"Hello, Princess."

Sam's voice was smooth and soft. On a more handsome face, it would've been soothing, almost sensual. On him, it was not. This was not because he was not handsome, as much as Elaswit hated to admit it, Sam was actually quite handsome, all those summoned from another world by her father were handsome and beautiful even if to varying degrees.

The disgust she felt from Sam's voice was less about him being handsome and more about her knowing that at the core of his soul he was nothing but rotting. It made a voice that should've been sensual sound disgusting. It slithered over her skin and licked terribly at her ears.

Elaswit sighed and raised a hand to the guard still standing by her side.

"Leave us," she instructed.

The man hesitated. He had greying beards that placed him somewhere close to his fifties. If his beards were already greying, then it meant that he had either come terribly close to his fifties without hitting level fifty or he surpassed the level fifty threshold just as he approached that age.

Immortality was unheard of on Nastild, but there were those that were known to be long lived. Those who surpassed the threshold of level fifty had a chance at a longer life than those who never did. At level fifty, humans aged slower, significantly so. At level one hundred, aging slowed even further. According to rumors—as Elaswit had no living confirmation—at level two hundred, you didn't even feel the need for food or water.

"Are you sure princess?" the aging guard asked, hand still at his belt as if he expected Sam to somehow escape his chains and lunge at her.

Elaswit held out her hand. The air refracted, shifting lights flickering as if bouncing off shards of glass. The phenomenon spread, stretching out until it was as long as a person was tall. When the refraction was done, Elaswit held her cleaver in her hand.

She stabbed it into the ground beside her. "I'm certain."

With a gentle bow, the guard took his leave, giving her and Sam the solitude they required.

Alone with her, Sam gave her a warm smile.

"You know," he said. "I have come to understand that you are not at fault in this. Neither is your father, nor your mother."

Elaswit gave him no reaction. All she did was wait. This was not her first time visiting him in the past month, and it would not be her last. Each time she visited him, he always had something to say before the main purpose of her visit was addressed. Each time, she allowed him to speak. She had long since learned from her mother that if you had a mind as strong as steel and an understanding as great as a dragon's you would gain more from listening to the maddened speak than the wise would gain from listening to an ancient dragon speak.

"Aiden did not return, did he?" Sam went on. "He hasn't, and he will not. I refuse to believe that you do not know this. It is a truth unbecoming of most truths."

Elaswit couldn't help but take a momentary glance at the cells behind her. Leaving her cleaver where she had placed it, she walked up to Sam and squatted in front of him.

"You're beginning to speak like one of us," she pointed out. "So formal, so… elitist. Have you forgotten your own pattern of speech?" She glanced back again, intentionally, letting him know that she was looking at the other prisoners in their cells. "Perhaps you have been listening to the worst of us, the most pretentious of us." She cocked her head mockingly to the side. "The first time I came here, you accused Aiden of being pompous and pretentious for speaking in this exact same manner. What does that say of you now?"

She had hoped to make him feel bad, to annoy him. She had failed.

Sam gave her a toothy grin. "Aiden was a snake in green grass. I, on the other hand, am what you have made me."

Sighing, she nodded. "Perhaps. But it also means that you were weak. You broke in only one month."

"One month." Sam breathed out softly. His eyes drifted from her to his cell walls. "Has it only been a month? So long, yet so short. Forgive me, princess. It's always so… dark in here. It makes it difficult to tell the day from the night. A month is long, but I had guessed that it would've been two."

Elaswit frowned for the briefest moment before catching herself and schooling her expression. This prison was not designed to break a person's body—it was meant to break their mind. It deprived them of all the things they knew were natural and forced their brains to readapt. Most minds broke under the weight of it.

Sam, however, seemed to evolve in it. He did not get smarter or sharper. Nothing of the sort. His mind, however, just seemed to solidify into itself. It seemed to steel itself. Every time Elaswit came here, he grew more self aware.

