The air was cold, my breath a wisp of frost in the night air. A dark sky blanketed with stars stretched above me. The streets were nearly empty, save for the occasional City Watch patrol making their rounds. And then there was me. A 12-year-old boy, sitting in front of Mantris’s shop, practicing his magic.

  A week had passed since Sister Verity’s visit, and it had now been more than three weeks since Pip had disappeared. With each passing day, my hope that she would return dwindled. Every spare moment was spent searching for her. By now, I was even paying people to keep an eye out, but to no avail. I even prayed several times a day… hoping for some divine sign. I tried everything I could think of in connection with the Soul Bond that linked me and Pip. But either I was too stupid for it, it simply didn't work anymore… or the connection was no longer… active.

  Sighing, I focused again on the miniature sphere of air I had filled with sand to make it visible. For days, I had been trying to compress it as much as I could. Then I would try to expand and shrink it as quickly as possible. But I was hitting my limits. The sphere wouldn't get any smaller, and so I sat here, simply trying to maintain it, hoping that maybe it just needed more time to compress.

  The night was bitterly cold, but I had stopped feeling it hours ago. Following Sister Verity’s advice with iron resolve, I held onto hope, though it was a somber companion. I sighed heavily and lowered my head.

  “Gods,” I whispered, “I humbly bow my head before your mercy. I pray for patience. I pray for grace. I pray for hope… but I implore you… please, grant me just a single, tiny sign that my beloved Pip is still alive…”

  But I received no answer.

  I sat for what felt like an eternity in the cold darkness, listening to the wind and the leaves dancing within it, breathing in the cool, earthy air. I watched the lanterns of an approaching City Watch patrol dance in the dark. What would I do if Pip… was gone? Would I have anything left to keep me in this world? But I had already answered that question for myself in my last life.

  The increasingly loud steps of the approaching guards pulled me from my thoughts. It's probably better if I go inside before I get in trouble for being out so late. Exhausted and drained, I forced myself to my feet.

  Just as I was about to dispel my sphere of air, I heard one of the guards say, “Hey, did you hear about the miracle in the slums? Apparently, they’re even sending someone from the Arcane Sanctum over to take a look.”

  A miracle in the slums? Puzzled, I paused and looked over at the guards.

  The other one stopped and scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I was in The Broken Shield earlier and heard about it from a few people. It used to be a hotbed of plague like no other. Everywhere you looked, there were frail, sick, or even dead people. But now, there’s supposedly no trace of that left. The people are rebuilding the slums, helping each other, and have formed a tight-knit community. And they owe it all to something they…” he trailed off, then slowly waved his raised index finger until he snapped it. “Right! That was it. They owe it to something they call the ‘Well of Solace.’ Apparently, they’ve even built a small shrine for it…” he said with a shrug.

  The two guards looked at each other with slow nods and then went on their way, their footsteps echoing in the darkness.

  Confused, I furrowed my brow. "Well of Solace…" I repeated quietly. I’ve heard that before, but from where…

  And then it hit me. A memory played out in the depths of my soul. Ithrak’s voice echoed through the abandoned temple… “…Pip, Well of Solace…”

  With wide eyes, I stared into the darkness. My whole body tensed, and my fists clenched as if in a cramp.

  < Skill improved: Air Magic (Inferior) —> (Beginner) >

  Somewhat perplexed, I looked down at my palm, where a significantly smaller sphere of air now rested. I shook my hand and dispelled the air magic.

  A wide, trembling grin spread across my face, breaking the mask of exhaustion I'd worn for weeks. A tear, hot and heavy, welled up and ran down my cheek. I was crying, not from sorrow, but from a sudden, overwhelming surge of pure joy. It certainly wasn't because my skill with Air Magic had improved.

  No… my prayer had been answered. I had received my sign. The gods hadn't abandoned me.

  Pip. She was alive. She was out there. And finally, finally, I knew where to start looking.

  My body moved on its own, without a conscious thought, my feet carrying me towards the retreating lights.

  The lanterns of the City Watch grew larger. Apparently, they had heard me, because they stopped and turned in my direction. Their free hands drifted to their sword hilts, though the blades remained sheathed for now. I slowed my pace until I was about five meters away and approached slowly, hands slightly raised to show I was no threat.

