Before any secrets could be spilled, the lady arrived with food trays precariously balanced in her both hands. Like an art well practiced, she placed the bowls in front of them and laid down the spoons neatly next to their mats. 

Silas could smell the freshly baked bread and the aroma of spices and herbs in the air. His stomach growled loudly and his smile faltered. The two glanced his way. The woman, without a word, slid the basket of bread toward him and mortified, he ducked his head.

He grabbed the bread and ripped off a tiny chunk, dunking it in his soup. He must have looked like a street rat ogling the dishes like that. He occasionally felt his stare on his face as Lennox quietly arranged his own plates and spoons, quite amused at Silas’s expense. He sighed into his food. That seemed to have become a routine with them.

The lady left the table soon and both of them silently agreed to have their food in peace. God knew Silas was starving. 

How many days has it been since he left Nimit? Not more than a week perhaps but here he was. Caring more about a stranger he had known for just a few days than the people he had his whole life. Suddenly he was glad that he had known only a handful of people so far. 

Meeting people was nothing but trouble. There were these funny feelings in this stomach sometimes, other times there was a punch to the gut. One moment you were in the clouds, next you were massaging your buttock from that unseemly fall. And he never knew why. Why did it all affect him so much?

As Silas chewed on his food, he could hear quaint sounds coming from the streets below. Streets were rushed and cramped even on their way here but Silas noted a sudden urgency in people’s movement. Boots slapped against cobblestone with a hurried rhythm. Voices, once casual, now carried sharp edges of alarm.

He paused, spoon halfway to his mouth, and glanced toward the street. From his seat he could just make out the tops of heads moving swiftly. There was a sound of shuffling of feet beside them. The same lady had come again to refill their mugs and Raina was hot on her tail. She seemed disturbed about something. Her expression was taut, brows furrowed, lips drawn in a grim line. 

“Are you enjoying your meal? Should I ask her to bring something else?” She asked Lennox but he must have noticed the same thing Silas did.

He frowned, “No we are good. But is there something bothering you?”

“It is just not me. Whole of the city is in an uproar.” she nervously wrang her hands together. Tell me you boys have a place to stay tonight.” She asked but looking at both of their expressions, she offered, “Or you could also stay in one of my guest rooms. It is not safe out there.”

Silas felt the dread pooling in his stomach, his heart suddenly hammering against the rib cage. He did not want to hear what was coming.

“Seems like I will have to take you up on that offer.” Lennox seemed to have read into the moment. “But what’s happening out there?” he asked, his voice dropping into something taut and cautious.

Crease of her forehead further furrowed, as she took the empty chair beside them.

“There are riots happening all over the city. All the Mages have suddenly lost their powers and they are the ones who mostly make up sentries and guards. They have lost control of the city, I fear.” She dabbed her forehead with the cloth napkin and Lennox gently took her hand in his. 

Only Silas looked away, his shoulder bowed down by guilt.

“This has never happened to us before. Not in our entire history. No one knows what to do. Situation is getting worse by the second. Anyone who is crossing over into Dales is losing their powers. It’s like we have been spurned by our own Gods.” She sniffed.

Lennox’s gaze fell on Silas and unable to feign ignorance Silas avoided his eyes. He shifted in his seat, suddenly aware of how loud his heartbeat felt in his chest. He didn’t meet Lennox’s eyes. Instead, he busied himself with tearing a piece of bread, fingers moving too quickly, too nervously.

His fidgeting had given away more than he could perceive. Lennox consoled Raina and told her to stay inside tonight. They would keep her company and would stay longer if need be. Soon everyone around them started emptying out, people rushing to their home before more chaos spilled out on the street. 

Few of the travellers stayed, requesting to meet the owner of the establishment. Probably looking for boarding, now that the other places won’t remain open for long. Raina excused herself and in vain but, Silas tried to stop the nervous tapping of his foot on the floor.

As soon as she left, Lennox pressed, “What did you do, Silas?”

Silas glanced at him once and then looked away. “I did not do anything!”

“Silas” Lennox said, his voice low and tight with restraint. He leaned toward him, hoping for no eavesdropper around the corner. “Don’t try my patience. If you know something about this, then tell me. And tell me now!”

“Why do you think it’s me? I didn’t do anything!” Silas choked out, voice cracking under the weight of disbelief. He lashed out blindly, shoving Lennox back a little as hot tears streamed down his face. His whole body trembled—not with rage, but with a kind of helpless terror.

