David stepped out of Viera’s office, the pouch of silver tucked securely under his shirt.

  The coins pressed hard against his skin, but he didn’t mind it.

  He moved urgently, making his way through the busy streets toward the city gates.

  Anxiety and determination drove him forward, ignoring curious glances from passersby.

  The guardhouse sat next to the entrance tunnel. It shared the same grey stone facade as the rest of the walls.

  The closer he was, the more the stress got to him. His steps turned into a jog then into a run. He opened the doors and entered the room.

  The office was filled with guards, some young and restless, others older and worn.

  A few immediately eyed him greedily, their gazes flickering hungrily toward the slight bulge of the coin pouch beneath his shirt.

  Others watched with kinder eyes, curious or sympathetic to the child in their midst.

  David’s shoulders tensed under their gazes, but he ignored them all, crossing the room with purpose to the clerk seated at a worn wooden desk.

  "I'm here for Sophie," he said, voice firm despite the tension building in his chest.

  The middle-aged man gave him a disinterested glance, then shrugged. "For whom?"

  David blanked for a second looking at the clerk.”A girl with green-hair, two heads taller than me.” He said. "I'm paying her bail."

  The clerk behind the desk turned his eyes, thinking for a moment. “Ah, her. Two-fifty.” He finally said.

  David nodded, withdrawing the heavy pouch and placing it carefully on the table.

  The clerk pulled out a bronze bowl etched with faint, swirling symbols.

  David understood immediately what it was for, and so began pouring coins in, the metallic clinks echoing loudly.

  As coins piled inside, and suddenly, the symbols ignited with a soft golden glow. The clerk lifted a hand.

  "That's enough."

  David tightened the pouch, now much lighter, and tucked it away again. A move that didn’t escape the watchful gazes of some unpleasant-looking guards.

  "This way," the clerk said, sighing as he led David deeper into the guardhouse. They descended a short flight of stairs, into the cells below.

  The jail was dimly lit but clean, well-maintained despite the oppressive atmosphere. A small relief. At least Sophie wasn’t thrown into some decrepit hole.

  They stopped by one of the first cells.

  Sophie sat huddled in the corner, her face buried in her knees, quietly sobbing. But as soon as she sensed them approaching, her head snapped up.

  Her eyes widened, red-rimmed and filled with relief when she saw David.

  The clerk unlocked the door, and Sophie rushed forward, throwing her arms around David. She clung tightly, her body trembling.

  "Marco," she whispered shakily, voice catching. “Am I free to go?”

  He gently pulled away, meeting her gaze and signaling with his eyes.

  We need to get out now.

  She understood immediately, wiping away the last of her tears as they ascended back into the guardhouse.

  As they passed through the main room, David noticed several of the guards with dark, calculating expressions rising lazily from their seats, stretching as if about to head outside for a stroll.

  A chill crawled down his spine.

  The moment the heavy door shut behind them, David grabbed Sophie's arm firmly.

  "Run!”

  Without hesitation, Sophie matched his pace, feet pounding across the cobblestones as they dashed through the crowded streets.

  The nearly empty pouch rattled loudly against his chest.

  David didn’t slow down until they were at the doors to their flat. Sophie kept pace, panting hard but not complaining.

  After that insane dash, they reached their building without incident.

  Inside, the worn wooden door clicked shut behind them, and David finally exhaled. The pouch under his shirt hung limp and nearly empty.

  Sophie leaned against the wall, her breathing slowing. Her eyes were still red.

  "What happened?" David asked between ragged breaths. "Why would you— hit a guard?"

  "I didn’t!" Sophie burst out, the words tumbling over each other. "I felt like— someone was grabbing me from behind. Like—like a hand… on my shoulder.”

  Tears were welling up in her eyes. “But I just pulled away!"

  Her arms wrapped tightly around herself. "I turned around, defending myself, but nobody would listen to me.” Her voice was growing more frantic. “Other guards just walked up to me and took me to jail."

  David stared at her, Viera’s words ringing in his head. They would sentence her to death outside the city just because she didn’t let them grope her?

  He looked up to her, but stopped himself from grabbing her arm, just in case. "What’s important is that you’re okay."

  Sophie looked at the ground. "I'm sorry for being a burden."