  “Good evening, esteemed guards. Forgive the late disturbance, but I have a question,” I greeted them respectfully.

  The guards just looked at each other, confused. I quietly heard one say to the other, "A boy? At this hour?" but the other just shrugged helplessly. He spoke to me, "Say, boy, what are you doing out so late? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

  Ouch. That was the reaction I was afraid of. Hmm. Tell the truth or bluff? Yep. Bluff.

  I opened my hand and conjured a stable, large, but non-threatening flame that bathed the immediate area in warm light. “Gentlemen, I am my own master and am only out at this hour due to a small… emergency. I happened to be standing by the window and overheard your conversation. Could you please tell me the way to The Broken Shield? Or, if you’re interested, I’d be happy to buy you a round if you show me the way,” I purred, rattling my coin pouch.

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  The two guards just stared at each other, dumbfounded.

  And what can I say… not five minutes later, the three of us were standing at the bar of The Broken Shield tavern.

  It was a large but somehow very cozy space. There was easily room for 200-300 people, but at this hour, maybe only twenty patrons were left, drinking quietly in the corners. At the end of the bar stood a man, presumably the innkeeper, who was drying glasses. I waved him over.

  He approached with heavy, deliberate steps that made the floorboards groan slightly. He was a middle-aged mountain of a man—muscular, with a bald head gleaming in the lamplight and a thick, dark brown beard. His steel-gray eyes scanned the room with practiced vigilance.

  Yeah… I wouldn’t want to meet this man in a dark alley. His stoic expression made it clear he was not a man to be trifled with. Whoever doesn’t pay here gets a fist to the face. Whoever doesn’t behave here gets a fist to the face. But I had no intention of testing that.

  The guards stood on my left and right but said nothing. The innkeeper's gaze swept from one guard to the other, completely bypassing me, as if I didn't exist.

  “What do you want?” he rumbled. His voice was so rough you could probably cut steel with it. But he wouldn’t hurt a child, right? So, I waved again in front of his face.

  “Hello! Down here,” I said in a friendly, cheerful voice, putting on my best smile.

  The walking mountain of an innkeeper bent down towards me, and I was a little afraid he might embed my head in the bar top. But to my absolute shock, he returned my smile with a genuine and, above all, hearty one.

  “Hahaha, hello little man. How can I help you and your friends?”

  What the hell? He’s a total softy with kids, hahaha. I had to struggle not to burst out laughing.

  Clearing my throat, I placed five clinking silver pieces on the counter. “I need information, and for my friends, please, whatever they want that this money will cover.”

  When he heard that, the innkeeper’s mouth dropped open. My gaze shifted to the guard on my left, who was just staring at me with his mouth agape. Moving to the other guard, he stammered, “Uh, th-thank you very much, my boy. That is very—very generous of you.”

  I just gave a curt nod with a smile. The innkeeper still looked a bit confused but then said again in his friendly voice, “Want to come around the bar and help me pick out the drinks? Then we’ll see if I can help you with that information, okay?”

  Nodding at the innkeeper with a cheerful smile, I walked past the guards, my steps creaking slightly on the tavern’s wooden floorboards. I went around the bar, hoping the man had information about Pip… this would be the first real lead in weeks, and maybe the confirmation that she was still alive.

  When I got behind the bar, the innkeeper gently placed his hand on my shoulder and said, loud enough for the guards to hear, “Come on, I’ve got the good stuff over here. We’ll pick out a fine vintage for your friends.” And with that, we walked to a cabinet about three meters away from the two guards.

  The innkeeper knelt in front of me as he opened the lower cabinet doors. He whispered to me, his gaze serious and stoic once more, “Did those guards force you to steal from your parents and buy them drinks with the money?”

  Tilting my head, I blinked at the man, confused. “No. What makes you say that? This is my money, and I just want to thank the guards for protecting our great city and for showing me the way to your tavern so I can get some information”

  Now he raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Kid, you don’t have to bullshit me. If those guards are forcing you to do anything, I will crush their skulls with my bare hands. So, tell me the truth.”

