The next day, Aren and Mar’tei once again found themselves in Crina’s room. Setting aside his research on the band, Aren focused fully on designing a proper filter formation for accessing the world’s memory. He wanted to locate each event easily, simply by providing a date and place. The challenge lay in translating his understanding of time into something mana could respond to.

  What he called the will of the world understood where things were in relation to the ley lines, and it could be prompted for specific resonance that had occurred in a given area. Conceptualizing time for the will of the world, however, felt as alien to him as he was to it. When he had first connected to the world’s will using only rudimentary filters to limit the flow of information, he had felt aware of everything that had ever passed within the small area around him, all at once. Then he lost control and the spell cut off, leaving him on the floor, bleeding from his ears and nose, his tongue bitten.

  Back then, the healers in the hospital ward had not even batted an eye, used to people conducting reckless experiments, their own staff included. He wondered if the people back at the university had begun experimenting with the entry formation he had given them. He would probably be buried in questions when he finally returned.

  While he was content to spend the day writing formations, Crina and Mar’tei looked listlessly through the window, the excitement from yesterday still high. People have been dancing in the streets since the sun reached its peak, and even from above, the constant movement of the tiny figures radiated pure energy.

  The exemplar was helping with the investigation into the criminal underground. Marie’s expertise in bringing sinners to justice was the reason she left them here for the whole day, with no major event to look forward to. That had left the young women in an even darker mood.

  Suddenly, Mar’tei stood up, staring at something with incredulity. Aren raised an eyebrow and shifted to see for himself. His eyes widened slightly when he spotted a giant humanoid bear standing in the crowd, calmly juggling balls set on fire. Bar’tik was enjoying a small audience as he made a show of himself.

  “Him… why is my brother free to enjoy the festival?” she asked, mostly to herself.

  “There is a rotation so that everyone can have time with the festival,” Donnavan said calmly.

  “And what about us?” she let out, exasperated.

  “Tomorrow the Holy Exemplar will also be busy, but on the penultimate day of the festival, she and the Luminous One will be at the palace all day. Maybe we can schedule a day off for the two of you then,” the uncertainty in the man’s voice was clear on the last part.

  “I… okay, but what about the Luminous One?” she asked, and the young woman mentioned widened her eyes.

  “The Luminous One’s safety is at stake,” Donnavan stated.

  “It may as well be her last festival, isn’t it?” Mar’tei’s voice quickened as she spoke. “Shouldn’t she be allowed to enjoy it, even if only for one day?”

  That left Donnavan troubled and unable to respond. It was true that once Crina reached the veil, it would be impossible for her to travel anywhere else.

  “It’s okay,” Crina spoke up. “Thank you, but I don’t want to cause trouble for the people guarding me.”

  “We could disguise you and send your strongest to protect you, doing it stealthily or with more disguises,” Mar’tei pressed on.

  “I don’t think that’s wise,” Crina said weakly. “I don’t want anything to happen to anyone.”

  “With my medallion, you could do it safely,” Aren said suddenly, and the room fell silent for a moment.

  The idea brightened the young woman’s ashen eyes. All eyes turned to the officer, who seemed to be considering the option.

  “But we would have difficulty following her ourselves,” the man admitted. “You said you can still tell where she is when it’s in use. You would be responsible for keeping her safe..”

  Aren shrugged. “I can do that. It seems fair that she should get some time to enjoy the festival thrown in her name. It’s not like I can do anything but theorize without being able to use magic anyway.”

  “You would?” Crina’s eyes lit up at the prospect.

  “I just said so,” Aren confirmed, and the young woman grasped his hands. He found himself staring directly into her clear ashen eyes.

  “Thank you,” she said, smiling brightly.

  “We still need to discuss this with the Holy Exemplar,” Donnavan added, trying to calm her down.

  Crina did not seem worried, but Aren was not so sure. He stayed silent, not wanting to be the jinx. Mar’tei and Crina then talked about what they wanted to see, while Aren glanced at the older man and the holy warrior, sensing their doubt about how well it would go…

  “No.” The exemplar’s voice hit the two young women like a bucket of cold water, dousing their enthusiasm.

  When the woman entered the room, Crina quickly tried to explain the idea, with Donnavan filling in the details. Marie listened calmly, and when they finished, she shot the plan down.

  “There are too many unknowns. The silence of the underground in this city only deepened once it became clear we were investigating,” she explained as the young woman deflated. “People were found dead that even the local garrison was unaware of. The least frequented streets are now completely abandoned. We don’t know what they are preparing, so we cannot take risks right now.”

  “That sounds like the streets are actually safer,” Aren said. “If they are planning something, it will most likely happen either during a planned event or after the festival. Can we even be sure they are planning to attack within the city?”

  The exemplar’s eyes hardened, producing the opposite reaction he had hoped for. “We don’t know anything. For some reason, none of my techniques can find anything. We are dealing with very dangerous people. If they discover she is out in the city, they won’t let such a chance pass.”