  "You're not. We should file a complaint or something.“

  “What if they come back for me?” Her voice was soft when she asked,

  “Then I’ll help you again. You did the right thing standing your ground.”

  She nodded slowly.

  They stood like that for a short while, before Sophie’s head snapped up, her brows tightly knit. "How did you get the money?"

  David hesitated.

  A dozen excuses piled in his throat, but none felt right.

  He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "I-I talked with Viera."

  "You borrowed it?"

  "No. I signed a contract with her. For work."

  "Marco, you can’t… No, why would you…” She sighed. “You should’ve left me. Or gone to Aura. They would’ve figured something out."

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "It’s not that bad, don’t be so dramatic," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "It’s normal work. Well paid, even. I would’ve done it anyway."

  Now that he said it out loud, it didn’t even feel like a lie.

  Sophie’s eyes narrowed. "What will you be doing? Can I come help you somehow?"

  David looked away. "I-I can’t tell you. We’ll have to work separately for now."

  It stung to say it out loud. Their little forest excursions had become routine. Dangerous. Stressful. But welcome.

  But he couldn’t drag her into this.

  "But with the new money, we’ll get your citizenship soon," he added. "You’ll be safer."

  "Again with the secrets?" Sophie snapped. "What could be worse than you having monster claws grow out of your hands?"

  He opened his mouth to argue—then stopped. She had a point.

  "You’re right. Sorry. But please don’t tell Mom and Dad."

  She stared at him.

  David hesitated, then added, more quietly, "I think Viera might be some rebel. Or a spy. It’s all so shady. I don’t want to risk involving anyone else."

  "Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about?" Sophie looked incredulous. "Then why even work with her?"

  David looked out the window. "They’ll help train me in magic."

  There. He said it.

  Sophie followed his gaze. Outside, beyond the lower rooftops, the distant silhouette of the academy rose against the sky, vast and unreachable.

  She didn’t say anything for a long moment.

  Then she nodded, slowly. "I’m happy for you. Glad you found something for yourself…" She stopped herself mid sentence, a wistful smile on her face.

  David woke up before the sun.

  The city was still cloaked in silence, its streets faintly silvered with dew and moonlight.

  He lay still in the cramped bed, eyes closed, listening to the even breathing of Aura and Bert.

  Eventually they stirred and got up. He waited for them to leave for work.

  He counted to fifty, then quietly dressed up, hoping to not wake Sophie up, and slipped out the door.

  He started on his way to Mason’s Retreat and quickly found himself jogging. The anxiety and the excitement of something new warred within him.

  When he reached the tavern, the doors were shut tight, and no smoke rose from the chimney.

  He was too early. Not even the barkeep was up.

  David sat down on the curb outside, arms wrapped around his knees. He let the quiet echoes of people working to the work camp wrap around him, oddly comforting despite the cold.

  Footsteps approached.

  David barely noticed at first, until the man stopped just a few steps away.

  "What are you doing here so early?" the stranger asked, his tone overly familiar.

  David kept his head down. "Just sitting around," he said vaguely. Then, with a nervous smirk.

  Can you just go away?

  "Do you have some food, kind sir?" David hoped to dissuade him.

  The man chuckled. "Nice try. But if you’re going to be a beggar, you better have the refugee armband next time."

  David’s ears burned. He smiled awkwardly as he lifted his head.

  The man towered over him, wrapped in frayed, dirt-caked robes. Beneath his hood, strands of crimson red hair fell across his brow.

  David flinched. Not due to the outfit.

  It was the mana.

  Mostly everything had some, so he usually tuned it out… But an incredibly intense signature surrounded the man.

  "Don’t get scared, kid," the man said gently. "Must be a weird sight for someone with special eyes."

  David stood up on reflex, backing away. Mana flared in the man’s hand and David bumped into something. He twisted around.

  There was nothing there.

  But he couldn’t move past it.

  "A simple barrier," the man smirked.

  David stared at him. His voice came out thinner than he liked. "Who are you?"

  The man paused, as if enjoying David’s fear. Then his expression completely shifted.

  He smiled wide. "I’m Dolen. Your magic tutor."

  And with that, he turned and started walking. The mana around him weakened until it looked like the average amount.

  David stood frozen for a second.

  He was supposed to meet Viera, but maybe she had arranged for them to meet already?

  “Hold on!” He shouted.