  I sighed heavily and rubbed my forehead, a little annoyed. “Whether you believe me or not, I’ll tell you the truth. The money I’m carrying is truly my own. Honestly earned, because I work as an Appraiser at Mantris’s Steady Coin. But Mantris said that should remain a secret, so no one kidnaps me or otherwise brings me harm."

  The innkeeper nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful, clearly processing this information. "An Appraiser... at your age. That would explain the coin."

  I took a breath and continued, pressing my point. "And now for the main point. I’ve been looking for my cat for weeks. The story behind it is complicated and even more unbelievable than what I’ve already told you. Anyway, the fact is, I overheard the guards on their patrol talking about a ‘Well of Solace’ in the slums, and now I want to know how to get there, if the stories are true, and if they are, if someone there could help me. That is the real story, and that’s why I’m here,” I explained, as credibly as I possibly could.

  But the innkeeper now looked even more incredulous than before and burst out laughing, so loud that everyone in the tavern was now looking at us.

  “You still don’t believe me?” I asked, annoyance creeping into my voice. “Have you heard of that huge scandal from House Ainsworth? The one where a small, magically gifted boy was kept as a slave and a servant of the house was murdered in cold blood? After which Lord Ainsworth was executed by the King himself. Yes?”

  The innkeeper’s brow furrowed in confusion, and he rubbed his fingers nervously together before nodding, slightly bewildered.

  Raising my hand, I conjured a beautiful flame on it, slowly adding air magic until a small, screaming jet grew in my palm. On the one hand, it annoyed me to no end to always have to flex with my magic, but it was the only way to be heard as a little boy… aside from the fact that I think it’s cool as hell, haha.

  My gaze now shifted from my spell to the innkeeper, and I said as seriously as I could, “That boy… is me. And I’m looking for my damn cat… for three weeks now, and if you don’t want to help me… then I’ll find help somewhere else…”

  I saw his face soften immediately. “Oh, gods… that’s you? I am so incredibly sorry… Sir Crownfield was here a few weeks ago and told us about it. He said it was a true shame what happened to you and that your talent would probably fade into obscurity now…”

  The man paused for a moment and then said, “My name is Jim, and I want to apologize for not believing you. But that doesn't matter for now. What’s important is that we help you. You say you're looking for your cat, and you think she’s in the slums for some reason? Then I know just the right person for you,” he explained with a sly grin.

  He heaved his massive form up and called out, waving a person over, “HUGH! Get over here.”

  Promptly, a staircase creaked, and a tall, lanky, gaunt fellow came down. He had long, dark, stringy hair that fell into his face. But you could still see his pale and sallow skin.

  “Man… don’t yell like that. My head’s about to split open from your rotgut…” the man named Hugh slurred. He looked creepy, but the way he spoke was honestly quite funny. He leaned against the bar and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “What do you want at this hour, man?”

  Jim just rolled his eyes in annoyance. “You’re taking this boy to the slums now and making sure no one gets too close to him. Understood?” Jim commanded in a tone that allowed for no compromise. But in exchange, he placed an expensive-looking bottle of liquor on the counter, which brightened Hugh’s expression.

  He snatched the bottle and said, “Got it. C’mon, shorty, let’s not waste any time.”

  With that, he headed for the exit and yanked the cork out of the bottle with a wet pop. The cork flew across the room in a perfect arc and hit a sleeping drunkard squarely on the head, who snorted awake with a surprised yelp. Hugh didn't even break stride, taking a deep swig as he pushed open the door.

  I looked at Jim. He is living proof that you should never judge someone by their appearance. I was slowly starting to realize that Aegis was a place just like any other; a place where good and bad coexisted, and where people sometimes did bad things for what they believed were good reasons.

  But time was pressing. I bowed deeply and said my goodbyes. “Sir Jim, thank you so, so much. I’ll be back soon for sure. And don’t forget to serve the guards.”

  The giant nodded at me with a smile, and I gave the guards a final wave, who waved back at me, confused. With that, I left the tavern and followed the weird Hugh through the streets until we disappeared into the darkness of the slums.