The wheels clatter over the cobbled road, a rhythmic rumble beneath the wooden frame of the carriage, the landscape shifts; trees on either side grow sparse, their skeletal branches swaying in the wind. A few brittle leaves cling stubbornly, while others lie scattered across the barren ground, crackling softly as the wind tumbles them along. The morning sun has done little to warm the world, and the cold creeps through the seams of the carriage.

  “The weather’s turning chillier by the day,” Aurelien remarks, pulling her cloak a little tighter around her shoulders. “I didn’t send for a carriage from the Sanctuary since I’m visiting a friend on personal matters… If I had, your journey to Pantmawr might’ve been a touch more comfortable.”

  She offers a faint smile, her tone casual, her current garb: a simple, well-worn cloak of deep brown, is far from the dignified robes of a Sanctifier. She looks like any other townswoman now, save for the composed grace in her bearing.

  “We’re still grateful, Sanctifier Aurelien! This is much better than walking!” Risa grins, stretching out her legs as much as the space allows.

  Aurelien’s smile warms. “You can just call me ‘Madam’. We’ll be travelling together for a few days. It’d be rather awkward to maintain titles the entire time.”

  “Sure! Madam Aurelien!” Risa chirps, pleased by the familiarity.

  Inside, the carriage rocks gently with each bump in the road. Finn and Nyx sit on one side, facing Aurelien and Risa. They had left Narfolk at dawn, the sky barely stained with gold, Gerard the only one to see them off.

  “I’ll remain behind to handle what’s left,” Gerard had said, the fatigue in his voice barely concealed. His beard was unshaved, dark stubble shadowing a face marred by sleepless nights. Bloodshot eyes stared out from under furrowed brows. Yet his posture remained upright, his demeanour as sharp as ever. Not even Sariah’s betrayal, as heavy as it must have been, had shattered the knight’s outward resolve.

  “What will happen to Bren?” Finn had asked, his voice low, earnest.

  “With your request… and the Sanctifier’s,” Gerard replied, “we permitted him to see his wife’s body with knights’ escort.

  Finn had exhaled softly, guilt pressing at the edge of his thoughts. In this foreign land, he had only Gerard and Sariah to turn to, and now Sariah was gone. It was through Gerard’s credibility and Aurelien’s grace that Bren had seen his wife’s frozen form one last time. That was all Finn could do.

  “My crew and I won’t say a word about Nyx,” Gerard said then. “But if he turns out to be… something against what you wish him to be, I’ll do what I must to bring him to justice.”

  Finn had looked him in the eye, steady. “And I’ll do what I must do to help him. I believe in Nyx. He’s a blank page, it’s up to the people around him to decide what’s written.”

  He had reached out, clasped Gerard’s hand. “Thank you, Gerard. We may’ve met under less-than-ideal circumstances, but you’ve helped us a lot.” Then, lowering his voice, “Hope you can flush out any spies planted by the cult.”

  Gerard had nodded, understanding, before turning back toward his mounting responsibilities.

  Now, inside the carriage once more, the cold continues to press gently against the windows, though it is kept at bay by Aurelien’s subtle magic.

  “Madam Aurelien,” Finn says, glancing across to her, “the mage we’re visiting…just curious, what kind of person is she?”

  Aurelien pauses, her eyes softening with memory. “What kind of person… It’s been a long time.” She looks out the window briefly before continuing. “We studied together at The Academy. The very one Risa’s hoping to attend.”

  Risa leans forward, visibly excited. “Really? Which school were you in?”

  “I studied at the Sanctum of the Living, the school for healing, light-based magic, and protective barriers.”

  “I’ve heard of that,” Finn says, nodding. “Many of Kalos's best healers come from there.”

  Aurelien’s lips curl into a kind smile. “Yes, though I was never the most exceptional. My friend, the mage we’re going to see, studied at Ebonroot Hall. It’s a school that focuses on necromancy and cursecraft.”

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  Finn adds. “A good match, then. If anyone can cast a containment spell around the curse, it’s her.”

  “But how did you meet if you were in different schools?” Risa asks, curiosity brimming in her voice.

  “The Academy organises a tournament for second and third-year students. We were in the same group.”

  “Oh! I’ve heard about that,” Risa says quickly, eyes wide with anticipation. “The winners even get an audience with the Queen, right?”

  Finn nods, arms folded loosely across his chest. “It’s a tradition, been around for decades.”

