After signing the Healing potion deal with House Monte Carlo, Malek headed toward Grandpa Hendrick's shop.

  The shop was on 18th Street, about fifteen minutes from Malek's house. He hummed "Stay with Me" as he walked, still riding the high from closing the deal.

  A hand grabbed his neck from behind.

  Malek stopped mid-verse in panic.

  "Look what I have here." It was Jason. He dragged Malek toward a group waiting nearby.

  "Oh, isn't it Malek the wolf slayer," said the kid with the hangman's face. Anyone could tell he was a thug in a single glance.

  Jony and Mic too. There goes my good mood.

  Jason released Malek's neck with a shove. Jony and Mic caught him by the arms.

  "Didn't I ask you to meet with us? But you ignored us. Why is that, Malek?" Jason asked.

  "Yeah, why is that," Jony repeated.

  Jason crossed his arms like he was contemplating something deep. "Aren't we your best friends? We've been so good to you since childhood, but you always pull this kind of thing." He shook his head slowly. "Why do you do that, Malek? Why can't you understand how much we care about you?"

  Malek cursed Jason's seven generations in his mind.

  "What are you talking about? I didn't ignore you. I just wasn't healed after the accident yet. That's why I didn't come. I'm sorry about that."

  Jason put both hands on Malek's shoulders. "Oh, look at me being inconsiderate. Well, no need to think more about it." He leaned in close and whispered. "As long as you do what I said, we're good. You know how much I care about you, right? Then you understand what I'm asking. It's important for both of us."

  He started squeezing Malek's shoulders hard.

  "Next time, make sure you bring your sister to the place I asked. You understand me? And if you make another excuse to delay it..." Jason's hand started glowing faintly red. "I will kill you, Malek. And that pathetic whore of a mother too."

  Jason stepped back, friendly smile plastered on his face again.

  "I'm sure you're a busy person now, Malek. I won't take much of your time. You can leave. Tell me if anyone troubles you."

  Malek started walking, his face hidden in the shadow cast by the houses.

  Before he got too far, Jason whispered one more time. "After all, we're going to be relatives soon."

  Malek disappeared from Jason's sight, hands clenched hard.

  Jason's father had been good friends with Elara's father. But after his death, Jason's father rose through social circles fast and became managing director of the Adventurer Guild, an important position. The problem was he'd spoiled his son rotten.

  Years ago, when Mira was working at Grandpa Hendrick's shop, she'd brought Elara and seven-year-old Malek with her. That day, Jason's father Anthony had come to meet Grandpa Hendrick's. He brought Jason with him. And that motherfucker fell for Elara on the spot. He'd been making trouble ever since.

  One day, I will make him pay.

  Malek arrived at Grandpa Hendrick's shop, a two-story building with a huge sign out front: "Hendrick's Blacksmith Shop."

  The shop was closed. He knocked three times and waited.

  Malek took deep breath calming his raging heart.

  The door opened and Grandpa Hendrick's greeted him with an ugly face. "What are you doing here, you dumb brat?"

  Malek held up a piece of paper.

  "Oh." Grandpa Hendrick's expression changed. He stepped aside and opened the door wider. "Come in, brat."

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Grandpa Hendrick's house was less like a house and more like a smithy with only one room. The main shop was in the basement. The first floor was all forge and workspace.

  "I don't know much about what makes a weapon good or bad, but these look really good, Grandpa Hendrick." Malek stared at the weapons mounted on the wall.

  He reached out to touch one.

  A rough hand grabbed his head from behind and squeezed hard.

  "Ow, ow!"

  "How many times do I have to tell you not to touch anything here? Why don't you learn?"

  "I'm sorry, just let go—my head going to explode!"

  Hendrick released him with a reluctant expression.

  "I didn't think you'd pull it off, brat. Did you really convince Stephen?"

  "Of course I did. What do you take me for?" Malek clutched his hand.

  As Malek took a seat at one of the wooden tables, he caught a brief flash of pride in Hendrick's eyes.

  "So you're here for the vials," Hendrick said.

  "Did you learn mind-reading magic?" Malek asked in mock shock.

  Hendrick's palm twitched like it wanted to smack something.

  "There's no such thing as mind-reading magic." He moved toward a shelf on his left and took out a large box.

  "Anyway, thanks for connecting me with him. If not for your help, I never would have pulled off this deal."

  "Yeah, you should be grateful."