“I don’t even know what’s happening anymore,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. “Everything’s slipping. I—I can’t hold on.”

Lennox’s hands came up in a slow, measured gesture—nonthreatening, but alert. His eyes swept the dim terrace, wary of ears too curious and eyes too quick. He didn’t flinch at the outburst. He understood fear. He’d lived in it far too long to mistake it for guilt.

“Silas. Hey,” Lennox said quietly, stepping toward him. “We can’t talk here.”

He gripped Silas’s arm—not rough, but firm—and pulled him away from the table, away from the flickering overhead lights and the low murmur of the others. The shadows at the edge of the terrace swallowed them whole, muting the world to a hush.

Silas leaned against the cold concrete wall, gasping for breath, his eyes wild and unfocused.

“I didn’t do it,” he whispered again, like a mantra now. “I couldn’t have. Right? I am just a farm boy!”

Lennox exhaled slowly, his voice barely audible. “I want to believe you, Silas. God, I do. But something’s not adding up.”

From somewhere on the streets, a low metallic clang echoed. The lights flickered again. Silas flinched, and Lennox instinctively stepped in front of him.

“Whatever this is… whatever’s happening to you,” Lennox said, voice low and steady, “we have to find out before someone else gets hurt. Before you do.”

And in the darkness, something unseen moved just beyond their reach.

Lennox grabbed Silas’s hand and pulled him behind himself. They walked until a kind woman pointed them to the spare guest room Raina had promised. As soon as they stepped inside, Lennox bolted the door.

“You need to talk.”

‘There is nothing to talk about. We should just leave while we can.’ Silas shouted, while pacing the cramped room. His voice cracked under the weight of panic, and fresh tears traced down his cheeks, unheeded.

“Oh gods…” he muttered, almost to himself. “Are your powers even still working?”

“Silas, calm down and just try to—”

“I can’t try anything without making it worse!” Silas snapped, spinning on Lennox with eyes wild and rimmed red. “That’s what you don’t understand!” He was so frustrated that he wanted to pull his own hair out if that meant his thoughts would be shocked into silence.

‘I was just trying to pinch out the stream that was flowing through Darrum.’ He murmured as if talking to himself. ‘Then he punched you - and I was..I was desperate so I thought..only thought  about pinching the supply itself from that realm. And then it happened. It doesn’t mean that I did that.’ His gaze flicked to Lennox, pleading. “Tell me I didn’t.”

Lennox stared at him, eyes narrowing, trying to make sense of the chaos pouring from Silas’s mouth.

“You’re not making any sense. What do you mean, the stream flowing through Darrum?”

“The magic!” Silas barked. “His powers. I can see them, Lennox—like dots and threads. I can see spells.”

“You can see spells?” Lennox asked, stunned. “You never said that before.”

Silas scoffed, incredulous. “How else do you think I knew the spellweavers had cast a summoning spell that day?”

Lennox’s expression shifted—doubt giving way to something like realization. “So you weren’t lying.”

Silas stared at him, hurt and breathless. “Why would I lie about that?” His voice trembled again, but this time it was disbelief, not panic. “What would a lie like that even get me?” His voice rising to an octave that made Lennox snap.

“My trust. A place by my side.” His voice sharpened, rage finally surfacing. “Isn’t that what Erie wanted? How the hell do you think he got so damn close to that jewel? Why can’t you be playing the same damn game?!”

Silas reeled back as if struck. His face twisted in a flash of pain and fury.

“I know you’ve been wronged, Lennox,” he said, shaking, “but that doesn’t give you the right to treat everyone like a traitor. I never came to you—you found me, bloodied me, accused me. And even when I had every reason to walk away, I stayed. I believed you. I even protected you, however I felt I could. I turned against my own people because I thought they were the ones in the wrong.”

His voice broke. “But now I’m the liar.”

Silas turned away, a strange madness taking over his eyes. “You know what?! I’ll get you your damned jewel. And when I do… I hope I never see your face again.”

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating.

“Fine,” Lennox growled through clenched teeth. “But don’t you dare speak to me like this again—not until you’ve done what you promised.”

Silas said nothing. His jaw was tight, his chest rising and falling with shallow, furious breaths. He reached for the back of his neck, fingers finding his engraving  - one that would pull him from the room, from this cursed place, from him.

But before he could activate the Cord, the door exploded inward with a thunderous crack, wood splintering and flying across the floor.

A third voice boomed through the smoke and debris.

“Nobody’s leaving.”