"Will it be as impressive as the spatial storage?" Cyrus asked, his excitement palpable.

It was hard to describe just how incredible it felt to possess such an item. With the spatial storage pouch, Cyrus could carry a substantial amount of vital equipment and food and, more importantly, keep his camera safe from both natural and destructive elements. How could they top this?

Yet, Dílis shook her head, still brimming with excitement as she settled on Cyrus' bed.

"Nothing quite as impressive as that, but you'll receive a set of Wayfarer's outfits explicitly tailored for you."

Not exactly what I had in mind, Cyrus thought, but he maintained his smile. "Thank you. I'll be out there on an expedition soon enough."

Dílis nodded with a smile that abruptly shifted into a pondering frown. "Ah, I almost forgot." She sat up ramrod straight and professional. "Cyrus, I haven't had the chance to tell you yet, but I'm leaving for three months."

Now, that took Cyrus by surprise.

"You're leaving? Where to?"

"My team has been ordered to survey an abandoned city a half-week's travel away." She furrowed her brows and rubbed her chin. "Mellor, was it?"

Cyrus quickly seated himself beside her, firing off questions one after another.

"How old is the city? Are you searching for something specific? Was it once part of an ancient civilization? Is it still intact? Has anyone explored it before? Do we know anything about its history or culture? Are there any books or records about it? Do you think—"

You have to be kidding. This was something unknown! And Cyrus had to know more. Meanwhile, the half-elf attempted to answer the first question but was soon stifled into silence by the bombardment. More and more questions popped up, to which Dílis smiled.

"You sound like a natural-born Wayfarer." The young woman giggled.

"What can I say?" A genuine smile spread across Cyrus' face. "It's like they were made for someone like me."

But the irony wasn't lost on him. Just yesterday, her father told Cyrus he wasn't cut out to be a Wayfarer.

"If you enjoy it, then it doesn't feel like a job, right?" Dílis remarked as she rose from her seat, stretching her limbs. "I don't have any specific information on Mellor, but it's not my task to delve into its history. Team Breeze is heading there to scout and ensure it hasn't turned into a den for monsters or wraiths."

Then, her gaze glistened with excitement as if struck by a brilliant idea.

"Would you like to meet my team?" she asked, quickly turning to him. "There's going to be a group up and mission debrief soon."

"Meet them?" Cyrus muttered, rubbing his chin while struggling to recall the names he had heard a few weeks ago.

In truth, Cyrus barely gave a thought to Dílis' companions. They were strangers, and he had more important things to do. But he knew that expressing interest in them would fit the role he was going for.

"Blake Morgan, Atlas, and Anari, right?" He asked. "But isn't Atlas stationed in another city? And what about the others?"

She deflated momentarily at his mention but quickly regained her composure. "Atlas should be returning soon, I'm sure of it. And Morgan and Anari have been back for the past two weeks.

Cyrus was taken aback. "They have? Well, why hadn't you mentioned this earlier?"

There was a pause between them. Dílis hesitated, her voice soft. "I, uh, you've been keeping to yourself, and I didn't want to intrude."

Right. Fair enough. Cyrus sighed. Now was better than never to apologize, even if he couldn't tell the exact truth.

"I'm sorry, Lilie," Cyrus began, allowing himself to emulate his true feelings. "It's just that... night was overwhelming. And I felt suffocated for the longest time after taking someone's life."

Concern creased Dílis' brow as she hesitated. Her hand was poised to comfort Cyrus, but she withdrew at the last moment.

"I can't imagine what you're going through, but I'm here if you ever need to talk." She breathed deeply and looked into his gaze. "You're not alone. Okay, Cyrus?"

Her genuine concern only deepened Cyrus' sense of guilt, small as it was. She had no hidden agenda in offering her support and had no reason to do so.

"You're right, and I appreciate it." Cyrus tentatively smiled at her. "Thank you."

Dílis waved off his gratitude with a dismissive gesture.

"It's nothing," she insisted, but her smile returned as she stepped closer, her enthusiasm evident. "Anyways, how about joining me tomorrow to meet my team? It'll be fun!"

"Count me in. When will we be leaving?"

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And thus, their conversation ended after a few more minutes of ironing out the details. They were to meet at the Wayfarer's Headquarters for some live fire training before debrief.

Once left alone to his devices, Cyrus continued his routine. He practiced his flame control and tested his new strengthening technique before burying himself in his studies. There was so much to do with so little time in a single day. But it was of no matter. Cyrus continued until the skies darkened. Only when the shadows grew deeper and darker did he take a break and consider his spatial pouch.

My camera, equipment—everything must always be with me. Cyrus' gaze narrowed as he leaned on his chair. Especially my spear...

Now was the time to be more cautious than ever. Anyone could be a member of the Theatrum Umbrea, and he'd do well to prepare for when they would strike. Never again will he allow himself to fall under the guise of another.

Yet, simultaneously, Cyrus would need to avoid drawing attention from the pouch itself, which would undoubtedly be priceless to others. He could imagine it now: Him, out in some ruins with some group who caught wind of his special pouch. They would then plan a betrayal, which would probably result in his death.

