Lucen pushed a pair of clothes into his rucksack. He wouldn't be far from the castle, but it wasn't a bad idea to stay prepared.
Their small room was quiet, and only the soft sound of wind blowing against the silk curtains echoed. The Halo's weak light rose with the morning, illuminating the soft bed with white sheets and the velvet couches in the center of the room.
Selene sat on the wooden coffee table, a vaguely conflicted look on her face.
Lucen tightened the bag's rope and threw it over his back, sighing.
"Mother, not hearing your voice is deeply unsettling."
"I can't be quiet?"
"I didn't know you could go three seconds without speaking before today."
She punched his arm as he walked over to her. Lucen loomed over her in a way that made her frown deepen, and her gaze turned long.
"You stay safe out there, okay?" said Selene, "And come back home tomorrow morning. I can no longer keep you in this house, but you'll still abide by its rules."
Lucen resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing she was still sour. It had always been hard to take Selene seriously, she had been so young when he was born.
Looking back on it now, it was like she was his best friend, not that he ever had one in his past life.
But this felt like that, maybe even deeper. Like they were one person, their language, mannerisms, and thoughts were etched onto each other.
"I'm your boy, aren't I?" Lucen smiled proudly. "I promise you, I'll be back before you remember I'm gone."
Selene rose and hugged him tightly.
"I always wanted you to be a knight, like one from the stories, but every day I'm reminded of how shallow that desire was."
Her arms tightened around him, and she was so much shorter than him now. How the years pass us by.
"Promise me you'll be safe. That you'll return to me alive."
"I will always be with you when you seek me," Lucen murmured. "From now till eternity," he swore.
■——■
The road was weathered and sloped; the horizon rose and fell as Lucen trudged forward, Liam chatting away at his side.
"Castaway is really a nice place," Liam explained, "We all take care of each other, and we have high traffic from the Firegrave and the Mirrored Lake."
"I expect that last bit is to assure me this witch is credible?" said Lucen.
"I'm just saying we get a lot of mages running from the rising tension at Mirrored Lake."
Lucen nodded.
"Any news from them? Or Ur-Kal, at least."
Liam's face turned a bit grim.
"Uh… no, no news."
Lucen decided not to push the suddenly dejected boy.
Besides, they were finally there.
■——■
Castaway Valley, as Liam explained, was often home to those who could not live by the strict order of the empire and church.
They retreated here, which sat in between trade routes that led to the Mirrored Lakes, to the far vassal kingdoms, and to the capital of the Empire, Eshara.
Though things were not as good these days, trade from the Mirrored Lakes was heavily monitored, the vassal kingdoms were all in open rebellion, and Eshara was no longer the center of trade.
Quite bad, but those were just Lucen's opinions.
The road they walked on led to the top of the valley, which was covered by high stone gates. The guards at the gate greeted Liam cheerily and shrank back from Lucen's gaze—his eyes made his identity obvious.
When they crossed the gate, the full city spread below them.
Surrounded on all sides by carefully cultivated trees and patches of farmland was a bustling city. Houses with brown thatched roofs reflected the lights of the Halo. From this high, all the houses looked like brown and white dominoes.
They crossed the farmlands, and the hot and fresh scent of wheat and barley filled Lucen's nose. Various farmers rose from their work and waved at Liam, only to give him confused stares.
There were four gates at various points in the city, two suited for humans, while the others led to a huge paved road that cut right through the middle of the city and branched off into different alleys.
The place was a cascading wall of noise that he hadn't seen in fifteen years, and the smells of dung and mud wafted through the wide streets.
Liam abandoned the open street to start climbing someone's fence.
"What?" he asked, seeing Lucen's scandalous face. "They don't mind—but I do hope the Cinderhound is in its cage…"
They jumped over people's fences, greeting full families that were out back roasting meals in one backyard and a couple of playing children in another.
Before long, they reached the first destination on their journey.
An old shop of an herbalist. Dark wooden planks and vines growing across the roof, Lucen found it strangely charming.
"I'll be in and out," said Liam, "Once she gives me a general location of the sage, we'll search there and ask questions."
Lucen nodded, letting him climb up the stairs and into the shop, quietly hoping the herbalist would give them the information nicely.
He was deeply immersed in his thoughts of Ur-Kal, which was very vocal about its objection to the ascension of the Veiled King.
But if he was worried about anyone starting a war, it was the Horned Marches. This was the home of the most powerful demigod, after all; if Lucen were to bet on who tipped, he'd bet on the guy that was supposed to succeed his father.
While lost in thought, three people approached him. They were gangly and tall with sharp smirks and decent clothes.
"Never seen you before," the leader of the group remarked, "Where are you from?"
"Nowhere," Lucen replied simply, not sparing him a glance.
Their smiles faltered, and the leader walked in front, staring down at Lucen, who was a bit shorter. He faltered seeing those golden eyes and their suppressed glow.
"Lightcloak?... Why didn't you say so?"
"Please go away, I'm not looking for a fight," said Lucen.
The boys seemed rather pissed off by this. They exchanged glances among themselves, smirking.
"Aren't you the Halfblood?" One of them asked. "They didn't even give you a sword, much less a spell."
"Don't you belong down here with us?" the other quipped.
"Hey, you've been a bit rude," their leader finally said, getting into Lucen's face. "Why don't you give us something to help forgive you?"
Lucen really did hate conflict.
"Your breath is fucking horrible."
The first hand reached for his collar from the side—one of the lackeys. Lucen let out a sharp breath and felt the Life mana rush through his veins.
He grabbed the hand out of the air while simultaneously pushing the leader back.
The lackey gasped as Lucen's fingers sank into his flesh like metal rods.
The leader was thrown to the ground by the simple push, and the other lackey rushed towards Lucen.
"I don't like—" He paused to dodge the punch from the second lackey before backhanding him so hard he slumped to the ground. "—when people touch me."
Lucen squeezed a bit harder, forcing the taller man to his knees as he begged.
Then he released the hand and sidestepped a kick coming for his back. The leader looked a bit shocked that his surprise attack didn't land and charged at Lucen.
Lucen batted his clumsy blow aside and grabbed him by the neck. He waited, a bored expression on his face, as the man choked between his fingers and finally said.
"I was a bit provocative, so I'll leave you with your lives," said Lucen calmly, "But do take care to greet me as a commoner should greet a noble the next time I see you."
He let the man go, and they picked up their unconscious friend and ran away, glancing back occasionally to make sure he wasn't following.
That was weird, he thought. He had been feeling overwhelmed by the vast city, but those kind gentlemen made him feel strangely better.
The door of the shop cracked open noisily, and Liam came running down its steps. He was smiling ear-to-ear.
"I know where she is," he exclaimed, "and get this, she's selling a spell!"