"Alright then." Sam regained his composure and met her gaze. "Tell me what has become of my friends, Princess."

Elaswit hated this and, for the life of her, could not understand why her father had decided that it had to be done. In his verdict on Sam's punishment, he had declared that Sam would receive only the scantiest update on his companions once every few days. The decree was designed to give him some modicum of connection to his world until the day they would send him back.

In Elaswit's opinion, for all the crimes that he had committed, Sam deserved to die. A [Time Walker] had been sent out to examine Lady Anita Rogers' body not long after they'd left Elstrire. The investigator had confirmed that Sam had fed the girl a potion that had fused her to a tree. The details had been gory and painful.

Elaswit had had nightmares that night.

The same investigator had gone out of his way to investigate the death in the building—the massacre that Aiden had wrought. Interestingly enough, he had mentioned Sam's presence in the office of the town chief as well, but not what he was doing there. As for the cannibalism of the town, that had been easy to prove as well.

"There is nothing you can tell me of Aiden," Sam said simply, "so tell me of the others. How is my good friend, Drax?"

Drax was currently at level forty-one. He was growing stronger in his [Knight] class and, by her father's estimation, was the most likely of all the summoned for the [Hero] title. It was in the way he carried himself, the way he lived by a code of conduct that was unflinching. To him, evil was evil, undoubted and unquestioned.

There was no justification for it.

"Drax grows stronger by the day," she answered simply.

"What level has he reached in the past month?" Sam asked, his voice growing slightly husky and dry.

"That," Elaswit said, very deliberately, "is not your concern."

Sam snapped suddenly. His face reached out for Elaswit's, stopping just short of hers. "Your father promised me updates," he snarled. "He promised that I would know what has become of my friends."

Elaswit was proud to say that she hadn't flinched in his sudden burst of emotion.

"He promised that," she said. "And I have always delivered."

"By not telling me what I need to know?" Sam looked into her eyes. "Diabolical little wench, you are. Keeping secrets and hiding truths. Seeking loopholes and breaking truths."

He's losing his mind, Elaswit thought. His mind is stronger, but he grows madder every day.

She could not truly say that it was a sign of weakness. She would lose her mind too if she was kept in such a situation. Sam was the youngest person in the prison. The second youngest after him was twenty-nine years old.

That he had lasted this long without pleading or begging was a testament to his strength of will.

"Sam," she said, meeting his gaze undaunted, "I have brought you the information promised to you as I have done every other time. My father did not promise to give you the information you need, simply an update on the state of the others. Your update on Drax is that he is fine and alive, and grows stronger every day. You may ask your next question."

This was the reason Elaswit had opted to be the one to bring Sam the updates. On one hand, it kept her abreast of what all the summoned were currently capable of. On the other hand, it made sure that she was in the perfect position to give Sam information that he could not use.

Sam frowned but did not argue the case. "How is Letto, our little [Rogue]?"

"Quieter and stronger."

When she added nothing more to it, Sam frowned again.

Letto's growing silence was a problem in the group that he was a part of. From the little pieces of knowledge she had gathered from the group, Letto had been something of a talkative before the incident at Elstrire.

He had been quick to cheer people up with a joke or two and a smile or two. Drax said that it was how he had been in their world. Now, however, Letto only spoke when spoken to or when it was necessary. He drowned himself in his class as a [Rogue] and was growing at a rate faster than most [Rogues] were known to grow.

"Ariadne," Sam said simply.

That he had the audacity to ask of a girl after what he had done to Anita sickened Elaswit. But her father had given his word and she was here to bend it as far as she could.

"Stronger," she said. "Arguably the second strongest in the group."

Sam smiled as if the information pleased him. "And what is her class again?"

The answer to that was easy. Elaswit gave it with a smile. "None of your business."

In the same manner, Sam asked of everyone else. The summoned who had formed a second group before being merged with Drax's group. He knew them by name even though he had not spent that much time with them And as before, Elaswit answered in the same way. Everyone was growing stronger.

