Lennox and Silas both reappeared in a place they had never seen before. People were walking past them at a hurried pace and creaking carts raced along. Without missing a beat, Lennox stepped onto the sidewalk and yanked Silas up beside him, shielding him instinctively from the flow of traffic.

The alley was cleaner than the crumbling one they’d left behind, but still bore the signs of wear—walls faded with time, cracks mapping the stones like veins. Small shops lined the path, tidy and modestly kept.

Where did you bring us, Ruhan? 

You are still in Dales, if that’s what you wanted to ask.

Why not Raia or Nimit?!

Silas could hear the sigh in his head.

There is no way I am taking you to Raia and definitely not Lennox to Nimit. Make your choice.

Silas continued to walk mindlessly behind Lennox who seemed to have no questions for him, or would rather not ask them now.

What choice?

Silas, Lennox knows by now that you have the key, or rather, you are the key. He would ask you or force you soon to make that choice. Lennox has a purpose in mind. Unlike you, he is not seeking adventures!

Silas was miffed by Ruhan’s tone, or rather his words.

What choice do I even have here? I can’t take him to Nimit and I am not sure he has other uses in mind for me.

You both are being hunted. Gates are already opening in Anguth. Words spread fast. They will find you soon. 

Silas dodged the elbow of a fidgety old woman who did not like him stepping over her foot. 

‘I didn’t mean to!’ He spat after her and Lennox turned over his shoulder to look at him.

“I’m fine.” He mumbled it out of habit more than truth, the words slipping past his lips like a reflex.

Lennox didn’t press him, just kept walking, his strides confident and purposeful. Silas trudged beside him, the silence between them heavy but oddly comforting.

Wherever Lennox was headed, Silas hoped—no, prayed—it was an eatery. At this point, he’d take stale bread and cloudy soup if it meant sitting down and letting his legs stop trembling.

“If this isn’t food,” he muttered under his breath, “I might start gnawing on your coat.”

That finally earned him a glance. Lennox arched a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Try it, and I’ll feed you to Zenos instead.”

He turned around the corner and Silas followed. There, at the end of the road, stood a beautiful two storey house with rather large terraces. People were sitting in chairs, on stools enjoying their meals.

‘The place has surely improved a lot.’ Silas glanced at Lennox, noting the faint smile tugging at his lips as his eyes scanned the street like it held memories only he could see.

‘You have been here before.’ Silas asked.

Lennox nodded absently. ‘In this city built on ranks and coins, she was the only woman back then who saw a kid and thought about feeding him, rather than asking after his rank or his father. I wonder if she still runs this place.’

Silas looked up at the homely inn in front of them. There was a small white-fenced garden and beyond a small cobbled path, there was an iron gate, burdened by the hanging vines. They walked past the gate and climbed up to the terrace where an old woman sat behind the desk. Lennox’s face broke into a grin at the sight of her.

‘You are still alive, I see.’

The wrinkled face looked up from the ink and parchment spread before her, her old eyes trying to pin down the face in her foggy memories.

‘You..you are that boy with flames. Aren’t you? I see..you grew up to be a giant.’ The old woman cackled with laughter, her eyes crinkling with delight as she skirted around the desk with surprising agility.

Lennox raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest as she approached.

‘I am not a giant. You are just too small. 

She let out another laugh, unbothered by the jab, grabbed him by his arms and ushered him toward the terrace.  

‘This young master would agree with me. I am sure.’ The woman smiled, turning to Silas. ‘I am Raina Bismock. You are most welcome to ‘Li’l Cottage’.’

Silas returned Raina’s warm smile. He started introducing himself, ‘Thank you Mrs. Bismock. I am - ’

‘Ronan, you shouldn’t call her Mrs. Bismock! She is still breaking hearts.’

Silas’s smile faltered but he picked it up again. The old woman seemed clueless about the intent behind the exchange. ‘Ah..I apologise..’

‘Oh come now! You should not let Fuyan tease you like that.’ She said, seating both of them in a lush green corner from where they could see the whole street. The bell at the entrance dinged, maybe more guests, and Raina excused herself.

Another woman, younger, came to ask for their order and left soon. The sky had dimmed to a bluish grey, the first sign of dusk, yet the place was brimming with people. Silas could see why. 

He was dressed in rags but still the woman was as kind to him as she was to Lennox, whose tailored attire and polished boots cried wealth even in this city and circumstances. No wonder, Lennox did not value her enough to even share his real name. Silas knew how rare such kindness was. Or maybe Silas was not worried about the old woman at all.

He sat hunched over, hands clasped between his knees, eyes distant, face carved with something too complicated to name.

‘Why do you look like someone stole your horses?’ Lennox asked, lips lifted in a smirk but there was an edge of concern in his voice.

