I reached the city outskirts just after sunset. The guards standing watch near the gates spared me a glance but did not seem overly concerned with a late arrival. Then again, I was a slim, superficially unarmed teenager wearing simple traveler's clothes and carrying only a backpack. If I raised suspicions, no one could ever enter Aranth without drawing suspicion again.

  The streets were quiet, with only a handful of people walking this way as they made their way home or to one of the various bars and taverns. I worked to avoid any attention, keeping my head downturned and my eyes averted. Despite that, I pushed my senses as far as out as possible, ready for any attacks that might come.

  I moved at a crawl, listening for suspicious noises, taking furtive glances when I could spare them, and always searching for even a hint of hostile magic. An attacker might use cold iron again, but such blades were expensive. Surprise was a far cheaper weapon.

  The direct path to our warehouse home would take me about an hour, but I did not take it. Instead, I moved through side streets and backways, looping around major roads, turning around, pausing in spots, and even once using a brief flex of my magic to jump up and over a stone wall, cutting through the enclosed back courtyard of a shop. Paranoid though it felt, I would rather play it safe and throw off any possible pursuers.

  Any hint of annoyance vanished when I ducked down the narrow street leading to my home, only to see what lay there.

  The warehouse was gone. What was once a short, wide, well-built rectangular of wood and glass was now a charred husk. The roof had collapsed, and only one wall remained in anything resembling an intact state. Neighboring buildings appeared damaged where the initial blaze must have spread, but the bulk of the fire seemed focused on what had been my home.

  I stared for a few seconds, then turned and walked away. An icy fist clenched my heart, and I moved as fast as I dared without drawing attention to myself. Had I paused for too long? Were assassins even now moving in for the kill?

  Rather than dwell on that thought, I started heading north again. Any thoughts of finding and warning Wallace had fled my mind. He was likely dead, and I was soon to follow if I did not escape the city now while I had the chance.

  I was halfway back to the gates when I felt a flicker of mana to my side, accompanied by the faintest crunch of boots on gravel. A shape jumped out just as I turned, and I moved on instinct. Mana flowed through my body, rushing down my left arm, and I threw my hand out, releasing the energy in a crude, telekinetic blast.

  A wave of green struck the shape, and it flew back a couple of feet. I heard it hit the ground with an audible 'oof' and saw it roll back to its feet in a single, smooth motion. There was a faint, hissing noise as it drew a sword, but the movement seemed almost sluggish. I had already drawn my Aether together into my Arcane Body spell, and the world had grown a half-a-heartbeat slower.

  I was halfway through gathering my mana into another attack when the shape held up its free hand.

  "Wait!" the shape hissed, "It's me!"

  I stared at the shape, trying to pierce through the nighttime gloom and failing. So, instead, I reached out and tried to sense its mana. Faces lied, but that was indelible as far as I knew.

  His mana felt deeper and yet more focused, closer to advancing than I thought should be possible in a few months. Yet it had the same cold, sharp feeling I had associated with metal mana. It was Wallace, of that I had no doubt.

  I lowered my hand and asked, "What—"

  Wallace shook his head, a motion I barely caught in the shadows, and he gestured towards the alley before vanishing down it. I followed, pausing just long enough to draw my Traveler's Armor into place. Ally or not, there was no point in being quite so stupid.

  The former noble led me down a few twisting turns, heading further west in a route that felt tailor-made to disorient. It struck me as ironic, and I almost laughed aloud as I followed the man. Finally, we came to a spot behind two buildings. They formed a small, triangular alcove where their roofs overlapped, creating something akin to a shelter.

  I could see in the moonlight the faintest of shapes where it looked like someone had layered scrap pieces of wood to reinforce this shelter, providing cover and protection from the elements. Not much, but enough to survive so long as one was careful.

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  Wallace paused, and I had just enough time to sense his mana shifting before he spun. I saw his bare first coming with almost superhuman speed and had enough time to consider whether or not to dodge. After all, he deserves at least one free hit if my assumptions were correct.

  I was still debating it when his punch landed.

  The strike had more power behind it than it should have, so much so that I had to roll with it to disperse the impact. It was nowhere near enough to break my armor or cause an injury, but I suspected Wallace had learned a few tricks these past months.

  I stared at Wallace as he hissed, taking a step away and shaking out his hand. Despite the gloom, I could feel his glare as he said, "What the hell are you made of?"

  "The same as you," I replied, "Are you alright?"

  "Go to hell."

  "That sounds like a 'no'."

  "You think?" Wallace shot back, "Where the hell have you been?"

  "Away," I said. I felt Wallace's mana shift again and continued, "I let the first punch go because you deserved it. But I am not particularly eager to get struck again, Wallace. Relax your magic, and I will explain. First, though, what happened here?"