Still, it never escaped her notice that even after an entire month of hunting, the strongest of them had only just touched level forty-eight. It was an unprecedented growth. On Nastild, such a person would be called a genius for growing as powerful as level forty-eight in two months.

When you compared the growth to Aiden Lacheart, however, it felt gravely insufficient. Aiden had reached level forty-nine in a month and fought with skills capable of rivaling a knight's. She still remembered what he'd done to Derendoff on that fateful night.

He did not fight like a boy. Even if the others ever managed to grow to the same level as Aiden, she doubted any of them would possess the skills required to beat him in a fight. Aiden was simply different from the rest of them.

Just how far have you grown? She wondered as she got back up to her feet, standing tall. What have you become capable of?

By now, she had no doubt that Aiden would be drawing closer to level one hundred. Her mother was also of the same opinion. That was assuming level fifty had not tied him down the way it did to the best of a lot of people.

"Every time I come here, I am disgusted," she said as she turned and walked over to her cleaver. "Disgusted that I have to spend time with a murderer like you and bring you news I do not believe that you deserve to hear."

She wrapped her hand around the hilt of her cleaver very carefully and looked at Sam. Fear touched his features for a moment before he controlled it. Thinking better of it, she released her weapon.

"No," she said simply. "I will not be using a weapon today. I will be giving you a fighting chance."

"A fighting chance?" Sam scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself. You try to make yourself look civil when all that you are is barbaric."

He rose to his feet, still held back by his chains and met her gaze.

"You bring me the most useless pieces of information and call it a favor," he spat. "Then you beat me up and call it training."

Elaswit shrugged. "It is training, depending on how you look at it."

She walked back up to him, making sure to keep her eyes on him. When she stood before him once more, she reached forward and undid one of his chains.

"I do not have to remind you that the guards are under orders to take a limb on sight if you ever venture beyond your cell bars, do I?" she asked with a smile.

"I won't run," he assured her. "You know that, and so do I."

Not for the first time, Sam misunderstood her. Elaswit wanted him to run. She wanted him to lose a limb.

But it didn't matter.

Stepping back, she watched him massage his sore wrists where there had once been iron clasps. After a while, he held up his hands in a combat stance and let out a sigh.

"Beat me up and let's be done with this," he muttered.

"I'm not beating you up, Sam," she said not for the first time in the past month. "I'm training you."

When she moved, she was too fast for him to follow. She ducked under his raised hands and drove her fist into his solar plexus with all the strength she could muster.

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Sam doubled over, folding around her fist as he dropped. Saliva dripped from parted lips and his eyes were held wide in pain and terror.

Elaswit stepped away from him. "Lesson one, always anticipate that your opponent will be faster than you."

Sam looked up at her with defiance in his eyes. "I'm going to kill you one day, Princess. You can bet your life on it."

Elaswit met his gaze without expression.

"Lesson number two," she said calmly. "Do not goad an enemy you cannot beat."

She kicked him in the face. She felt his jaw crack under the force of the blow and knew she had drawn blood as he was thrown to the side.

Sam was right about one thing. There was nothing humane about what she was doing to him.

But there was nothing humane about what he had done to others either.

…

The journey to the edge of Bandiv had taken three days on jepat-back. Unlike his journey to Elstrire, the jepats were not spelled and they had not pushed them beyond their limits. They hadn't even pushed them to their limits.

They'd allowed the jepats to jog when they had to, allowed them to stroll when they had to, and had pushed them to run when they had to. Occasionally, they rested whenever they had to. They never traveled at night, resting and falling into the gentle embrace of slumber.

At night, they took turns staying up at night, each person keeping watch. Aiden was always the second to keep watch, just after Valdan. Three hours each person—that was the agreement. It allowed them at least six hours of sleep in total. Whenever they turned in very late, which was most nights, they altered the time to two hours a person.

