Freedom smelled like damp air, poorly swept hallways, and questionable decisions.
After three failed escape attempts, Krau walked behind Alessa with the most innocent expression in his repertoire. She was speaking nonstop to her young assistant about a manuscript from the Temple.
"...and if the symbol really means 'misfortune,' then the entire passage changes. They wouldn't be chosen, but punished," she said passionately. "Do you have Codex B, Joren?"
"The B? Uh… I think I left it in the box… or maybe the other box…"
While they debated scrolls and theories that sounded like another language to Krau, he seized the moment. With the stealth of a spoiled cat, he turned a corner, descended some stairs, and vanished.
Alessa kept talking:
"...do you understand the difference between dignity and—"
Silence.
"...Krau?"
She turned slowly. Nothing to the right. Nothing to the left. Just a statue with a defeated expression.
"...Did he turn into a statue from fright!?" she shouted angrily. "Joren! How did you not see him escape!?"
"I was looking for the codex, ma'am…"
"And I told you not to trust children with nervous smiles and a history of fleeing!"
She huffed and held back a curse in High Elvish.
"That little rascal slipped away again! I'll find him. I'll tie him to a chair. And I'll read him every verse of the Elvish gospel without pauses or punctuation!"
"Ma'am… I think that's classified as torture in three provinces."
"And it should be in more."
Meanwhile, in the lower district, Krau knocked on a wooden door: three taps, a pause, one more.
"That's no longer a code. That's just noise," murmured a familiar voice from inside.
Liora opened the door. Her braid was crooked, and her eyes carried a mix of alertness and exhaustion.
"Liora!" he greeted her, stepping inside uninvited.
She shut the door forcefully and glared at him.
"Are you out of your mind? Do you know how many posters with your face are around this area? And you walk in here like nothing's wrong, with that 'wasn't me' look?"
"Did I come out that bad?"
"So bad even the neighborhood cat is looking for you."
"Then I came out decent!"
"THAT IS NOT A COMPLIMENT!"
She hit his arm—not painfully, but with weight.
"Do you realize how many people disappear for less than what you did? You steal a sacred sword, flee, get caught, and now you show up here like you came to have tea."
"Is there tea?"
"THERE IS NO TEA, NOR CAKE!"
Silence.
Liora sighed.
"I don't care what you did. But if you keep getting into trouble, at least don't bring it to my doorstep. Last time, I almost lost my job."
Krau lowered his gaze, voice quieter.
"Sorry, Liora. I had to see you. I didn't know where else to go."
She watched him for a moment. Then she huffed, grabbed a blanket, and something warm that was probably tea—or something similar.
"Stay there. Don't make a sound. And if you hear footsteps on the roof, it's not magic. It's rats. Big ones."
"Messenger rats?"
"Shut up, Krau."
Wrapped in the tattered blanket, Krau fell silent. The steam from the cup in his hands failed to warm his chest. He gazed at the apothecary in the dim light. Every corner bore marks of use, of struggle, of someone who survived without making noise. Like Liora.
He rested his forehead on his knees. For a moment, he stopped pretending.
"It wasn't just to be annoying... or to escape," he whispered.
Liora watched him from the other side of the counter, saying nothing.
"The sword… when I touched it, it felt like something inside me was screaming. I don't know if it was the mark or me. But I felt I had to do something. Like staying here would be... dying slowly."
The silence grew heavier.
"My brother thinks I'm a kid. Maybe I am. But if I don't run... I feel like I'll fade away. Like I'll become just another nameless guard. Another pawn."
Krau lifted his eyes, slightly moist, though he didn't cry.
"I don't want to be just a guard serving the king and the church. Not Darion's problem. Not yours. I want to be me. Even if I don't know who that is yet."
Liora didn't answer immediately. She stepped closer, set the cup aside, and ruffled his hair with a gentleness that contrasted with everything before.
"Sometimes, Krau… running is also a way of searching. But if you only run without looking back… you'll truly get lost."
Krau barely nodded.
From a nearby rooftop, a tall man watched the apothecary. His face was uncovered—skin tanned by the sun, gaze firm, like someone who had crossed deserts and returned with secrets. In his hand, a rune engraved in metal pulsed softly.
"The rune reacts… That little rascal is marked."
The rune glowed faintly but revealed nothing more.
"Alright, I found a marked one… now I just have to convince him. Damn it, I hate giving speeches."
The mysterious man barely smiled. Then, he stepped back and disappeared over the edge of the roof without leaving a trace.