  Wallace remained silent for a few seconds, then shook his head and grunted. He walked over to his shelter, sitting down with a loud sigh and gesturing towards the ground before him.

  I sat across from him, having just enough time to open my backpack and let Fortunatus out before Wallace said, "A few weeks ago, I was out. I'd started working with a swordsmith not far from here. Figured if I could learn how they're made, I could make them stronger or move them better. I stayed out later than normal, grabbing something to eat, and when I got home, the entire damned thing was ablaze."

  "Did you see what happened?" I asked, "Or hear anything?"

  "No, but I sure as hell sensed it," Wallace muttered, and his voice had turned enraged again, "Fire mana, Vayne. I could feel it feeding the flames. What the hell did you get me into?"

  "Master Lysandra and I traveled south to help save a lord's life. While there, we stumbled into a power struggle between the lord's students. The lord died, and one of them—or possibly several—mistakenly believed I was involved in his death. That, or they wanted to frame me. Either way, they sent assassins to kill me. I escaped, but I suspect burning our home down was an attempt to tie up any loose ends."

  Or to draw me out of hiding.

  Wallace barked out a humorless laugh, replying, "Fantastic. And you got me involved? Exceptional. Thanks for that."

  "It was not my intention to—"

  "Don't," Wallace interrupted, "Don't. Not after you've acted high and mighty when I tried to deflect responsibility for my actions."

  I tried to think of an argument, but none came to mind. It was not wholly my fault that this had happened, but it was even less so Wallace's. His sole mistake had been crossing my path.

  So, I nodded and replied, "You are right. This is my fault. I put you in danger, and for that, I am sorry."

  "Yeah, I'm sure. And why the hell are you here? You should know they'd try to track you down here, wouldn't you?"

  I rubbed the back of my neck. "I...well, I wanted to warn you."

  Wallace let out a dry laugh and said, "Bit late for that."

  "Obviously," I replied, "Regardless, I am sorry. It should go without saying, but our deal is over. I cannot in good conscience demand you follow me any longer."

  Wallace shook his head, responding, "Again, too little, too late. I'm a part of this now. Hell, where am I supposed to go?"

  "You could try to return to your family," I offered.

  "They'd never allow it. Besides, chances are they have people watching the gates into and out of the city. That's the only reason I stayed here this long. I was hoping they'd forget about me sooner or later."

  I nodded, turning over my thoughts before saying, "The way I see it, you have two paths ahead of you. The first is you stay here and continue as you have been. Hide here and hope they forget about you. Not a bad choice, all things considered."

  "Or?" Wallace asked.

  "Or," I paused momentarily, "You leave the city with me."

  Wallace did not respond for a time. I wondered if he would try and strike me again despite my earlier warning. Finally, he asked, "You're kidding, right?"

  "No."

  "What about all that talk about not demanding I stay with you?!"

  "I am offering to continue traveling together as equals, not demanding subservience."

  "Equals?" Wallace echoed, "This is your fault! I was happy before! And now you're trying to pretend you're being noble?"

  "No."

  "It was a rhetorical—"

  "No," I interrupted, "You were not happy. You were apathetic. I apologize for putting your life in danger. I am sorry for my failings. But do not pretend you were anything but complacent, content to waste away."

  Wallace folded his arms over his chest but did not respond, so I continued, "You can blame me if you prefer, but we both know the truth. You were throwing aside your talents."

  "Talents? My core has barely enough room to cast a handful of spells!"

  "And yet you have better control and precision with your magic than some adepts. You have a natural touch for mana that most would do damn near anything to possess. So yes, you are talented. Far more than most."

  Wallace folded his arms across his chest but did not reply. Seconds passed, and I finally pressed, "I cannot promise our journey will be safe. What I can do is promise I will do everything I can to help you reach your full potential. As a partner and an ally."

  I held out my hand, and Wallace looked at it for a long time. Finally, he said, "...say I accepted. What is your plan precisely?"

  "For now? We leave the city as soon as possible," I replied, "Ferris is a big place. There are plenty of places where we can vanish. If we can get strong enough—and important enough—I doubt most assassins will be willing to risk trying to kill us."

  "So...your plan is to keep running?" Wallace asked.

  "No, not exclusively. We need to find someone willing to protect us. A noble, preferably, or someone with a similar reputation."

  "Like that lord of yours?"

  I thought back to Duke Estton and shook my head. "No, not like him."

  Wallace was about to respond when I sensed something. Fortunatus had climbed onto the adjacent roof at some point, giving him an excellent view of the surrounding rooftops and alleys. More importantly, our bond had deepened enough to communicate from at least a few dozen feet away.

  I grabbed my backpack and began assembling my spear. Wallace caught the motion, half-standing as he said, "What are you—"

  "I would suggest getting ready for a fight," I muttered, standing and twirling my spear by my side, "We have a few friends coming to say hello."

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