Every night, Aiden had to listen to Ted's minute complaints of their sleeping quarters because he never allowed them to sleep in inns or towns or on solid beds. It was always some forest or the other where nature watched over them as both protector and predator.

Valdan took the first watch, always. It was his insistence as a knight. Every night, he would sit on the grass. His sword unsheathed, he would hold it up, resting its hilt upon his shoulder as he seemed to cradle the weapon. There he would stay, eyes forward but always aware of everything around him. He would be an unmoving mountain. A protector. A knight.

Aiden would always take the second watch because Valdan took the first watch. It was in the nature of the knight to push past his two or three hours to watch for as long as he could. Aiden never allowed that. Once it was time to switch, he would rise from his bed like the undead arisen and tap Valdan on the shoulder.

Once, Valdan had given him the option of sleeping a little longer. Once, Aiden had refused the offer. Valdan had never offered again.

As for Ted, sometimes he woke up early enough for his switch, sometimes he did not. It was by no fault of his. Aiden had stood watch with a groups of people enough times to know that even amongst the most trained mercenaries, it was often normal for someone to sleep a little too long. It was everyone's job to take note of how long they were up and wake those who were meant to replace them.

Aiden never woke Ted up. He allowed his brother sleep for as long as he wished and allowed him wake up whenever he did. In truth, it was the reason Aiden chose to take the watch immediately after Valdan. While it prevented Valdan from staying awake for too long, it helped Ted get as much sleep as his body wanted.

The arrangement allowed everyone to get their six hours of sleep. In truth, Aiden barely ever slept for more than two hours.

Some nights, Aiden barely slept.

They strode into the border town of Bandiv on the third day. The sun was dwindling, dying into the horizon as evening dipped a little lower in subservience to the rising night. Their jepats were clearly tired and weary from their travels. It showed in the way they walked when they were allowed to stroll. Their feet slapped against the ground loudly, their necks drooped a little, and their eyes weren't so alert to every individual they passed by.

"Still don't know why we had to sleep in the forest each time," Ted grumbled. "Tell me we get a bed tonight."

"We get a bed tonight, brother," Aiden replied absently, eyes taking in the entirety of the border town.

Unlike most towns they had been in, the border town was significantly different. For one, Aiden noticed the complete absence of any residential building. Riding into the border town was like riding into a port or a harbor. All there was to see were shops and inns and taverns.

As far as the eyes could see there was someone selling something. Apothecaries clustered together like intentional hubs, as if to say 'if you want anything poisonous enough, look this way.' The markets in charge of simple food like bread and seasoned meat and processed grains were also a hub of their own. It was loud with the haggled back and forth of buyers and sellers.

As for the road beneath their feet, it was all sand. Packed together and beaten down by travelers as it was, every step barely raised any cloud of dust. It was as if the sand had somehow naturally tarred itself into something of a road.

"Inns," Ted pointed while Aiden continued to take the town in. "And they're all together, too. Easy access." He gave Valdan a bright smile. "We get to pick. And Aida gets to pay."

That was enough to draw Aiden's attention. "I paid for the last inn we slept in."

"I drank a milkshake," Ted said with a bitter glare. "You're paying for this inn, then Valdan's paying for the next."

"Even if it's your turn?" Aiden asked carefully.

Ted cocked a brow at him. "Are you going to fight me on this?"

Aiden shrugged, letting the matter lie. It was a small price to pay for the milkshake, if he was being honest.

Again, he turned his attention to their surroundings, picking out each passerby. There was a very limited number of children here. Since riding in, Aiden had only counted fifteen children in all, meanwhile the adults were as countless as the sands on a seashore.

"Should we try the Harrowbeard?" Valdan asked, looking in the direction of the inns.

"Names are unimportant," Ted replied. "What I want is a spacious room with a comfortable bed. Anything else matters very little to me."

Aiden nodded absently, only half-following their conversation.