  “With my medallion and a little misdirection, it will be safe. Everyone here is someone you trust not to betray you, right?” Aren pressed on.

  “I don’t trust your magic enough for that,” she said firmly. “You yourself said it was an original creation, untested. We don’t know what could circumvent it.”

  “I’m confident that only very powerful people could see through it, and only if they know what to look for,” he defended his creation.

  “I’m not,” she replied, ending the conversation and turning to Crina. “I apologize, but I can’t let it happen. Once it can be done more safely, I promise we will find a way. If nothing else, I promise to ask the Prophet-King personally for anything you wish in the Dark Sanctuary.”

  “I understand,” Crina said, though her spirit was clearly not in it.

  Aren stared at her but remained silent. It was not his place to decide, and soon he was sent to train with Donnavan. Today’s training was a silent one, as his thoughts kept returning to the young woman who bore the role of the Luminous One.

  Chosen by some vision from a supposedly omniscient entity, she was forced to pilgrimage across the country, showcased like a piece of art, only to end up locked away in a place called a sanctuary with some monster.

  Then, because of politics and the young woman’s desire to do good, she had to fear for her life. He did not like it. There were enough threats from monsters, dragons, and the possibility of one of the apocalyptic beasts taking a stroll that these petty squabbles felt like an insult to what he and others who tried to make the world a better place stood for.

  “That’s enough,” Donnavan stopped him from starting another set of exercises, as his own thoughts spurred him to vent his aggression on the weights.

  Aren’s breath was heavy as sweat flowed down his back. His arms and legs hurt, and when his gaze wandered to his hands, he saw small blisters already forming. He already felt as strong as he ever had, but somehow today it did not feel as good.

  Maybe if he learned the names of the people who hired the assassins, he could cause a few heart attacks. They probably had holy defenses against things like that, though. Otherwise, the Sands’ people would not have survived conflicts with his country.

  “Do you think it’s fair that Crina is being treated like some kind of showcase animal?” Aren asked, his anger burning hot.

  “Luminous One,” the older man said sternly. Seeing that no one was around, he calmed himself. “I’m not going to judge the Holy Exemplar’s wisdom.”

  “Right,” Aren scoffed, swatting dark locks from his forehead. He would need to cut them once they left the city.

  He wandered toward the baths without waiting for the man, he would also need to get some clean clothes. Technically, he should agree with the Exemplar’s decision, since it made his job easier, but he really did not like its spirit. The risks were minimal anyway, and a little freedom before life in what was basically jail could help the young woman, even if only a little.

  Getting some clean clothes and turning a corner, he was forced to stop in his tracks. Mar’tei stood in front of him, playing with her fingers, clearly uncertain about something.

  “Can we talk?” she asked.

  He stopped in front of her and nodded. Glancing around, he saw no one else nearby and couldn’t help but wonder what this was about. His first instinct was to place a privacy barrier but he restrained himself.

  “Should we talk here?” he asked.

  “We can head to my room, it’s empty right now,” she proposed.

  He gestured for her to lead, and the two of them walked through the corridors of the temple. Outside of a few guards patrolling the pathways, it was unoccupied. Even the priests were busy with the festival, providing people with their miracles.

  The room she led him to was a mess. There were all kinds of clothes scattered about, and one bed was even fully covered in blades and whetstones. He stopped looking around after seeing a pair of undergarments, instead focusing his gaze on a neat stack of papers near one of the beds.

  “My roommates were excited for their day off,” she said dryly, creating space for him to sit by organizing the books that lay on her bed.

  He sat down and realized his clothes were still damp. He sniffed himself and winced.

  “I should have taken a bath first…” he murmured, barely audible.

  “Why?” Mar’tei asked, confused. Then a blush spread across her face. “That’s not why I invited you here. I want to discuss Crina’s situation.”

  “What? I just… stink,” Aren said, confused, not understanding what the girl meant.

  “Sorry, I jumped to conclusions. Don’t worry, I’m used to this back home,” she said quickly, sitting down. Her expression then turned serious. “Do you think we can sneak out with Crina tomorrow?”

  His eyes widened momentarily before a smile crept onto his face.

  “Using her name now?” Aren asked.

  “I think it’s too sad that they take so much from her, even her name,” Mar’tei said firmly. “I’m not going to use her title anymore.”

  Aren nodded, agreeing with the sentiment. “If you get Crina on board with this, I’m in. I’ll make sure she’s safe, and I doubt anyone will recognize her in the first place. I’m a good enchanter.”

  “You would agree so easily?” Mar’tei asked, surprise clear on her face.

  “You asked me yourself?” Aren teased, then shrugged. “I dislike this whole situation myself. Although you realize that Marie will probably be angry with you… I don’t know about me, but she could get rid of you. Lan and Wes will not appreciate this either.”

