The town of Nareth's Hollow unfolded like a half-remembered dream at the end of the dirt road, nestled in a cradle of sloping hills and surrounded by mist-kissed trees. It wasn’t large, just a modest cluster of homes and buildings arranged around a winding cobblestone path, but it had a vibe that was hard to shake.

  Thin threads of blue light pulsed faintly beneath the stones we walked on, forming patterns too intricate to be decorative. A few villagers glanced our way as we passed through the crooked gate, their expressions unreadable, more curious than cautious, but with an undercurrent of something else. Recognition? Wariness? Hard to tell.

  Even the silence here felt more alive.

  Cael slowed beside me, glancing around. “Cozy place,” he muttered, dragging his eyes across the street with a lazy sweep. “Smells like someone dumped perfume on a funeral pyre.”

  I huffed a laugh. “You’ve got a real gift for setting the mood.”

  “Hey, I aim to please.”

  We continued through what passed for the town square, a slightly wider stretch of road lined with worn stalls and faded banners fluttering in the breeze. A short, hunched man swept dust from his storefront, barely sparing us a glance. Kids darted between alleyways like ghosts, silent and quick.

  I tried not to show it, but part of me was still somewhere else entirely.

  Seraphine.

  Leaving her behind at the tavern had been like carving a piece of myself off and handing it to fate. The girl had only just started to regain some color in her cheeks, the faintest spark returning to her eyes. After everything she’d been through, after the quiet terror in her voice when she talked about her past, I wasn’t about to risk her safety.

  So I’d done what I could. Quietly.

  Before Cael even noticed I was gone, I’d taken care of things. Slipped downstairs, had a long talk with the tavern owner, tossed a fat pouch of copper and a few silvers onto the counter. Enough to cover the room for a week, daily meals, clean water, and even proper clothes if she needed them.

  But that wasn’t enough. Not for my peace of mind.

  So I found two knights lingering in the common room, mercs more than anything, but disciplined, experienced. I paid them under the table. Their job was simple: blend in, stay close, and keep their eyes on her door. If anything happened, if anyone even looked at her wrong, they were to deal with it. Or send word if it got too big to handle.

  “You with me or daydreaming about tavern girls?” Cael said, elbowing me with that crooked grin of his.

  “Just thinking,” I muttered, pulling my coat tighter around my arm.

  “That’s dangerous.”

  I gave him a dry look. “So’s trusting a scholar who can’t sit still for more than a week.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, well… danger’s kind of your brand now, isn’t it?”

  I almost smiled. Somehow, without meaning to, Cael and I had grown close. He’d trained me, fed me, even got me a place to stay. And before I knew it, I started seeing him as something more than just a mentor. He was the closest thing I ever had to a father. Not that I’d ever admit that out loud.

  The inn came into view, a weathered, three-story building with ivy crawling along its stone walls. Its sign, painted with flickering enchantments, read The Hollow Flame in glowing script. Warm light spilled from the windows, but something about the place still gave me pause. A soft buzz of mana skimmed across my skin the closer we got. My skills were active.

  I stopped just short of the entrance. A flicker caught my eye, a silhouette in an upstairs window, just for a second. Too fast to make out.

  I turned to Cael. His grin was still on.

  Was that her? The scholar he was talking about?

  That was… easy.

  FUCK! I need to stop saying shit before I jinx it again.

  The inside of the inn was warm and cozy, far more well-kept than most roadside places I’d been to. The scent of roasting meat drifted through the air, and low chatter buzzed around us as Cael led the way upstairs. The stairs creaked under our boots, the kind of sound that would usually alert anyone within earshot.

  We reached the top floor and paused in the dimly lit corridor. Cael glanced down at a slip of paper in his hand, checking the room number.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Should be this one,” he muttered, nodding toward the door ahead.

  I didn’t even get a chance to knock.

  “Looking for me?” a soft, teasing voice called out behind us.

  I spun around instantly, hand halfway to my dagger, but stopped cold when I saw her.

  How the hell…?

  She stood with arms crossed, leaning casually against the wall as if she’d been there the whole time. Not even a whisper of movement had given her away. Not a sound. No mana signature, no flicker of presence. Nothing.

  Even Cael looked caught off guard.

  “Still the habit of sneaking up behind others, Lysara?” he said with a chuckle, relaxing slightly. “It’s truly amazing every time I see it. I am never able to detect your presence.”

  

  I blinked, looking between the two of them. My eyes narrowed. “Wait… you mean she’s stronger than you?”

  Cael snorted and looked over at me with an amused grin. “Nah, don’t get it twisted. She’s not stronger. She just knows mana like it’s part of her soul. She can suppress her presence so well it’s like she doesn’t exist, hell, even I can’t pull that off. Not like her.”