"Just get somewhere comfortable, Teddy," he offered. "You'll need to start working on your manifesting skill. Hopefully, between here, Dentis and Trackback, you should have it."

"Isn't that just a handful of weeks?" Valdan asked, surprised. "You have shown more talent than your brother yet you have been stuck for an entire month. How do you have such easy faith in your brother?"

The answer to that was simple. It was because the [Demon King] in his past life had proven himself to be vastly talented. He was sure Ted could make it happen in the limited time.

"I've lived with him long enough to know that he's got it," Aiden answered. "Ted can be annoyingly talented when it matters."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Ted said with a chuckle. "Now, all you have to do is focus it on girls and your love life would not be so abysmal."

"I like how you just ignored the 'annoying' part with a hop and a skip, brother," Aiden said dryly. "Just start with some meditation."

"Like a Buddhist monk?"

Aiden sighed. "Just lie down and think about it, Teddy. Think about the skills you have now and how good they could be together or what you need to make all of them work best in any situation."

Valdan looked at him, flabbergasted. "You believe in your brother so much that you think he can just will himself into level fifty?"

"He's starting with meditation," Aiden clarified. "Once he's done thinking about it, then he can move on to working for it. Though I can't say I'll be surprised if he willed himself into it."

Valdan looked confused and flabbergasted for a long moment. "Is Lord Lacheart stronger than you, Aiden?"

"Yes," Aiden answered without missing a beat. "I throw myself into all the dangerous situations to get to where I am. He doesn't need to. Still, he throws himself into any challenge that comes his way. I just go looking for mine."

Aiden saw doubt in Valdan's face but couldn't be bothered to address it. Ted had always been that way. In his past life and during their time on earth. Ted was the talented brother. If he picked up a sport, he took to it very instinctively. When he found something interesting, he learnt it as if he'd always known how to do it.

People talked about how jacks of all trades were masters of none. The saying did not apply to Ted. He was the annoying jack of all trade that seemed to master all their trades. On the downside, it was the reason Ted hadn't been the top of his class. He always procrastinated on things like reading because he was of the opinion that he could do them anytime. Then he woke up on the morning of his exams with a hangover and wrote his papers without studying.

How he always passed always left Aiden slightly discombobulated until he learnt to accept that Ted was just… Ted.

As for Aiden's own manifesting skill… Well, he was the reason he didn't have one, if he was being honest. He hadn't really implemented an actual plan to get one. One of the things about manifesting skills was picking the right place to gain it. Some people simply willed their manifesting skill into existence, somehow choosing what would work best for them, others had to do the actual hard work.

The problem with doing the actual hard work was that it left room for errors. For instance, if you gained your manifesting skill in a non-combat situation, there was a chance that you would be doomed to a manifesting skill that wasn't optimal for combat situations. If you manifested it when fighting a single powerful opponent, there was a chance you were going to find yourself with a manifesting skill primed to take down a single powerful foe. Such a manifesting skill was not optimal for crowd control.

And if you found yourself gaining one while fighting a group of people, it was possible to be left with a manifesting skill not fit for fighting a group of animals. Aiden knew this because, in his past life, his manifesting skill had been gained in combat and under heavy pressure.

Also, he had been an instructor who had devised enough plans for enough students that had led them into their manifesting skills.

The problem with this, however, was that it made him very picky. You did not simply go for acceptable when you had spent many years crafting plans and scenarios that had helped to give others the best.

When you have given others the best so many times, you couldn't settle for anything less than the best for yourself, unless you did not truly care about the subject matter.

Aiden spotted who he was looking for at the same time he spotted a familiar face. Without wasting any time, he pointed in the direction of the familiar face.

"There," he said, pointing at Fjord, who was seated at a store staring at the entrance. The boy had seen them long before Aiden had seen him.

"It's like he was waiting for us," Ted noted. "You've certainly got yourself a loyal page."

"I would agree," Valdan said.