  “I…” Mar’tei hesitated. “I still want to do it. I’m sure she will not let you go, though. You are too much of a wild element for her to let you out of her sight.”

  “Well, it would ruin my cover if she had me stay and kicked you out,” Aren affirmed.

  “Then I will start on picking some clothes for disguises. Do you think they have some quick acting hair dyes?” she asked, already thinking about the plan. “She spoke of her favorite dress types, maybe I can still get one.”

  “That’s well and good, but we need to figure out a way to get her out first,” Aren interrupted her thoughts.

  “I doubt we will be able to do it while the Exemplar is here,” she theorized. “But in her quarters Donnavan and Hann will be watching all the time.”

  “When did you learn that woman’s name? She never speaks,” Aren questioned.

  “In the bath,” Mar’tei answered. “Anyway, what should we do?”

  “Sneaking Crina out will be easy with the use of my medallion that she now carries,” Aren smiled. “If she disappears from their attention and then leaves the room, it will take some time for them to realize she is gone, since most of their focus is on watching the surroundings, not her personally.”

  “Then we need a reason for us to go out,” Mar’tei said.

  “I don’t have much hope that they won’t catch on quickly,” Aren said. He doubted that even a joint bathroom excuse would work in the first place.

  “I might have an idea,” Mar’tei said, her voice lingering for a moment before she continued. “Louis approached me and told me that during the festival there’s a tradition of inviting one’s significant other to a show performed by the priests. Watching it together is supposed to bring joy to their love life. The last one is tomorrow.”

  “That may work,” Aren nodded. “They may let us go for a while, at least to that event. That may be enough time for us to disappear into the crowd.”

  “Good,” she said, smiling at him with a mischievous tone. “Thank you for this. I need to go shopping now. Buying clothes and dyes shouldn’t be suspicious.”

  Aren smiled back and got up. His thighs ached with pain as he moved, a reminder that he was still sweaty.

  “I should go clean up now,” he said, stepping toward the door.

  When he opened it, two female warriors were patrolling the area. They looked at him, at his still-sweaty face, and at Mar’tei, then winked at her before continuing on their way. His eyebrow twitched, but overall, it should add believability to their act tomorrow.

  “Right, see you tomorrow,” he said, leaving quickly for the bath. He knew the priests would heat it again soon and wanted to get there before that. Mar’tei waved as he closed the door.

  The next day came quickly. Right after morning prayer, and upon reaching the Luminous One’s quarters, Mar’tei began exchanging short letters with Crina in plain view. Anything whispered could easily be overheard by the life practitioner in the room, so this was their only way to communicate. The older man had enough tact not to intrude when the two women giggled together.

  Aren tried not to pay attention, but he ended up looking up each time a letter was passed. He wondered what they were discussing and how it pertained to their plan, but he could do nothing except pretend everything was normal by continuing to expand upon his theories. He had few new ideas but this was always going to be a long term project.

  When one letter passed, Crina’s face stilled, and she exchanged glances with Mar’tei. Then the quill moved a little faster against the paper. The next few letters took longer, and if he was feeling curious, he was quite sure the two guards in the room had to feel it too.

  Then suddenly, Crina’s face went crimson, and after another letter, Mar’tei’s face heated up as well, her eyes widening. She fidgeted for a moment, and after another exchange, she stood up and looked at Aren. The eyes in the room turned to her.

  “Aren would…” she started, hesitating for a moment before an embarrassed quiver entered her voice. “…go with me to today’s lovers’ respite.”

  He had to admit that she was a good actor. At the same time, he felt the medallion beginning to draw attention away from its user, and he smiled at how subtle its effects were. Had he not made it himself, he would have dismissed it as nothing more than normal mana fluctuations. Then he realized he was simply staring at the younger mage and smiling.

  “Yes, of course,” he said quickly, nodding his head.

  Looking at the two guards, he saw that they were staring. Even Donnavan looked a little unbalanced, despite his usual stoic expression. He needed to press the matter now so they could leave the room.

  “I heard the last one is today,” he said, looking out the window and noting that the sun’s position was nearing its peak. “Could we take a break?”

  “I think it should be fine…” There was a tint of amusement in the man’s voice, and Aren wondered if he might be the romantic type. “Just don’t… come back too late. I don’t want to explain why you aren’t here when Exemplar Marie comes back. You really should have asked her before this.”

  Mar’tei grabbed him by the arm and nodded to the older man, though even she looked embarrassed. They left through the door, lingering slightly before closing it. Outside the temple, a few guards glanced at them, but no one paid much attention.

  They headed toward the edge of the residential district, where the temple they were supposed to visit was located. After passing through a few streets, they turned into a side alley, and Mar’tei led him through a door into what looked like a clothing shop.

  A man stood inside, wearing a tight yellow-and-brown outfit embroidered with flowery patterns. His thick mustache and bald head contrasted with the warm, welcoming smile he gave them.