‘They didn’t steal my horses,’ he murmured. ‘They just rode them straight into the fire.’

‘What?’ Lennox exclaimed, genuinely confused.

Silas just shook his head as if nothing had been said.

Then - 

‘Just wondering what a person has to do before they can win an Archon’s trust.’

‘Which Archon are you talking about?’ Lennox asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

‘Let’s start with you. Does the old lady need to tear open her heart or something for you to even share your real name?’ Silas asked, something deep and vulnerable in his voice. ‘Does this insensitive act of yours not discredit her memories of you? She remembered you, even after all these years, after meeting so many people almost every day.’

‘What do you want me to do?’ Lennox asked flatly. His eyes held a challenge that told Silas to venture carefully.

Silas shook his head.

‘Nothing.’ 

He had overstepped his boundaries. He forgot that Lennox was an Archon. His people worshipped the ground he walked on. A God had descended to protect him as own. He was not hungry for love and attention like Silas. Silas could die here today and no one back home would even notice. Erie might but no one else. His emotions were really all over the place today.

After a brief pause, he spoke up again.

‘What do you want from me? You are no fool to trust every word I say. Your trust is too expensive to be afforded by someone like me. So why am I here? Why did you let Zenos save me when you knew doing that would cause you to be stuck in a hostile place like this?’

Lennox all but stared at him, peeling away the layer beneath his calm facade. His fingers drummed along the table, baiting Silas’s every heartbeat.

‘Why do you think I saved you?’ He asked finally. 

There he was playing with words, evading the real answers. Either he did not know himself or he was just wearing him down.

‘It doesn’t matter what I think, your hi-’

‘You can call me Lennox.’ He offered and Silas did not argue. He needed answers that he did not want Lennox to evade. 

‘Lennox. It doesn’t matter what I think. I already told you everything I could. I still don’t know what you want.’

‘It matters, Silas. More than you think.’

‘Don’t ask me to choose sides - ’

‘You already did. It is only a matter of time before you realize that and I am willing to wait.’

‘What do you even mean?’

‘Silas, you should know that I know that you are being protected by a spirit that is guiding you. I know about him if Zenos knows about him. I feel what he feels. A spirit that can take you anywhere on Altea, including parallel dimensions like Nimit. So what are you still doing here?’

Silas froze.

The words hadn’t even fully landed, but something in Lennox’s tone—too steady, too certain—struck like a blade between his ribs. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just stared, wide-eyed, as though the floor had vanished beneath him.

Lennox knew.

He was not expecting him to know about Ruhan but he should have. Zenos was there along with him. If Lennox could feel, whatever Zenos did, there was no way it could be hidden. Did Ruhan know that?

Hardly matters to me. I am not scared of either of them.

Sure you aren’t. 

Silas felt the echo again inside his head. If Lennox knew all that, then -  

‘If you know him, then you know that he would not leave Zenos behind.’ 

And Silas would not leave behind Lennox.

‘Fair enough.’ Lennox shrugged. ‘He could still have ferried us both out, just not to the same place. You could still escape.’

Silas would not want that either. He was like a child playing with fire, attracted by the beauty of it, but did not know yet what being burnt felt like.

‘Fine. My apologies. I do not want you dead.’ Silas gritted out the words, royally pissed at Lennox’s attempt to goad him. ‘I stayed back to warn you - ’

Lennox cut him off. 

‘How? That's another question, Silas. Isn’t it now? Why are you so confident that you can help? You claim to be an innocent runner. I know enough about Nimit to know that runners are common folks who play nothing more than petty tricks. Unless you are like Erie, a spell-weaver disguised as a runner, you could not possibly know what spell they were casting.’

Lennox’s accusation had a ring of truth in them. Spells were woven by words that were never spoken out loud. There was no way of knowing with certainty about the spell that was being cast. They were not like rituals. Could he exactly tell him that he could see spells without him doubting him more about any hidden agendas? 

Silas himself could not explain why he was the way he was. He should not be greedy. At least Lennox believed he was not lying. Just hiding things. And didn’t that street work both ways?

‘Fair enough.’ Silas mimicked Lennox’s tone. ‘Trust is a two way road. So, what did they steal from you Lennox? Everyone know, magic of Raia is unique. It comes from blood. No Seals, no Sigil or Spell are required by Royals. How does taking that jewel away make you weak then? And how could someone like Erie steal such an important thing from you?’

Silas was expecting some sort of reaction from Lennox. Maybe alarm or shock or even a good shaking at his open defiance of authority. But there was none.

Silas felt a pool of anxiety swirling in his stomach. He felt like he was enacting a script written by someone else.

‘Fine.’ Lennox quipped. ‘If you want to know.’