"You guys take him to the Harrowbeard and I'll join you shortly," he instructed them as he handed the reins of his jepat over to Valdan and dismounted.

"You have spotted your contact, haven't you," Valdan said, displeased.

"Somethings are necessary, Valdan," Aiden answered. "Whether we like it or not. Now go. I'll meet you guys there."

Valdan looked at Ted before pushing their jepats along. "And this does not worry you?"

"Aida's always had a way of handling himself," Ted replied with a shrug. "I've learned to trust that he knows what he's doing."

Aiden walked off into a crowd in the direction of a woman who was seated on a bench. She looked as if she was waiting for someone.

Fjord's eyes widened in confusion when he noticed that Aiden wasn't heading in his direction. Meeting the boy's gaze, Aiden pointed at him, then at Valdan emphatically. Fjord got the message because he got up from where he was and made his way to Valdan and Ted.

As for Aiden, he gently took his place beside the woman. Sitting down casually, he looked up at the evening sky.

Valdan looked back at him, taking the woman in. He was clearly committing her to memory.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked, a little worried.

"My apologies," Aiden replied kindly. "Is this seat taken?"

"No, but I am waiting for someone."

The lady was young, maybe in her late twenties. With freckles under her eyes and long, full copper hair on her head, she had the kind of face that you would always be happy to wake up to every morning.

She wore a simple green gown that made it difficult to ignore the size of her bosom and had a decorative flower in her hair. Whoever she was meeting seemed to be a romantic pursuit.

Aiden's boyish smile came easily. There was just something about sitting next to a lady whose beauty looked simple and natural.

"How would you like to make a silver coin?" he asked, doing his best to maintain eye contact with her brown eyes.

The lady took one look at him, then looked down at her breasts. Aiden kept his eyes forward and his boyish smile innocent.

"Contrary to how I'm dressed and the size of my breasts, I am not a whore, kid," she said with some venom in her voice.

"First, I am not a kid." Aiden hadn't stopped smiling. "Second, I've seen whores. You're not dressed like one. And third, I never assumed you were one."

He took a quick glance in the direction of Valdan, Ted and Fjord. All three of them occasionally looked back at him and the lady with each step they took.

"Then how am I making this silver coin?" the lady asked, finally taking in his attire. The green coat always made him look more sophisticated than he was.

Aiden liked it. In the proper setting, everyone mistook him for a young lord.

"All you have to do is tell me your name, what you're doing in this part of Bandiv and your dreams and aspirations," Aiden answered simply. "In summary, tell me who you are. Keep a bored child company on this bench until the person you are waiting for arrives."

"I thought you just said that you were not a child?" she asked with a teasing look.

Aiden shrugged. "I'm a child when I have to be." Holding his hand out, he offered her a handshake. "Ted Rogers."

The lady hesitated before shaking it. "Jelemi of Telor."

"Nice to meet you," Aiden said, shaking her hand once before releasing it.

"So, Ted," Jelemi said with a smile. "What's in this for you? Are you just some young lord with too much money on his hand."

Aiden chuckled lightly. "Not at all. Just a person that likes stories."

"You could always meet an adventurer. They have the best experiences."

"Really?" Aiden gave her something of a half-smile. "I've had my fair share of adventurers and mercenaries, dear. I've grown to learn that the beauty of life can be found in the simpler things. A story from a young lady with a piece of the forest in her beautiful hair and the color of oak in her eyes would always be more interesting than a man who fought off ten centipedes with nothing but his wit and bludgeoning club."

Jelemi blushed slightly. It gave her freckles something of a new color. Aiden couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked.

"What?" she asked, smiling. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I would say that the answer isn't very innocent."

Jelemi shifted a little closer with a twinkle in her eye. "Tell this young lady with a piece of the forest in her beautiful hair this not so innocent answer."

Aiden smiled softly. "I'm looking at you like this because you're beautiful, Jelemi of Telor."

