Chapter Seven
The Cloak and the Current
The city of Velmora stood like a contradiction carved into stone—ancient spires rose beside humming neon glyphs, cobbled streets gave way to rail-lines powered by silent runes, and sky-lanterns drifted above bustling marketplaces filled with voices from every corner of the fractured world. Here, medieval charm met the pulse of arcane-driven innovation. It was a place where magic and machinery walked hand-in-hand, and the shadows of the past flickered behind digital veils.
Kael, sixteen once more and wrapped in a travel-stained cloak, walked beside Mara. Her face remained hidden beneath a deep hood, the weight of what had come before pressing silently between them. She hadn't spoken much since Valerion. What was left of her was a tangle of pain and mystery Kael couldn't yet unravel.
He didn't press her.
They were travelers now—seeking rest, anonymity, and a sliver of clarity in the chaos of the world unraveling.
The Silver Kettle, a modest inn near the heart of the city, offered warmth, food, and hopefully, a quiet bed. They entered to the scent of roasted meat and burnt ale, and the dull hum of arguments and laughter. It was the kind of place where adventurers nursed bruises and bragged about contracts that never quite paid enough.
Kael scanned the room quickly. Too many eyes lingered on Mara's cloaked form. He placed a hand gently on her back to guide her toward the bar.
A crash of splintering wood broke the buzz of conversation.
In the far corner, a young man—a demi-human with short silver-blue hair, wolf-like ears twitching as if listening to another dimension—was laughing while being held by the collar against the wall by four huge adventurers.
"Come on, boys," he said through a grin. "It's not really debt if you didn't shake hands on it, right?"
"Where's our money, freak?" growled the leader of the group, a man who looked like he ate nails for breakfast.
Mara flinched beside Kael. The attention on her was growing as others turned to watch the fight unfold.
Kael sighed. He really hadn't wanted a scene.
"Stay here," he whispered.
As he stepped forward, someone in the crowd laughed. "What's the little pipsqueak think he's gonna do?"
Kael didn't answer. At sixteen, and post-awakening shrinkage, he wasn't exactly intimidating.
But appearances lied.
He moved like a shadow cutting through mist. Aethra's Sight ignited in his vision—moments stretched and fractured into glimpses of what would be. The first brute raised a fist—Kael sidestepped before it even moved. His hand shot forward, slamming into a pressure point near the man's shoulder. The brute dropped, twitching.
Two more came swinging wildly. Kael twisted beneath the first punch, driving a knee into one attacker's ribs. The other tried to grab him—Kael ducked, twisted his arm, and used the man's momentum to send him tumbling into a table.
The last stood blinking, unsure.
Kael simply stared.
The man turned and fled.
Everyone in the room went still. Then applause.
The demi-human dusted himself off with exaggerated flair. "Thanks for saving me, small hero," he said, grinning. "I was just about to win that one. Dramatic timing, ten outta ten."
Kael rolled his eyes but smiled slightly. Mara approached, still cloaked.
"Name's Kael," he offered.
"Zerai," the man said with a small bow. "And this charming cloak phantom?"
"Mara," Kael said, protective.
Zerai caught the tone and backed off with a playful shrug. "Fair enough."
Kael leaned in slightly. "You know this city well?"
Zerai scratched his chin, ears twitching again. "Well enough to know a guy who knows a lady who probably knows what that glow on your palm means."
Kael's pulse quickened. "Where can we find her?"
"Ah, see, there's the thing." Zerai winked. "She's a bit of a recluse. Lives under the city—like under under. In the Labyrinths. To get in? You gotta be registered adventurers of Velmora. Big bureaucracy thing."
Kael nodded slowly. "Then that's our next step."
Zerai raised a brow, clearly impressed. "You're serious?"
Kael met his gaze. "Do we look like we have time to waste?"
Zerai looked at Kael again, something serious flickering in his eyes. He nodded.
"Alright. I'll help you get set up." He flashed a grin. "But I do take tips. Coin, secrets, or a hot meal. I'm flexible."
Kael replied ."We'll see what we can spare."
As the three of them left the inn together, the city lights cast long shadows behind them. Somewhere beneath the cobblestones, secrets stirred. And with every step they took, Kael's fate wound tighter with the veil of the Accord.
The journey was far from over—but at least now, they had a direction.
And a new, unpredictable ally.
Continue to chapter VIII...