Raine sat at a worn wooden table near the back of the Red Ember, trying to focus on the game of stones in front of him. Across from him, a dark-haired girl smirked, spinning one of the small carved pieces between her fingers.


    "You lose again," she said, placing the final stone in a neat row.


    Raine exhaled through his nose. "You sure you’re not cheating?"


    She grinned. "If I were cheating, I’d be taking more than just coppers off you."


    With a shake of his head, he flicked another coin onto the table. The girl—Leora—scooped it up with a satisfied look, adding it to the small pile she had taken from him over the last few hours.


    Three days had passed since the test at the Arcanum, and still, Kael had not returned.


    At first, Raine had barely left his rented room, afraid that showing his face would make him an easy target. But paranoia had quickly given way to boredom, and hiding had felt too much like waiting to be caught.


    He had spent the last two nights here, in the tavern’s dimly lit common room, watching the kind of people who wouldn’t remember his face unless he gave them a reason to.


    It had almost started to feel normal.


    Then the door creaked open.


    Leora looked up first. The smirk slipped from her face.


    Raine didn’t move. "What?"


    "Two mercs," she muttered. "Looking around like they’re expecting someone."


    His fingers tightened around the stone in his hand.


    "Looking this way?"


    "Not yet."


    He forced himself to stay relaxed, pushing the stone across the board. "Your move."


    Leora hesitated for half a second before picking up one of her own pieces. They played in silence, though Raine could feel her shifting in her seat, stealing glances toward the entrance.


    The heavy shuffle of boots moved deeper into the room.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Raine kept his eyes on the board, even as every nerve in his body screamed at him to look.


    Then, the sound of footsteps stopped beside their table.


    Before Raine could react, a strong hand clapped onto his shoulder.


    "There you are, boy!"


    His pulse spiked.


    A tall, broad-shouldered man with short blond hair and a confident grin dropped into the empty seat beside him.


    "You’ve been slumming it here all this time?" The stranger shook his head in mock disappointment. "Your mother would have my head if she knew."


    Raine went still.


    He didn’t know this man.


    The mercenaries had stopped nearby. Watching.


    The blond man’s grip tightened slightly, just for a second—a silent warning.


    Play along.


    Raine forced his expression to remain neutral. "Uncle," he said flatly.


    The man let out a dramatic sigh. "You always were stubborn." He turned his head slightly toward the bar. "Barkeep! A round of drinks for my nephew and me!"


    The two mercenaries exchanged looks but said nothing.


    Leora, to her credit, didn’t react. She simply stood, slipping the last of her winnings into her apron. "I’ll leave you two to catch up."


    Raine sat rigid as the man waved for drinks, chatting loudly enough for half the room to hear. Only once the barmaid placed two mugs in front of them did the blond man lean in slightly, his voice dropping just enough that only Raine could hear.


    "You need to leave the city."


    Raine’s hand stopped halfway to his drink.


    The man kept smiling, taking a slow sip from his ale. "Two days ago, a bounty was posted. Someone at the Arcanum wants you found. Badly."


    Raine fought to keep his breathing steady.


    "I don’t work for them," the man continued. "But I know the kind of people who do. If you’re still here by the end of the week, you’re going to disappear, and not in a way you’d like."


    A long pause stretched between them.


    Raine studied the man’s face. He was calm, relaxed, but there was something in his eyes—a sharpness, an edge that didn’t match the easy grin.


    "Who are you?" Raine asked quietly.


    The man gave a small chuckle. "Someone who dislikes the Arcanum’s reach."


    A non-answer.


    Raine’s fingers curled around his mug. He wanted to ask more—who posted the bounty? How many people were looking for him? How did this man know him?


    But drawing attention now was dangerous.


    The man pushed back from the table, stretching. "Well, I’ve got a room upstairs. I’d offer you a place, but something tells me you’ve got your own arrangements."


    He tossed a silver coin onto the table. "For the drinks. Consider it a parting gift."


    With that, he stood and walked away without looking back.


    Raine sat motionless, the weight of the warning pressing against his ribs.


    He had been careful. He had kept his head down.


    It hadn’t mattered.


    The Arcanum was already closing in.