After the magical display, my family regrouped—Haela sopping wet after falling into the river while Ronan was distracted by the archbishops magic—and we headed back to the manor. Over the next few days, we took part in as many events and games as we could until the festival finally came to a close on my seventh birthday.

Until now, all my birthdays had been small family gatherings in our cosy home in Damerel, but this time, I was showered with gifts and treated to a much grander celebration, mostly thanks to Julius. Along with what felt like an entire wardrobe’s worth of new clothing, I received some presents I was actually pleased with—a book on water magic from my parents and a magical silver brooch from Julius, which he called ‘Severance’. When infused with a small amount of mana, the brooch detached and unfolded into a sword sized perfectly for me. Another pulse of mana would return it to its original form. The weight of it in my hands was unfamiliar but comfortable, and as I tested it, a strange sense of attachment formed—like it truly was my first weapon.

After receiving the presents, we sat down for lunch in the manor.

“Everyone packed their things?” Freya asked, swallowing a bite of food. “We’re leaving as soon as we finish eating.”

Haela pouted, swinging her legs wildly as she pushed against the table, unable to sit still. “No, I don’t want to go home. Grandpa’s houses are better.”

Freya sighed, setting down her cutlery. “Haela, we don’t live in Damerel anymore. Stop fidgeting and eat your food.”

“We all agreed to live with Grandpa, remember?” Ronan reminded her. “I’m the only one going back to Damerel, and that’s just to move our belongings.”

“Yay!” Haela, suddenly happy again, picked up her fork and started playing with her food.

“Actually…” Chione hesitating, glancing around the table. “Could I go with Dad? I want to go back to Damerel, even if it’s only to get our things.”

Haela immediately shot up from her seat. “Oh yes me too, me too, I wanna go back with Chione!” she declared, completely contradicting her earlier sentiment.

My parents paused, exchanging surprised glances. Julius took a small sip of his wine, watching the scene unfold with an air of amusement.

“You both want to go with your father?” Freya asked.

Chione and Haela nodded.

“It’d be good to see the town one last time,” I added, leaning back in my chair.

“I suppose it wouldn’t be a problem if they came,” Ronan said, glancing at Freya for confirmation.

“In that case, it’s settled,” she said. “Grandpa and I will return to the capital while the rest of you go to Damerel.”

Ah? I blinked in surprise and glanced around the table. Why am I also going? I meant it’d be good for them, not me. But since the conversation had already moved on, all I could do was let out a quiet sigh and return to eating my lunch in silence.

After we’d finished eating, we parted ways with Freya and Julius, boarding a carriage escorted by a trio of guards and beginning our journey back to Damerel. I spent most of the ride absorbed in my new book on water magic.

Hours passed before we reached our only stop along the way—Gilramore.

This time, instead of returning to the same inn we had stayed at on our way to the capital, we stayed in a much grander one renowned as the best in the city, with a dedicated space for our carriage. Compared to the inns of Eryndrel, it was not that impressive and hardly appropriate for a noble family, being surrounded by crumbling buildings and dark, dangerous alleys. The guards were visibly more on edge here than they had been in Perlshaw, a reminder of the attempted mugging from our last visit—along with the kidnapping I had witnessed from our previous inn.

We had a quick, late dinner before retiring to our rooms, with our guards and carriage driver staying in the suite next to ours. As we had arrived late, Ronan told us we could sleep in, and that we would leave mid-morning.

Like before, I had a bedroom to myself, one with a window overlooking a vast stretch of the city. I could still hear the clamor of late-night vendors and see the scattered lantern lights flickering weakly against the encroaching shadows. It had been just over two weeks since we were last in Gilramore, yet the city seemed even more worn and hostile than before. However, as we weren’t staying long, I wasn’t particularly worried and fell asleep with ease.

Morning came with soft daylight filtering through the gap in my curtains. Grumbling, I dragged myself out of bed and threw them open, revealing a sky thick with clouds and a city already in motion. The muffled voices of the bustling streets reached me through the glass as throngs of people passed below. Judging by the sun’s position, I had already slept through the early morning. Watching the city for a while, I spotted what seemed to be a protest in a faraway street getting dissolved by some city guards.

I attached my new brooch to my shirt and spent half an hour reading the book on water magic before leaving my room to meet up with the rest of my family. Haela was still asleep when we were ready to leave for breakfast, so Ronan had to wake her. By the time everyone was set, and Ronan was carrying a very sleepy Haela on his back, we met up with the guards and left the inn, the carriage driver staying behind to prepare.

Navigating through the morning crowd, we found a small cafe for breakfast. Though the building itself didn’t seem particularly well-maintained, the food seemed quite appetising, which was a promising sign. Everyone except Haela had scrambled eggs on toast with bacon, sausages, and a few pastries, while Haela, after much pleading, got pancakes with maple syrup.

Once we’d finished eating, I noticed that despite begging Ronan to buy her two, Haela had only eaten one pancake. “You’re wasting food,” I scolded her before taking it for myself. 

“But you didn’t finish your ice cream that one time,” she protested.

“Ice cream isn’t proper food. No one should eat it in the first place,” I said between bites.