  “Hello, dear,” he said to Mar’tei, pure joy in his voice. “And that must be your lover. A handsome man indeed. You would look better with lighter hair tones, though.”

  “I… would?” Aren asked, surprised that the man had guessed his original look so quickly.

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  “You learn those things in my profession, handsome,” he said, winking. “Your room is ready with the thing you ordered. Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

  Mar’tei nodded. “Thank you, Master Pon. We want to do it ourselves, it’s part of the fun.”

  The man nodded. “Don’t let me interrupt, then. Just use the bell if you need me for anything.”

  They were led to a small changing room with a single partition and a hairdressing chair. There was even a basin of water in the corner. Half a dozen sets of clothing hung on the wall, and a few bottles with colorful liquids lay on the table. A wooden chest was stored in the corner.

  Mar’tei looked at him, a question in her eyes. “Is she here?”

  Aren glanced toward where the young, attention-proof woman had been and joked, “No, I thought you gave up on that and just wanted it to be the two of us. She stayed at the temple.”

  Mar’tei raised an eyebrow at him and nearly jumped when Crina became recognizable. Crina looked amused at the two of them, but her gaze quickly shifted to the dresses.

  “Those are beautiful,” she said, lifting a colorful orange one-piece sleeveless dress that reached her ankles. It flowed freely, with a cloth draped over the shoulders that wound around the neck and chest, patterned with repeating rays of light. Green, flowered vines climbed from the waist upward.

  “We should dye our hair first,” Mar’tei said. “What would you like? Maybe lavender or rose gold?”

  “Let me thank you first,” she said seriously. “I know this is a risk for you.”

  “Thank us later,” Aren smiled, scanning the vials. They were purely chemical substances, but their viscosity was quite high. “We could still get busted, though I think the risk is minimal. We’ll just have to deal with a disgruntled exemplar afterward.”

  “Don’t think about it now,” Mar’tei said, reading Crina’s expression. “Let’s enjoy ourselves with a bit of rebellious spirit. You deserve it.”

  Crina nodded weakly. “I know I shouldn’t. The One Sun gifted me with health in exchange for this duty. But… I wanted to enjoy this at least once…”

  “That’s only fair, considering where this journey will end up,” Aren said. “You don’t need to feel guilty in front of us. We’re the ones who set this up. If you don’t enjoy it, we’ll get in trouble for nothing.”

  “Thank you,” Crina said, closing her eyes. Then she opened them with a smile. “I will.”

  Aren was kicked out beyond the partition and ended up spending a long time there, overhearing the two girls as they talked while doing their hair and choosing clothes. He didn’t mind, really. He wished he could do more, like killing the blighted monster this was all about, instead of having to appease it. One day, he would be strong enough to do so and free the world from its shadow, and others like it.

  “But are you sure you don’t want to spend this day together?” Crina’s voice reached him, despite his being lost in thought.

  “We are not dating,” Aren said. It was high time to straighten this out. Louis gave them space, with Mar’tei assigning duties, but being roommates, Aren was often forced to deflect questions from the older man. “It’s just a rumor that got out of control and seemed like a good enough excuse for Ren to stay here.”

  “Indeed,” Mar’tei confirmed.

  “I guess that does make sense. You don’t really look like a couple,” Crina said, as if something had finally clicked. “Did I annoy you by forcing you to dance? Did I overstep?”

  “I enjoyed it,” Mar’tei said, accompanied by the faint sound of running water. “Dancing in your country is quite different. We tend to be more boisterous.”

  “We only need to dry it out now,” the younger mage said. “We can’t use magic, but with weather like this, it shouldn’t take long.”

  “Let me do yours now,” Crina said, and after a bit of shuffling, the two girls resumed their conversation. “Do you want to go see the flower prayers? We can also visit the craftsman district and see the artisans’ crafts.”

  “I want to dance and properly try the local stall foods,” Mar’tei said. “I finally tried some festival food I had never seen before yesterday, but I had to hurry to find this shop.”

  “Oh, you have to try the fruit lokma or the candied apple,” Crina said eagerly. “The temple’s food can be quite boring, and they rarely have desserts.”

  “I didn’t want to say anything, but it felt either spicy or dull,” Mar’tei complained.

  Such conversations continued, and Aren’s attention drifted once more. He wondered if they were spending too much time on this, but the young women seemed happy, and that was enough. There was a chance they were already being looked for. He had no idea when the two guards would notice they had forgotten their Luminous One.

  “Aren, it’s your turn now,” Mar’tei called out suddenly.

  He stepped out from beyond the partition and paused, struck by the difference he saw. Crina’s hair was now a warm rose-gold, adding vibrancy to her ashen eyes. She had chosen the orange dress but swapped the cloth around her shoulders for a bright brown one, patterned with triangles in green, orange, and blue.

