The name came as a surprise to Toney, though he didn’t show it.

  “Sky?” he asked.

  “Yes. Ring any bell?” Leon replied.

  “Mmmm … not a very common name. But Jack—he was a ladies’ man, to some extent,” Toney said, taking a sip of wine after finishing his words.

  “She was young. Not his age,” Leon said.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because the whole thing started with our men,” Azeya answered. “They saw a beautiful young girl, tried taking her, and one survived.”

  “And I’m guessing it was Jack,” Toney said.

  “Yes. Only one knew about the swords,” Leon replied. “By the time we got there, the girl had already left.”

  “And Jack?” Toney asked.

  At that moment, Karl passed by the door.

  “Karl! Come here,” Leon called out.

  Karl stepped in, surprised. It was as if the door wasn’t even closed.

  “I’d like you to call Ryke—and tell him to come with the thing,” Leon said.

  Karl nodded and left immediately.

  “Did you tag him?” Toney asked.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Yes. He’s kind of important,” Leon replied.

  “Important? Is this Ryke also important?” Toney pressed.

  “He’s… let’s just say interesting. More than important,” Leon said, still smiling.

  It took a while, but Ryke finally arrived with a small brown bag—a bag Toney would never forget. It had Secrets written across it. Toney wiped a tear from his left eye, forcing a half-smile.

  “Was it your doing?” Toney asked.

  “I merely put him out of his misery,” Leon replied.

  “Can I have the swords?” Toney said, glancing at Ryke, who was seated on the third sofa to his right.

  Ryke looked at Leon, who gave a simple nod.

  Toney stared at the bag for a moment. “Can I have a pillow?” he asked.

  All it took for Azeya to return with the pillow was a minute “Here,” she said, handing it over before taking her seat.

  Toney placed the pillow between his reaching hand and the bag on the table. Slowly, he reached inside. The instant his hand touched the hilt of the swords, his body went limp—falling face-first, the pillow catching him.

  'That’s why he asked for it,' Ryke thought, realizing that without the pillow, Toney’s head would’ve smashed against the table.

  A few minutes later, Toney stirred and sat back up. He noticed Ryke wearing the ring—a small gem glinting faintly on top. Toney watched for almost five minutes. Nothing happened.

  “Some people are late bloomers,” he said with a grin. “Or maybe he’s just a commoner.”

  “Ryke,” Leon said calmly.

  Ryke stretched out his hand. Toney watched as the sword materialized from thin air—forming from Ryke’s palm to its tip.

  “Wait…” Toney leaned forward, eyes widening. “I’ve heard about this—back then, just as rumors. People who appear as commoners but aren’t.” He resisted the urge to test it himself. “But is that all?” he asked, leaning back.

  “I can also sense your body,” Ryke replied, “as long as you’re in range—and the power difference is big enough.”

  “The interesting part,” Toney said, “is that you still register as a commoner.”

  “So what do you think?” Leon asked.

  “I know you’ve got a theory,” Toney said. “We can discuss that later.” He took a long sip of wine. “In fact, I’ve heard the Dwelves and magicians—those who study—are working on something stronger to measure abilities.”

  “The Dwelves and the Arcwrights?” Azeya asked.

  “Yes. Supposedly, a princess from the United Kingdom of Kaelwyn—one of the seven—is a commoner,” Toney replied.

  “And that’s a big scandal if the person’s royal, isn’t it?” Leon said.

  “Those people overthink it,” Toney said with a shrug. “But hey, at least there’s a system.”

  He stood up before taking another sip of wine, his head still slightly spinning. “I need a rest. And there’s someone outside your walls—spying, I think.”

  “Should we ask which side,” Leon said with his usual smirk, “or are you assuming we can see them too?”

  “East side. Where the forest is—you know that place,” Toney said, already walking toward the door.

  Azeya was about to rise, but Ryke was already on his feet.

  “Let me handle them,” Ryke said, walking out. “It’s been quiet lately.”

  The walk from the room to the eastern wall should’ve taken ten minutes—but Ryke was already outside, sitting on a boy’s chest. The boy looked his age, maybe younger.

  “You’re too weak,” Ryke said with a face of pure disappointment.

  “I’ve… I’ve just been sent. Please…” the boy gasped, blood dripping from his mouth, his eyes swollen shut.

  “I wasn’t supposed to hit you that hard—no, not that,” Ryke muttered, standing up. “I wasn’t expecting you to be weak like a bitch who’s starving.”

  He grabbed the boy’s left leg and started to drag him away. Then he froze.

  He then heard it like a whisper in his mind , all this time it had been quite but now he heard it , like an instinct.

  “Arrow," it whispered, turning sharply just as it came into view. Ryke split the arrow midair with a single strike.