen better years. His evaluation was swift, col

ien's left side. Felix scanned the surrounding storefronts with open distaste,

e for the Saint Hand went completely dead right in this sector. But... look at this place. A legendary

away from me, dismis

a low gravel that seemed to vibrate against the stone walls. "Search the perimeter all

answered, motionin

y. Damien took a step to follow them, and the crushing pre

controlled breat

alias was supposed to stay buried until I had the proper laboratory equipment to brew high-tier antidotes, and

onze bell clanged

ght- and nine-year-old magical children spilled out onto the sidewalk, sho

wd, running directly across the muddy

liberately avoiding using

y waist. His face was flushed pink from the indoor heat

t down on one knee in the drizzle, reaching out to pull

tructor kept messing up the third somatic gesture for the minor levitation charm. He was flicking his wrist

r. "Good boy. We don't need anyone asking questions a

apothecary's dark display window caught a sudd

le had paused

hands fix Silas's collar, watching the kid lean his forehead against my shoulder with absolute, unquestioning trust. From his distant vantage poin

n with gold-rimmed spectacles and a tailore

signature. False alarm, Damien. Just an exhausted young mother picking up her boy from the r

rom cold suspicion to a faint, unreadable detachment, a quiet, arrogant pity. To him, I was just another stati

ed into the shadows of the alley, h

g Silas's small ha

ng mo

thetic and invisible I seemed to pureblood aristocrats like Da

fingers, looking up at me.

tram stop. "Come on. Let's go back to th

d Carlisle was half the man my mother said he was, Silas wouldn