  Mar’tei’s change was even more striking. Her raven braids were now pure white. The long emerald dress hugged her waist, its flowing, sheer sleeves cut with long slits. A pattern of gold-trimmed leaves repeated across her skirt, while a spiraling motif rose up her back. Her black band was slightly visible but mostly hidden beneath the sleeve.

  Both of them looked at him expectantly, and he relied on the etiquette training forced upon him at university.

  “You both look positively striking,” he began, his voice steady. “Truly, it is a rare delight to be graced by such a charming company.”

  Both of them approved of his attempt with a smile, though they clearly found his words, reserved for court, amusing. Then he noticed what they were holding, and his gaze was drawn to the bright blue-violet vial.

  “Are you going to use that on me?” he asked, confused.

  “Oh, you want a different color? This one says periwinkle,” Crina said, turning to the vials. “I thought this would suit you.”

  “Do we have to do that? We should spend the time more effectively…” Aren said.

  Instantly, the young woman’s face fell. Mar’tei looked at him with eyes that seemed to ask, ?

  He closed his eyes and shrugged. “Fine. Do your worst.”

  “It will look good, I promise!” Crina said with a reassuring gaze.

  He sat down on the chair, and they covered his shoulders with cloth marred by colorful spots. Then, using combs, they separated his hair, and he felt a cool, sticky liquid being applied.

  “What is this made of?” he asked, shuddering slightly at the sensation.

  “It’s from blooming cacti,” Crina answered. “It’s used to cure inflammation, but when boiled together with dye, it can be used to change hair color.”

  She applied a little of the liquid to a lock of hair and, with a quick move of a comb, spread it through his hair. “It dries quickly when you spread it and sticks well to the structure of the hair. When we are done, we’ll get rid of the excess with a thick brush, and it will look natural.”

  “Then when you clean your hair, it will wash off,” she finished.

  With his curiosity satisfied, he let them get on with it. It didn’t take as long as he thought, and after maybe a dozen minutes, he was free, looking at his light violet hair that reminded him of his natural eye color, only brighter.

  “Okay, now clothes,” Mar’tei said, picking up a folded set from a free chair.

  Seeing the mustard-yellow set, he glanced at his simple white clothes and guessed they would not fit a festival. Then he wondered about his scale armor and defensive mantle, currently shaped like a black shawl, not really wanting to leave either.

  “I can drop the armor,” Aren conceded, shaking it off and folding it. “What are we going to do with our things?”

  “The owner will take care of them. We can store them in a chest and pick them up later,” Mar’tei informed him.

  He nodded and dropped the armor into the wooden box. Then he looked at his shawl and wondered what to do with it. He could not change its shape without a bit of sorcery.

  “If you want to take it, we can pick a different set,” Crina said, not minding at all, and began looking through the other clothes.

  She quickly found a hip-length lavender loose shirt that would be tied with a thick, silver-colored belt. The cloth was adorned with golden embroidery across the chest. She paired it with a dark charcoal-gray pair of loose pants that glittered slightly in the light.

  He looked at the clothes and nodded, taking them beyond the partition. He put them on easily enough, but after trying a few knots on the belt, he couldn’t make it look right, the cloth always seemed to bend in the wrong direction.

  He stepped out holding it in his hands. “How do you tie this?”

  Mar’tei looked just as confused at the silvery piece of fabric, and Crina stepped closer with an outstretched hand. When she got near, she blushed and ended up staring at his bare chest for a moment, and he coughed, feeling a little self-conscious himself.

  “Ah, sorry, I’m a bit unused to this,” she mumbled and took the cloth in her hand.

  Quickly taking the thinner end of the belt, she measured a short stretch. Holding it, she wound the rest around him, and when she had two strips, she created a flowing, spiraling pattern just below his navel.

  “You’re good with your hands,” Aren commented.

  “Thanks,” she smiled sincerely. “I’d better be, I’ve been around clothes for a long time.”

  He looked himself over in the mirror and found the combination striking, yet elegant.

  “Looks good,” Mar’tei told him. “Or should I say, you look fabulous, my Lord.”

  Crina giggled, and he accepted the compliment with a gracefully serious nod before smiling.

  “We should head out,” Aren said, turning to Crina. “Activate the medallion.”

  She nodded, and Mar’tei lost focus for a second. “This feels weird for a moment when you pay attention to the shift. It’s like I forgot something at the tip of my tongue. She is here, right?”

  Aren nodded and pointed his finger. Mar’tei looked and pinched her nose.

  “It’s like I’m looking at the most nondescript person I could ever see,” she commented. Then Crina stepped to the side. “And now she is like a spirit I know is here but cannot sense.”

  “Let's go,” Aren opened the door.

  They met the bald man in the main hall, and his eyes seemed to shine when he saw them.

  “You look lovely,” he said, clasping his hands together. “I was right about brighter hair for you, young man.”

  Mar’tei smiled back at him. “Thank you. I also chose another dress.” She explained their purchases and what they had left in the chest.