  Then, seeing the man wasn’t about to stop or explain, he jogged after him.

  David followed Dolen to the gates, through the tunnel and toward the forest.

  Outside, the sun was already rising. City sounds gradually gave way to chirps of early birds and the crunch of undergrowth beneath their feet.

  Eventually, Dolen stopped beside a moss-covered stone and turned around.

  “All right,” he said. “Let’s begin. Show me a spark.”

  David blinked. “A spark?”

  “Yes. You know—” Dolen raised his hand, mana flared around it, and a scatter of sparks burst from his palm. “—a spark.”

  David’s eyes widened. “How did you do that?”

  Dolen tilted his head. “Wait. What did you study again?”

  “Alchemy,” David said cautiously.

  “Ahhh.” Dolen grinned. “That explains it. But with your sight you shouldn’t need much explanation.”

  He raised his hand again, and a set of gleaming runes materialized in the air above it, slowly filling with glowing mana until they hit a threshold.

  The center flared with light, and a shower of sparks exploded harmlessly around them.

  Dolen lowered his hand and gave David an expectant look.

  David stared. He knew the runes. He could even read their function. But what was he supposed to do?

  “I… I don’t know how to make them show up.”

  “Huh?” Dolen scratched his head. “That’s like the first thing you learn.”

  “It wasn’t for me.” David said slowly, a little ashamed.

  “Weird.” Dolen shrugged. “Imagine the runes in front of you, focus your mana into your eyes, and they should appear.”

  David’s was about to try before Dolen stopped him.

  He then added, casually. “And don’t pour in too much mana. Or your eyes might explode.”

  “Wait, what?” He gulped.

  He remembered the mana bruising his muscles whenever he lost control. What if it happened inside… No, no no.

  Dolen had already crouched by a nearby tree, plucking up a fallen branch and examining it like he was picking herbs, utterly unconcerned.

  He shook his head.

  Don’t overthink this. Just imagine the runes.

  He pictured the spark array Dolen had just used.

  Simple, he had seen similar ones in Aura’s notes many times.

  Once he was sure he got it right, he fed the tiniest thread of mana into his eyes.

  For a moment, nothing.

  Then, faint lines shimmered into view, etched in air.

  The runes hovered, flickering like candlelight. Then vanished the moment he let the flow drop.

  His breath hitched. He tried again.

  This time, he held the image in his mind longer. He channeled mana carefully, keeping the pattern stable.

  A distant whisper echoed in his mind. A familiar voice that he couldn’t place. It felt similar to his claws.

  He lost focus. The runes fizzled out.

  His mana sight came the same way his claws did. Could that voice be…

  I am not interrupting my training to worry about this. He slapped his cheeks and tried again.

  The runes formed and stayed.

  Encouraged, he reached toward them and began pushing mana into them, ignoring the almost silent echoes in his mind.

  One rune filled far faster than the others.

  David tried to balance it out, but only skewed the balance further.

  Boom.

  A sharp pop cracked through the clearing as the runes exploded in a tiny shockwave.

  David stumbled back, his vision dancing.

  He would’ve hit the ground if not for a soft shimmer that caught him. He found himself held up by a barrier.

  Dolen, still fiddling with the branch, didn’t even look up.

  “Slower. Or you’ll get hurt for real.” he said.

  David pushed himself upright, coughing slightly. “You could’ve warned me.”

  “I just did,” Dolen said, brushing dirt from the stick. “Keep trying.”

  The morning passed in a blur of light and failure.

  David tried again and again, finding new and creative ways to fail the task.

  But the progress was real, and so was the thrill. Even the new voice in his head couldn’t dampen his enthusiasm.

  Dolen meandered in the background the entire time, plucking leaves from trees, humming to himself, occasionally offering a pointer.

  All that without ever looking at him.

  And somehow, always, he had a barrier ready the moment David was about to hurt himself. David even felt inclined to check the back of his hood for additional eyes.

  Didn’t find them.

  Having done so much training without having to stop to tend to his wounds taught him two things.

  His internal mana reserves were quite large and using that was the best, but it still ran out all too quickly.

  On the other hand, ambient mana was practically unlimited, but drawing it in was incredibly tiring.

  By noon, David was sweating, breathing hard, but smiling. Having a tutor is the best.