  The woman tilted her head slightly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You flatter me, Cael. But if I remember correctly, you nearly caught me that one time.”

  “Pfft,” he waved her off, grinning. “That was a fluke.”

  I studied her more closely now, and something about her nagged at me. She was beautiful, strikingly so. Long, raven-black hair fell in smooth waves down her back, and her eyes were a deep, dark blue, sharp yet graceful. Her frame was tall and elegant, full-bodied and poised with effortless confidence.

  She looked… familiar.

  Like Seraphine, if Seraphine was in her 30s, had grown up in silk robes and bathed in power instead of chains.

  My throat dried a little as I tried not to stare. What the hell was going on?

  Cael clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Zane, meet Lysara. Scholar, pain in the ass, and the only person I know who might be able to figure out what’s going on with your arm.”

  “Pleasure,” she said, eyes locking with mine, the corners of her mouth curled in a knowing smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you already.”

  Cael and I both raised an eyebrow in sync.

  He crossed his arms and tilted his head. “And how exactly do you know about him?”

  Lysara gave a soft laugh, brushing a strand of midnight hair behind her ear. “Oh, I knew you two were looking for me. That’s why I stayed at the inn a few extra days. You boys are so... rough with these things.” Her dark blue eyes slid toward me, gleaming with a strange familiarity. “I know of your little shenanigans too.”

  My heart skipped a beat. Shit. Was she talking about the slave market?

  But she just smiled innocently and waved a hand. “Kidding~ What brings you to me?”

  Before I could breathe easy, she turned to Cael with a teasing smirk. “Since when did you start taking disciples, Cael?”

  He chuckled and threw a glance my way. “Zane’s a bit special.”

  That earned him a skeptical eyebrow lift from her, but her smile never faded. The kind of smile that made you feel like she already knew far more than she let on.

  With a graceful motion, Lysara walked past us, her presence like a passing breeze and opened the door with a light push. She turned back with a smirk, gesturing inside. “Well, come in then. No point standing in the hallway like lost puppies.”

  The room inside wasn’t anything grand, plain wooden floors, a modest bed in the corner, and a single window letting in pale light. It was sparsely furnished, but overflowing with stacks of books, aged scrolls, vials of mana-infused ink, and peculiar crystal apparatuses humming softly with residual energy. Every surface seemed to be devoted to the study of mana in one way or another.

  “I travel light,” she said casually, stepping inside ahead of us. “Hard to put down roots when your work keeps pulling you across the damn continent.”

  Snap

  She then snapped her fingers without even looking. A soft hum echoed through the room as a faint ripple passed over the walls, like a film settling into place. The sounds from outside dulled into silence, leaving only the crackle of mana hanging in the air. I could feel it, thick, controlled, like a net cast over the space.

  Her playful expression vanished.

  Her eyes locked on me, sharp and focused. “You’re corrupted.”

  It wasn’t a question. Her tone dropped into something colder, analytical.

  “What the fuck even happened to you?”

  Cael let out a breath beside me, rubbing the back of his neck like he was already tired of the explanation. “Oh, so you realized. Yeah… he absorbed a corrupted mana core and his whole arm is fucked.”

  Her head whipped toward him. “He what?” Her voice edged into disbelief.

  “And he survived?” she asked, eyes wide now as she stared at me like I’d just spat in the face of reality itself.

  Cael nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching in a grin. “Exactly what I meant by him being special earlier.”

  Lysara’s gaze didn’t waver. “Wait, did you absorb the whole core?”

  I nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “And has it been a week?”

  “Just about.”

  She stepped closer, already reaching out. “Show me your hand.”

  I shrugged off the coat with a sigh and rolled up my sleeve. The dark purple veins were still there, crawling just past my elbow, but nothing like before.

  She studied it for a long moment, her brows pulling together. “Huh. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

  “My arm became better last night. That’s good, right? ” I asked, trying to read her expression.

  “Not really,” she muttered, frowning now. “It means the corruption already reached your heart.”

  I already knew that, but I guess it's better to act dumb right now.

  “Wait, what?”

  She glanced up at me, her expression grim. “The corruption doesn’t stop halfway unless it has a reason. If your arm’s stabilized this much, it means your heart’s no longer just pumping blood, it’s acting as the core now. The corruption isn’t near it. It’s in it. Your heart has become the anchor for all of it.”

  Well fuck, I didn't know that.

  “Well, it was way worse before,” I said, rolling my shoulder. “Almost my whole arm was black. Then last night, it just… eased up.

  She raised an eyebrow at me. "Corruption doesn’t heal itself. You don’t wake up one day with less of it unless something or someone intervened.” Her voice dropped, laced with sharp suspicion. “So tell me the truth. What really happened?”

  I let out a slow breath, trying to keep my face neutral.

  Fuck. I am so smart for trying to get away with lying in front of a scholar.