  The man nodded, pulled out an abacus, and began counting the prices. She also mentioned that they had accidentally used one extra dye, but the man waved his hand.

  “It will be thirty-five large silver coins,” the man stated.

  Mar’tei balked at the sum and hesitated with her purse. Aren saw this and shrugged, pulling out a gold coin. The man took it as a gentlemanly gesture and nodded to him in appreciation.

  Mar’tei looked at him as they left, tilting her head in guilt. “Sorry, can we split the bill? I didn’t expect those prices.”

  “I don’t really have my own money,” Crina said weakly, but only he truly paid attention to her words, even then, they felt slightly distant.

  “It’s fine,” Aren said to them. “I can’t reach my savings account from here, but I could buy everything in this shop and barely feel it.”

  “I guess, but it doesn’t feel fair,” Mar’tei said to him.

  “Then you can pay for food,” Aren said. “Let’s enjoy the festival now. We’re wasting time.”

  “Where first?” Mar’tei asked.

  Crina shifted from leg to leg and pointed in a direction. “I think the flower prayers are happening there.”

  “I guess the wind points this way,” Aren teased, following after the woman in the orange dress.

  They stopped at multiple food stalls that Crina led them to. Aren always ordered two for himself and passed them to her afterwards. He was starting to feel pretty full and oversweetened, but fortunately, they reached a wide artificial oasis.

  Many people were simply enjoying sitting around the clear water, but most had gathered on a large patch of grass, praying together.

  They got closer and saw priests kneeling around a field of blooming flowers. Large patches of flowers tangled together in chaotic vibrancy, brightening the day. New flowers sprouted and grew quickly, fed by pure worship, stretching toward the sun as if in fervent desire.

  The show continued for a while, and both Crina and Mar’tei were entranced, one witnessing the miracle of worship, the other marveling at so much living color in one place, after growing up surrounded by near-constant snow.

  When the entire area was covered in all kinds of flowers, thick stems sprouted in the center. A golden, glowing head bloomed, radiating light that bathed the area in a wondrous shower of brilliance.

  Crina and the other believers started praying, and he instinctively put his hands to his chest. He would have blinked at the movement, but he also noticed that Crina was losing focus and becoming visible. He poked her shoulder, startling her.

  “You’re becoming visible,” Aren informed her. The girl quickly closed her eyes, and the effect took hold again.

  Afterwards, they found themselves strolling through the streets, enjoying the crafts on sale.

  “The flowers were amazing,” Mar’tei commented, examining a golden-and-silver necklace that twisted the metals together. “I’ve never seen so much color in one place before.”

  “It was my first time seeing so many as well,” Crina replied.

  “Ah, a good spirit tells me that this is one of the largest they have seen,” Aren intoned with amusement. “It was nice to watch, indeed.”

  “I see,” Mar’tei nodded. “We are lucky, then.”

  “Oh, this is beautiful,” Crina said, looking at a bracelet connected to a ring by a rose-gold chain. It was embedded with grey and light-blue crystals that reflected her eyes beautifully. The ring was made of entwined gold and thin white bands of metal.

  Aren looked it over and decided to pick it up, addressing the merchant, “I will take this.”

  He quickly exchanged money with the stall owner and didn’t give the shocked girl a chance to react, handing her the accessory.

  “I can’t!” she protested. “You already made me the necklace.”

  “That’s a tool,” Aren said, reminding the young woman he did not intend it as a gift. “Consider this a memento.”

  “I… okay,” she said, taking it and putting it on, examining it closely.

  Mar’tei stepped closer to him, a tender look in her eyes. “That was a cute accessory.”

  He nodded, and they continued on their way. They passed through a busy square filled with music, where a priest manipulated a glowing ball of heat that people danced under. It was smaller than the one he had seen on the first day, but the crowd danced just as excitedly.

  He looked at Crina, who had stopped and was watching wistfully. Suddenly, he felt a weak nudge in his ribs. He turned to see Mar’tei and knew what she wanted, but he felt hesitant for some reason. He had enjoyed dancing last time, but he still had to be coaxed into it.

  That made him reflect on whether he was introverted or simply hesitant to do things he was not confident in. Looking at Crina’s gaze, he shelved those thoughts for now.

  “Would you honor me with a dance?” Aren asked, stretching out his hand to her as he had been taught.

  She blinked at him and blushed for some reason, but quickly nodded and took his hand. Before he could consider the next step, he was swept into the crowd with more force than he expected.

  He started as he had learned the first time, and Crina welcomed his steps with the slight hesitation of someone who knew them but had never practiced with a partner, or at least not for real.

  Still, as they danced and she gained confidence, she stepped more surely. Soon, he found himself spinning her under his arm. It felt like he was in the lead, yet she guided his every step.