So, after considering his options, Cyrus opted to keep his survival gear and spear in a travel pack. That way, he would have an excuse should he ever need to pull something out of nowhere and avoid drawing attention to himself by looking like any ordinary Wayfarer or traveler. It was all about blending in with the others. To appear normal.

"Maybe I should get another spear?" Cyrus wondered as he stowed his equipment. "It could come in handy..."

Chirp!

Cyrus turned to the window. There came Bird with the flutter of his wings. It flew through the window and landed in its water bowl, where it began bathing. Bitterly smiling, Cyrus regarded the little canary as it washed its snow-white feathers.

Click

"You're supposed to be my companion," he complained, putting down his camera. "But you keep flying out all day, every day. How are we supposed to spend time together if you're always off on your own?"

Bird was supposed to be his mana fluctuation sensor. But what would happen if the canary just flew off at the first sign of trouble? The said bird stopped rubbing itself and stared silently at him with those beady eyes... only to return to its cleaning.

Cyrus rolled his eyes. "Would you like to hear another story?"

Now, that caught its attention. Bird stopped and faced him, silently waiting.

"Now, hold up." Cyrus gestured placatingly. "Allow me to finish allocating rune slots, Your Royal Highness."

He then disregarded the crying Bird and began creating more runes. And Cyrus couldn't believe it. At his current rate, becoming a pyro apprentice would take twelve days. Who knew what changes it would bring? And beyond was his light domain. Once Cyrus was outside Avalorn's walls, he would go all out and feed his light domain.

I thought photomancy would be useless for now, but... Cyrus paused. He vaguely remembered how a simple flash of light utterly nullified her umbrakinesis. Cyrus sighed and squashed the thought. She was gone, but he was still here.

And there was still much to be done.

The next day unfolded like any other. But it diverted as Cyrus and Dílis took a coach ride to the city's edge. Soon, the wheel clattering against stone slowed to a crawl once the Wayfarer's headquarters loomed with its vast, desolate plaza.

As Lilie prepared to disembark, her expression strained, and her brows furrowed as she held Cyrus' sleeve to stop him.

"Your identity is still a secret," she began, disappointment evident in her voice. "So you must maintain your cover, even if they are my closest friends." She paused. "If they ever become suspicious, just tell them that you're one of the fog folk and to run it by me."

"No problem, I won't say a word." Cyrus said, offering a placating smile.

Why would he ever tell them the truth in the first place?

"Good." With a pat on her cheeks, Dílis psyched herself up. "Okay, I'm just introducing Cyrus to my friends. Everything is going to be fine."

So off they went. A minute later, the two entered the lobby. And it felt just as desolate as the first time Cyrus visited. The lobby was still sparse with lingering Wayfarers who kept to themselves or in groups. And, of course, the canaries were flying about.

Meanwhile, Dílis ignored all of this. She scanned the room, searching for her target. There. Her gaze brightened, and that all-too-familiar smile bloomed across her face.

"Morgan!"

Blake Morgan. Clad in green slacks and a black formal shirt, he stood before a group of Wayfarers, laughing with a lively yet deep voice. His pale complexion was a dime a dozen in Avalorn, but there would be no doubt he would catch anyone's attention.

A long and fiery-red mane ran down past his shoulders. And once he turned to Dílis' call, Cyrus took note of Blake's sharp and hazel gaze and the speckles of brown freckles around his oval face.

"Lilie." A warm smile graced his lips as Blake stretched his arms wide. "And what are you still standing there for? Come here and hug me."

Dílis ran over to him and hugged him like a long-lost friend, even forcing Blake back a few steps by the force of her enthusiasm.

Of course, the idle Wayfarers watched the scene. Who didn't like a little gossip? But once they noticed it was those two again, they quickly grew bored and went back to their business.

"Seems like you're making a habit of making me feel special," Blake said with a chuckle, reciprocating the hug. "It's only been a few days since we last met, yet you're so happy to see me."

Blake's gaze then flickered with a hint of curiosity onto Cyrus, who was in tow of Dílis. The man offered a sunny smile before squeezing the air out of Dílis as he lifted her via a bear hug.

"Don't do that!" Dílis gasped and playfully smacked at him until she was dropped down. "And who says you're special? Not me." A playful Dílis harrumphed and pushed Blake back. Once the two had settled, Dílis then gestured toward Cyrus with a smile. "This is Wade Cyrus, our newest Wayfarer initiate."

Blake flashed Cyrus another sunny smile. "Clear skies, Cyrus. I'm Blake Morgan, but you can call me Morgan." Instead of the customary hand gesture over the heart, he extended his hand for a handshake. "It's about time we have a new family member."

"Clear skies, Morgan," he said, shaking his hand while holding back his cringe. "And call me Cyrus. I'm glad to be apart of the group."

Blake's handshake was firm and tight, but it wasn't a show of dominance but genuine respect, which mirrored his personality. Once they released their handshake, Blake smiled sheepishly at Dílis.

"So, Team Leader has already started." He glanced toward the doors that led deeper into the building. "She's at the gun range waiting for us."

"Always moving on without us," Dílis complained, gesturing for the two to follow her. "Come on. Let's go find her."

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