"And you are quite forward." Jelemi's blush grew a deep crimson.

"Let me keep you company until I'm forced to leave," Aiden said simply. "Allow me the simple honor, Jelemi. It will help time pass until your second arrives."

Jelemi took a moment to think about it before finally agreeing with a smile. "Alright, Ted Rogers. If I enjoy your company, who knows, maybe it might be worth all the silver in the world."

Jelemi of Telor seemed like a nice companion to have a chat with.

In the distance, Valdan looked back once more with a puzzled look. Aiden didn't blame him. He could only imagine what kinds of secrets Aiden was sharing with such a beautiful woman.

"How about we start with what a girl like you is doing in a place like this."

"As is the case with all young and naïve girls," Jelemi said, "it all begins with a man and a promise he couldn't keep…"

Aiden listened to Jelemi speak of her life, while Valdan no doubt thought up shared secrets, spy organizations, and multiple conspiracies.

Hopefully, he would have Jelemi's company for about fifteen minutes. It was just enough time to sell his ruse before he joined the others at Harrowbeard.

Ten minutes into the most lovely conversation he'd had with a beautiful woman since coming back in time, Aiden caught sight of something that made his blood freeze and his hair stand on edge.

"Are you alright, Lord Rogers?" Jelemi asked, visibly worried. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Not a ghost, Aiden thought as he stared ahead. Something worse.

In the distance, standing in front of a store, was a woman. She had hair of the brightest pink. Bright grey eyes glowed subtly behind round glasses with wooden frames of the sharpest brown. She wore a bright blue cloak, where she had worn a yellow one the last time he'd seen her. It was equally as bright as her hair.

Aiden knew for a fact that there were at least eight enchantments woven into the cloak. There were definitely a series of spells on it, too.

Another enthralling aspect of the lady was the staff she held in one hand. She walked with it, stamping it on the ground with each step as if she needed it, despite how young she looked. It was a straight staff, made of what Aiden believed was an elder tree. At its peak, it spread out into a weaving of roots with a deep blue orb at its center. Staring at the orb was like staring at the constellations if they moved.

With a staff like that, she had a mana storage that could be arguably up to that of two men. The problem was that it was only used to cast really powerful spells.

The last thing Aiden had expected to run into out here in the border town was one of the Mage Radiants. Worse, this specific [Mage].

How had he dodged Estabel of the Mage Radiants at the Naranoff estate only to run into her here?

"My deepest apologies," he said to Jelemi, truly meaning it as he slowly rose to his feet. "But I have seen a face I would rather not meet."

Slipping his hand into one of his pockets he presented her with a silver coin. "For your time and worries. If we ever do meet again, tell me more about this bakery you wish to open. It has sparked a curiosity for the future in me."

Looking puzzled, she took the coin. "Was it something I said, Lord Rogers."

"Not at all." Aiden was moving around the chair. "Merely someone I've seen."

Before Jelemi could say more, he was already walking away.

Three steps in, Aiden froze.

"Found you."

The words touched his ears as if they had been spoken by a woman standing right next to him. Aiden looked back very slowly and found Estabel staring at him. The orb of her staff glowed gently and she had an excited smile on her face.

She spoke again, moving her lips, and the words slithered across the distance to speak into his ears.

"It's been a while, Lord Lacheart," it said. "Wouldn't you—"

Her words cut short and her eyes widened in shock at Aiden's reaction to them.

Aiden turned and bolted into the crowd.

This was the worst time to get into any entanglement with a Mage Radiant.

Why the hell do bad things keep happening to me?

"What the hell?!"

Again, the voice echoed in his ears. Aiden turned to look behind him as he dodged a man in his sprint.

The sight he met was terrifying.

With one hand holding up her cloak and another tightly wrapped around her staff, Estabel was giving chase.

And she was inhumanly fast. Faster than a [Mage] had any right to be.

Run, Aiden, he thought in horror. Run.

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