  “Exactly,” Aurelien adds, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “We didn’t win. But it's one of the best experiences of my youth.” Her eyes flicker with quiet nostalgia.

  “I can’t wait to be part of it!” Risa beams, practically bouncing in her seat.

  The conversation drifts along, warm and spirited. Finn slips in a dry comment now and then, drawing laughter from both women, their giggles brightening the carriage like sunlight glancing off frosted glass. Nyx remains silent, absorbed in his book and the chatter around him. Aurelien quietly takes it all in.

  She turns to him gently. “Hello, Nyx, isn’t it? How old are you?”

  The boy meets her eyes with a carefully rehearsed expression. “Hello, Madam Aurelien. I am seven.”

  “I see,” she says with a smile, noting the boy’s careful tone. “It’s the age that can enrol into the Initiate School. And your parents… where are they?”

  “My parents are from Dewhill,” Nyx replies, the words flowing like a memorised script. “They’ve entrusted me to Uncle Finn to bring me to The Academy.”

  Risa and Finn both nod in quiet satisfaction. Their preparations are paying off.

  “Just like Risa, then,” Aurelien says kindly, and the conversation continues. She engages without prying, always leaving room for comfort. Her warmth never oversteps.

  Outside, snow begins to fall. Tiny flakes drift gently from the clouds, swirling in the wind like soft feathers. Winter has arrived, silent and sure. In response, Aurelien murmurs a spell, and a gentle warmth surrounds the carriage, extending even to the coachman and horses.

  With the help of wind magic, their journey takes only two days before they reach Pantmawr.

  Unlike Narfolk’s quaint size or Mistwood’s fortified purpose, Pantmawr is a thriving city nestled near the capital. A merchant’s haven. The streets are wider, paved and busy, flanked by tall buildings that blend grandeur and age. Signs swing in the breeze, market stalls buzz with shouting traders and haggling buyers, and street performers draw small crowds with fire tricks and illusion shows. The scent of roasted nuts, spiced meats, and fresh bread drifts through the air.

  “Wow! This is the biggest city I’ve ever seen!” Risa exclaims, eyes dancing from shop to shop.

  Their private carriage, not marked with the Sanctuary’s crest, doesn’t grant them special access. They disembark at the gates, walking the rest of the way.

  A performer draws Risa’s attention: a man swallowing a flaming sword to the crowd's awe. She claps eagerly, enchanted.

  “Madam Aurelien,” Finn says gently, “why don’t we rest at an inn first? It’s been a long ride.”

  “That’s very considerate,” she says with a nod, weariness settling in her bones.

  They take two rooms: one for the women, one for the men, and have an early dinner in the inn’s modest hall. Afterwards, Aurelien excuses herself for some much-needed rest.

  Seeing the children’s excitement, Finn decides they should explore the city a little.

  “Anywhere you’d like to go?” he asks.

  Nyx shakes his head. Risa bites her lip in thought, then lights up. “Can we watch a show? I’ve only read about them in books!”

  Finn smiles. “Let’s find out.”

  He approaches the innkeeper. “Any performances tonight?”

  “You’re in luck!” the man grins. “A travelling circus is in town! Best acts we’ve had in months.”

  When Risa’s eyes sparkle with delight, Finn doesn’t hesitate.

  “Where can I get tickets?”

  “Right here, actually. 10 coins each. Buy two, and the third’s free!”

  The smile, the upsell… it reminds him of someone from the Hunter’s Guild. But he’s not short on coins now. “We’ll take three.”

  “Thank you, Finn!” Risa beams. Nyx echoes her, quieter but sincere: “Thank you, Finn.”

  Before the show, they wander through the evening market. Stalls glint under oil lamps and enchanted orbs, their goods a mixture of foreign spices, handmade trinkets, enchanted toys, and roasted treats.

  Finn buys generously, watching the children savour every bite. Risa, once energetic, slows as her stomach protests; now she tastes only and passes the rest to Nyx.

  “Can you taste the food, Nyx?” Risa asks curiously.

  “Before no. Now, yes.”

  “The ‘before you mean is when you were in… your other form?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why did you take my meat skewer in the labyrinth?” Finn throws in, half-amused.

  Nyx deadpans. “Because it’s meat.”

  Finn laughs. “Fair enough.”

  Soon, the circus awaits, and for tonight, at least, let’s just enjoy the show.