Eis looked over the captives—thin, trembling, hollow-eyed but alive. The decision came without hesitation.

  “We’re pulling out,” she said.

  Ronan nodded sharply, already moving the freed prisoners toward the corridor.

  “Kael and Lira are waiting at the boats.”

  Both understood the weight beneath his tone. Any longer and the tunnels would collapse around them.

  Eis took point for the retreat, crossbow raised, knife ready. Ronan guided the captives behind her, one hand hovering near his blade at all times.

  The deeper wards crackled behind them like a storm inside stone.

  They retraced the path carved through chaos.

  Smoke drifted in broken columns where spells had detonated. Bodies lay scattered across the corridor—some still twitching from overloaded implants that sputtered red sparks.

  At the first bend, Kael appeared through the mist—bow slung over one shoulder, a fresh cut streaking across his armguard.

  “All clear topside,” the archer reported. “Docks are ours. Lira’s ready.”

  Eis motioned him forward. The group pressed through the lower aqueduct where shadows pooled thick around the supports.

  Lira, leaning against a small, low-profile barge, snapped her leather spellbook shut as they approached. Soft runic light faded from her fingers.

  “Everyone accounted for?” she asked.

  “All of them,” Ronan said.

  “Then get in. I’ve warded the water; no one’s tracking us.”

  The captives were helped aboard—some carried, some stumbling weakly. Kael and Ronan pushed off the dock while Lira and Eis took the rear guard.

  The barge drifted into the slow, dark current—slipping away before pursuit could form.

  Only oars breaking water disturbed the silence.

  Mist clung low, turning the canal into a silver-gray corridor.

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  Eis kept her eyes on the tunnel mouths behind them. Distant shouts echoed—late, confused, directionless.

  For now, they were shadows.

  Lira exhaled beside her.

  “That was a lot of noise,” she said. “Especially for you.”

  “It worked.”

  “True.” Lira gave a small smirk. “Hard to argue with results.”

  Kael rowed quietly at the bow, his eyes scanning rooftops and bridge shadows—always watching for archers.

  Dawn broke as they reached the lower Guild landing—silver light spilling across the water.

  Medics and guards were ready, expecting their arrival. The rescued mages were lifted onto stretchers; civilians collapsed on the stones, crying or staring in disbelief.

  Captain Darel strode over, armor half-buckled, eyes sharp.

  “All of them alive?”

  “All we could reach,” Ronan said.

  “That’s more than enough.”

  His gaze landed on Eis and Team Argent.

  “You guys just gutted one of the largest slave networks in the city. Lumaire won’t forget that.”

  Eis didn’t respond.

  Ronan clapped a hand lightly on her shoulder.

  “We did what we could. The next part is coming.”

  Lira added softly, “You saved them, Eis.”

  Eis remained silent, focused.

  There was more ahead. Much more.

  Inside, the chamber smelled of ink and parchment.

  Team Argent gave their account together.

  The archivist recorded:

  “Operation Aqueduct. Casualties minimal. Hostile forces neutralized. Fourteen civilians recovered. Two mages recovered. One mage missing. Operation lead: Eis of Argent.”

  When the report ended, Darel dismissed everyone—except Eis.

  He set a sealed parchment on the table.

  “The Archmage Division is requesting a formal debrief. You’re not under investigation, but they need context around the artifact. You’re not required to disclose anything… personal. Rest first. Then report when ready.”

  Eis nodded and slipped the parchment into her cloak.

  As she stepped out, Darel added quietly:

  “Ronan said you took point. You didn’t have to. That matters.”

  She offered only a nod and left.

  The Guild was returning to routine. Recruits trained in the yard. Clerks hurried between offices.

  The world moved as if the last night hadn’t happened.

  Eis sat on a stone bench beneath stained glass.

  Color washed over her cloak, shifting with the rising sun.

  Lira passed by with two steaming mugs and placed one beside her.

  “You earned it.”

  She sat next to Eis.

  The two let a comfortable silence sit between them.

  Eis took a sip—bitter, warm, grounding.

  The sun rose further, painting the courtyard gold.

  A city remembering it was safe.