  Hendrick set the box in front of Malek.

  "Here are your vials. If you don't need anything else, get out. I need to sleep."

  Malek opened the box. Inside were one hundred empty vials, each about three centimeters long. He started checking them over.

  Hendrick watched him. After a moment, he asked, "Did you meet Jason on your way here?"

  Malek stopped mid-inspection. "Yeah. How did you know?"

  “There are only few incentive where your ugly face becomes even more ugly and meeting Jason is one of them.”

  “Hey.” Malek said annoyed.

  "I already told your mother this, but let me tell you again, you don't have to worry about that pig doing anything to little Elara. As long as I'm here."

  "You understand?"

  "I know, Grandpa. How could you let your favorite granddaughter get hurt? I only wish you cared about me as much." Malek put on a sad expression.

  "Don't weep those fake tears here. If you were even a little bit as good a child as Elara, I would. You're not even cute."

  Malek clutched his chest in mock pain. "How can you say that? Mother says I'm the most handsome man in all of Verant."

  Hendrick threw him out of the house.

  …

  Mira held Elara's hand as they walked through the market street. The afternoon sun was warm, and the smell of fresh bread mixed with spices filled the air.

  "Can we get some apples, Mother?" Elara asked, pointing at a fruit stall.

  "We'll see. Let me check the prices first."

  They stopped at the stall. The vendor, an old woman with kind eyes, smiled at them.

  "Good afternoon, Fresh apples today, just came in this morning."

  Mira picked up an apple and examined it.

  "How much?"

  "Ten Ran for Three."

  "I'll take Nine then."

  While the vendor packed the apples, Elara tugged at Mira's sleeve. "Mother, look at that."

  She pointed at a notice board across the street. A crowd had gathered around it, people talking excitedly among themselves.

  "What's going on there?" Mira wondered aloud.

  "Let's go see!" Elara pulled her toward the board.

  They squeezed through the crowd. A large paper was pinned at the center of the board, the Town Lord's seal stamped at the top.

  Mira read it out loud:

  ANNOUNCEMENT

  The Verdant Magic Institute will open its doors for new student admissions. All residents of Verant between the ages of 12 and 18 are eligible to apply. Tuition will be subsidized by the Town Lord for qualified students.

  Admission tests will be held in two weeks at the Town Hall.

  Requirements: Basic literacy and a letter of recommendation from a registered citizen.

  Mira's breath caught in her throat. She read it again, making sure she understood correctly.

  "Mother, does this mean I can go to the Magic Institute?" Elara's eyes were wide with hope.

  "I... I think so." Mira's voice was barely a whisper.

  A woman next to them scoffed. "Subsidized tuition? They'll still find ways to make it expensive. It's always like that with these things."

  "At least they're giving common folk a chance," another man said. "My son has talent. Maybe he can finally learn proper magic instead of watching from the sidelines."

  Mira pulled Elara away from the crowd. Her mind was racing. Elara was the perfect age. And she had talent. Real talent. Master Hendrick had said so himself.

  But there were problems. Big ones.

  The letter of recommendation. They needed someone registered and respectable to vouch for Elara. Mr. Henrick could do it, probably. But would it be enough?

  And then there was Jason. If he found out Elara was attending the Magic Institute, he'd find ways to interfere. Anthony had connections everywhere.

  "Mother, can I really go?" Elara asked again, her voice small.

  Mira looked down at her daughter. Those hopeful eyes. The same eyes that lit up whenever she saw someone cast magic in the streets. The same eyes that dimmed every time Mira said they couldn't afford proper training.

  "We'll talk to your brother first," Mira said. "And Master Hendrick. We need to think this through carefully."

  "But you're not saying no?"

  Mira squeezed her hand. "I'm not saying no."

  Elara beamed. She didn't jump or squeal like other girls her age might. She just smiled—a quiet, genuine smile that made Mira's heart ache.

  They continued shopping, but Mira's mind was elsewhere. She calculated their savings. Thought about who they knew. Considered the risks.

  By the time they headed home, the sun was lower in the sky. Elara chattered about what subjects might be taught at the Institute. Mira listened, nodding at the right moments.

  But inside, worry gnawed at her.

  This opportunity could change Elara's life. It could give her a future beyond washing clothes and working odd jobs. It could give her power—the kind

  that protected you from people like Jason.

  But it could also paint a bigger target on her back.

  Mira looked at her daughter's excited face and made a decision.