“That’s not fair!” she yelled. “Dad, tell him that’s not fair.”

Ronan, who had just finished his meal and hadn’t been paying attention, looked up. “What’s not fair?” he asked.

Haela let out a dramatic harrumph, crossed her arms, and turned away.

After settling the bill, we made our way back onto the busy street, heading towards the inn where we’d left our belongings. Ronan and one of the guards led the way, while the other two flanked us, one on either side. The morning air was thick with the scent of street food, but as we pushed through the crowd, a different sound cut through the usual bustle—the distant yelling of angry voices.

We slowed as we neared what seemed to be a large commotion, stopping beside a clothing store when we finally caught sight of it. A large crowd had gathered in the middle of the road, many holding signs and banners, their voices raised in frustration. A wooden merchant’s carriage, flanked by two escorts, was blocked by the protest, while a group of city guards stood nearby, watching with uncertain expressions.

“That doesn’t look good,” Ronan murmured, taking hold of Haela’s hand.

A portly man dismounted from the carriage; his face red with fury. “Move it, would you? You’re blocking the damned road! Go protest somewhere else and stop being such a bloody nuisance!” he bellowed.

A man stepped forward from the crowd, gripping a sign that read ‘We’re people too’. “If you want us to move, then fix this city! My family is starving, and our home is in ruins—yet you greedy bastards won’t lift a finger to help!”

The merchant waved him off with a sneer. “Why should I help freeloaders? Get a job like the rest of us! Maybe if you spent less time blocking roads and more time working, you wouldn’t have anything to complain about!”

His words only fuelled the anger in the crowd. More and more protesters shouted back at him, pushing forward as their voices rose in unison. Onlookers had stopped to watch, murmuring among themselves while the protesters continued to chant in opposition to the city’s current conditions. 

Trying to move closer to Ronan, I was suddenly jostled by someone passing by. The sheer number of people—the protesters, the gawking onlookers, and the usual bustle of the city—had made it nearly impossible to move. With my short stature, I quickly lost sight of the protest itself, though I kept my eyes fixed on my family, making sure not to get separated.

“Let’s try to keep moving and get out of the crowd,” Ronan called back to us.

As we pushed forward, I noticed Chione had stopped beside me, her gaze fixed on the dirty glass display of the clothing store. She was staring mournfully at a small mannequin dressed in plain, beige clothes—the kind a young boy might wear.

She was barely a few metres away, still within reach, when the air shifted. Ronan’s expression darkened, and the protest’s distant shouting twisted into something uglier. A sudden gap in the crowd gave me a brief glimpse of the merchant’s carriage—protesters swarmed it, hammering at its sides and trying to push it over. The merchant’s escorts and the city guards had drawn their swords, bracing against the oncoming mob. A shrill scream rang out from somewhere near the carriage, piercing through the growing chaos.

Then the panic set in.

The crowd surged in all directions as people turned to flee, a stampede forming in the cramped streets.

Ronan spun towards his guards. “You, come with me. We’re going to help. You two, protect the kids,” he ordered, passing Haela’s hand to one of them before plunging into the chaos, his chosen guard close behind.

One of the remaining guards turned to check on us, only for both of us to realise Chione had been swept away by the crowd and was now struggling against the wave of bodies pushing her further away.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, I muttered a quick apology to the guards before slipping into the throng, using my small size to weave through the mass of people.

“Wait! Stop! Come back!” one of the guards called, lunging to grab me, but I was already gone.

Reaching Chione, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her along, moving with the flow of the crowd before ducking into a dark side alley.

“What the hell were you doing?” I snapped.

She turned away. “Those clothes… they were the same as Elian’s. The day he…” Her voice trailed off.

I scoffed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Chione, Elian’s dead. He’s not coming back. You need to get over it already.”

Her jaw clenched, her face darkening.

“It’s not safe here. We have to get back to the others as quickly as possible,” I said, tugging her towards the alley’s mouth. “When there’s a gap, we’ll make a run for it.”

She yanked her wrist free. “I hate you,” she muttered, stepping back into the shadows and clenching her fists, her body trembling slightly.

“Now’s not the time for—”

“I hate you!” she screamed, tears forming in her eyes. “I wish you died in that forest instead of Elian! You should just disappear and leave our lives forever!”

Then she turned and ran.

I bolted after her, but stopped short as she passed the crossroad in the backstreets and entered onto a main road on the other end of the alley. If I chased her now, she’d only run further. I needed to find Ronan.

Turning back towards the street, I froze.

Three figures had slipped into the alley, blocking the exit. The first one was a weasel-like man with greasy hair, the second tall and stocky, while the last had a long scar over one of his eyes which was a milky-white. 

“Well, well, well,” the first one drawled, stepping forward. “What do we have here? You lost, little boy?”

I spun to run the other way, only to stop dead. Two more thug-like figures rounded the corner of the alley’s crossroad, their hands immediately going to their waists and eyeing us warily when they spotted us.

Cursing under my breath, I grabbed hold of my brooch to activate Severance—

Something cracked against the back of my head, causing pain to explode in my skull. 

My vision blurred and the ground rushed up to meet me.