  He did not mind, he made far fewer mistakes this way. He could already tell that the slower, more methodical pace suited him better. The moments they shared stretched across a few dozen minutes, and Crina seemed eager to try everything she had never been able to before.

  After a half step into his space and a twist of her hips, he found himself staring into her eyes, which seemed to radiate pure joy. Her breath brushed his neck, and he felt a shiver climb up his spine. Then she twisted, and he caught her as she leaned backward.

  They stayed like that for a moment. He blinked as her gaze seemed to glaze, and a small tear slipped from her eye. He straightened them both.

  “Are you okay?” Aren asked, his mind racing, wondering if he had done something wrong.

  “I’m okay, thank you,” she said, wiping her tears as the effect of the magic returned. He had not even noticed it slipping during the dance. “It’s nothing. It was just a small dream of mine.”

  “I see,” he said, leading her out of the mass of bodies. They found Mar’tei where they had left her, drinking something from a cup.

  She must have noticed something on his face, as her eyebrows arched in question. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes, nothing is wrong,” he said, shrugging off the thoughts, realizing it was what the young woman had said.

  “Ask her to dance,” Crina told him.

  Aren coughed into his fist. “Shall we share a dance?”

  Mar’tei gulped her drink in surprise but nodded. She accepted his hand, and they walked toward the crowd.

  They started dancing in a more spirited fashion right away compared to his previous attempt. He was immediately thankful for the bit of training he had done, as he felt much more secure on his feet.

  He made sure to keep a bit of attention on his magical senses, keeping track of Crina’s location in his mind. She seemed to watch both of them from a distance.

  “Did Crina ask you to dance with me?” Mar’tei asked, slowing down a step.

  He looked away. “I guess that’s obvious.”

  “You are kind to her,” she stated.

  “I just despise what awaits her at the end of this,” he replied.

  “Having your freedom taken away by their god must not be easy,” she said with a scowl. “Our ancestors may expect things of us, but there is always a choice to partake in their tests.”

  “That too…” Aren said, but didn’t elaborate, instead looking around. “But that’s not for here.”

  She nodded, confused. Over the next few minutes of dancing, she picked up the energy again. By the time they were done, he was still out of breath but did not want to collapse.

  They found Crina, and she stepped up to him. “Can we go somewhere else?”

  “Where?” Aren asked.

  “The district where Lan and Wes found the children, and the orphanage Bar’tik discovered,” she said, a serious look on her face.

  “I mean, it’s your day, but don’t you want to have more fun?” he asked.

  “I’ve had enough,” she said with a tinge of firmness. “I need to see it for tomorrow. I doubt Marie will take me there after this.”

  He nodded, then spoke to Mar’tei. “We are heading to the orphanage Bar’tik ended up at on the first day.”

  Mar’tei looked confused but nodded. Their walk took a while, but soon the crowds lessened as they moved away from the main streets.

  Aren sharpened his attention, feeling exposed without his focus spells in the dilapidated streets. He avoided a fallen sign depicting a chisel, half-covered in sand.

  “Is it safe here?” Mar’tei asked.

  “Probably,” he replied, hoping.

  “It’s an old arts district,” Crina said. “There was a plague a few decades ago, just after the current governor took over.

  “He offered the remaining artists a place between the craftsman and residential districts. That was a good thing, but his tendency to favor mainly religious artwork led to the loss of some rather unique creations that were being developed here.

  “They were experimenting with light in unique ways and abstraction. I wish I could have seen some. The orphanage was also opened nearby after the horrible event, although I hear it was forgotten about once the first generation grew up.”

  Aren relayed the impromptu history lesson. He skipped some details, but a slightly drunk elderly man passing by overheard him.

  “You’re a local?” the man asked, a surprised look on his face as he eyed Aren’s band.

  “No, we’re travelers from the north,” Aren replied carefully.

  “You’ve learned the local history quite well, then,” the man said, his voice tinged with deep-rooted bitterness.

  “Do you live around here?” Mar’tei asked, and when the man nodded, she promptly continued, “Did any of the art survive?”

  “What do you know of art?” the man scoffed.

  “I’m no artist,” she answered honestly. “Back home, most of our art is dedicated to nature or our hunts, but lately I’ve found the new current of songs and drawings depicting flame as a force that might one day turn humanity away from nature fascinating.”

  “That’s… a fun idea,” the man said, his tone suddenly shifting. He considered them for a moment. “Do you want to see something?”

  Aren hesitated, but both Crina and Mar’tei seemed eager. He eventually agreed, and they followed the man to the side of one of the buildings. The door that greeted them had clearly been repaired multiple times.

  The inside of the building was neat and clean, but clearly old. They were led to a dark room that lacked any windows, and the man lit a few candles.

  They saw many stacks of wooden frames covered with cloth. The man looked around for a moment, considering, then without a word, he picked up a piece and uncovered it for them.

  The painting was made with reflective paint that, despite the weak light, captured and shifted it. A spiraling pattern emerged from its center in bright golds, shifting to warm hues that seemed to embrace the viewer. The light reflected off the painting felt welcoming and pleasant.

  “That feels thankful, towards life and the center of one’s life,” Mar’tei said unprompted.

  The man looked at her and nodded, satisfied. “That’s what I felt once, too.”

  “Did you draw this?” she asked.

  “No, this was my father’s,” he said. “He died during the plague. My mother then worked to death to keep me and my siblings fed.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mar’tei said.

  “That was ages ago, before you were born,” he continued. “It feels… right to show this.”

  “Are you also a painter?” Crina asked, though the man couldn’t see or hear her.

  “Do you paint yourself?” Aren asked.

  “I…” the man began to deny it but hesitated. “It’s different.”

  “Can I see, anyway?” he asked.

  The man looked around as if searching for a way out. When he moved, it was as though he were preparing to reveal a deep secret. The piece he picked was smaller than his father’s, he placed it in front of them, covering the older one, and after a pause to steady himself, he carefully pulled back the cloth.

  What Aren saw stole his breath. The piece was indeed different. The colors were dark, beginning with deep blue at the top and growing darker toward the bottom, forming a black unknowable shape that surrounded a single purple circle with a tinge of red. The light it emitted felt oppressive, yet attentive.

  “Can I buy it?” Aren asked, surprised at himself. His feet moved backwards, wanting to get away from it, his hand itching forward, never wanting to let it go.

  The man watched his eyes for a long moment. “What do you see?”

  “Despair, monsters, the helpless desire to end them, the need to always be ready,” he said, as if letting something go for the first time. His eyes could not leave the canvas.

  “Take it,” the man said simply, covering it again. “I will accept no money for it.”

  “I… thank you,” Aren said sincerely, taking the piece, which the man had tied with a string to secure the cloth.

  Afterward, the man asked to be left alone and escorted them out of the building. Aren still felt unsettled from the experience, art had never made him feel this way.

  “That was important to see,” Crina said. “I know what I will ask the governor to do with the proceeds from the sales of the cores. The children are important, but this is too.”

  “Right,” he nodded.

  Mar’tei glanced at him, wanting to say something, but stopped herself.

  “We should go back,” Crina said.

  “Are you sure?” Aren asked.

  “I’m satisfied,” Crina said. “Thank you truly. I’ll thank Mar’tei properly later.”

  “We should head back,” Aren told the younger mage.

  The walk back was silent. Around one corner, they saw two kids fighting with sticks under an old balcony. He smiled slightly at the sight, then reacted a moment too late.

  His magic churned to create a sorcerous barrier, but he forcefully redirected it to his relic. It was too slow. Cold metal pierced his stomach, narrowly missing his ribs as he shifted at the last moment. He gritted his teeth as a barrier formed over his fist, consuming a significant portion of his mana.

  The assailant sneered at him, moving to twist the blade, her legs shrouded in a blue aura. A familiar face from a few days ago appeared behind her. When the rebounding force of the barrier struck the woman’s head, it bent inward, her neck cracking as she went flying, smashing into the wall of a nearby building.

  The two others stared in shock as Aren held his side, the blade still embedded there. Then they moved as one, their arms and blades glowing. He stopped them with a barrier, the resulting shockwave sending them tumbling and throwing sand into the air.

  Then another thing happened, the shockwave traveled through a nearby building, and the old balcony cracked. The two children stared in wonder and terror, unaware of the impending danger.

  A yell snapped Aren to attention as Crina grabbed the children. He raced to form another barrier, barely preventing the rubble from crushing all three of them.

  He breathed a sigh of relief and quickly scanned his surroundings. The woman and the two men were getting up. He pinned both of them with barriers, and, seeing no one else around, he fell to one knee, a bile of blood leaving his mouth as he struggled to breathe.

  Mar’tei ran up to him, quickly tearing her skirt to tie his wound, her face frantic.

  Aren laughed, and she stared at him. “I guess I wasn’t careful enough. I tried to use magic first and was slow to react.”

  “I hesitated too,” Mar’tei said, looking at his wound, terrified. “We need to get you to a healer.”

  At that moment, Crina and the two children joined them, her passive magic long forgotten. She looked around, panicked and unsure what to do, reaching for something near her neck.

  “It’s okay,” Aren said. “She’s already coming. I guess she finally realized we were gone.”

  The wave of holy energy that disrupted the local mana was obvious to his senses.

  When the exemplar landed next to them, she looked at them with a gaze that promised retribution. Yet there was also visible relief that Crina was safe. Once she confirmed the young woman was unharmed, Marie turned to stare at his wound in confusion.

  “Can you heal this?” Aren asked. “Unless I should use magic to stop the bleeding.”

  His screams of pain filled the alleyway as an excessive amount of searing healing energy surged through him.

  (I’ll try to post before the new year… though I also meant to post yesterday :P)