For a moment, neither of them moved. The rain fell between them like a curtain.

  Then, Cassandra turned and continued down the street with quiet footsteps, her mask sliding into place. Kael stood where he was, staring after her. Her pain echoed in the space she left behind until he finally followed her, his expression unreadable.

  They walked in silence, winding through narrow alleys and weather-worn streets. Their breath formed faint clouds beneath their hoods. The rain didn’t let up. Instead, it fell harder, as if intent on sinking into their bones.

  Eventually, Kael slowed. The houses were smaller, with wood rotting in places and stone chipped and worn. The uneven cobblestones beneath their boots were covered in puddles that gathered between them like thin pools of mercury.

  The outer district, he realized.

  He looked over at Cassandra. She didn’t answer his unspoken question, but her light nod beneath the hood confirmed it.

  Kael let his gaze wander until it stopped.

  At the far end of the street, a man was slumped against a wall. His clothes were soaked through and plastered to his skin like heavy grief. His eyes stared ahead, empty and devoid of color or life. He was a ghost in a living body.

  Cassandra followed Kael’s gaze and murmured, bored, "Never seen a homeless person before? They’re quite common here.”

  Her clinical, detached tone unsettled him.

  “Don't you feel anything when you see someone like that?” Kael asked quietly. “Not even pity?”

  Cassandra lifted one shoulder in a cold shrug. "This empire ensures everyone's basic needs are met, even those from here." Her gaze flicked to the man with idle disdain. "If he's sitting in the rain like this, he either gambled away what he had or broke a law and was expelled from the support system. Choices have consequences.”

  She turned to him, her voice sharpening. "Don't judge someone's circumstances without knowing their story. I thought you understood that. Apparently, you don’t.”

  Without waiting for a response, she continued down the street, ignoring the man entirely.

  Kael stayed where he was, his eyes still fixed on her. She isn’t wrong, but that doesn’t make this sight any less cruel.

  He stepped toward the man.

  The man didn’t move or blink as Kael knelt beside him. Rain struck Kael’s hood and rolled down his arm as he reached into his cloak. He placed a silver coin in the man’s open palm and spoke softly.

  “Here. Just try to stay warm.”

  When the coin touched the man’s palm, something flickered behind his dull eyes. A faint spark—fragile, yet real.

  “...Thank you, young man,” the old man whispered. His voice was rough and trembling yet overflowing with quiet gratitude that seemed too great for such a small gift.

  Kael offered a gentle nod, warmth stirring in his chest, and turned back toward Cassandra, who was watching him. Her gaze was unreadable and calculating.

  He met her gaze and shrugged softly. "Even if you're right, does it ever hurt to do something good?"

  Cassandra didn’t answer at first. Her eyes lingered on him. They were no longer cold, but thoughtful and conflicted. Then, without a word, she turned and went to the old man herself.

  Kael watched as she knelt, reached into her cloak, and placed a shining gold coin into the old man’s trembling hand. The man’s breath caught. Disbelief widened his eyes, and his lips quivered as he stuttered a prayer or blessing that Kael couldn’t hear over the sound of the rain.

  Cassandra lifted a hand gently and awkwardly, as if trying to steady the man’s shocked gratitude, not dismissively. Then she rose and walked back toward Kael.

  She didn’t stop when she reached him; she simply brushed past him, her hood low.

  As she passed, he heard her murmur softly, almost to herself: “Good deeds, huh?”

  There was the faintest tug of a smile on her lips, gone as quickly as it came.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Kael watched her go, the rain pooling at his feet. Then he followed. They walked side by side again, but something invisible had shifted just slightly between them.

  They continued down the slick, cobbled streets until the buildings opened onto a wide square. A market space, Kael thought. The stalls were closed at this hour, their empty frames and wet canvases swaying like abandoned sails.

  Kael lifted his gaze. The rain had finally ceased, and pale sunlight broke through the clouds in gentle shafts, warming the earth with soft gold light. He breathed in as calm settled in his chest.

  Beside him, Cassandra tilted her face upward, her eyes closed and her lips curved into a serene, unguarded smile as the sunlight brushed her skin. For a moment, she looked almost like someone else. Not the sharp-tongued noblewoman or the calculating mind behind a silk mask, but simply a girl remembering how it felt to breathe.

  She felt his gaze and opened her eyes again. The warmth faded, replaced by a faint, apologetic softness.

  "Sorry," she murmured. "For earlier. Rain always makes me...difficult."

  Kael shook his head gently. "No, pain doesn't make you weak, Cassandra. Speaking it out loud makes you brave. Those memories. They hurt, but they shaped you."

  For a moment, her expression softened, looking almost fragile.

  "I'll help you find your memories, too," she said quietly. "I promise."

  A small smile tugged at Kael’s lips. “Thank you.”

  He turned toward the square, where life had resumed beneath the clearing skies. “So, what now?”

  Cassandra pointed across the busy market to a narrow storefront whose wooden sign swayed in the damp breeze.

  "That shop," she said. “The owner is... peculiar. But he has rare ingredients, and he claims to know formulas from lost ages. Most alchemists visit him eventually.” Her eyes flickered to Kael. "Astra may have come here, too."

  Kael’s pulse quickened. Lia’s words returned: Professor Nora, Astra, and this same shop. A thread. Finally...a thread.

  “Then let’s see it.”

  They crossed the lively marketplace, weaving past vendors calling out prices and children splashing through puddles left over from the rain. When Kael pushed open the shop door, a brass bell chimed overhead.

  The world changed in an instant.

  Scents crashed over him: Sharp herbs, bitter smoke, sweet floral essences, something metallic, something burning, and something ancient. The air was thick and alive, humming with strange alchemical energy.

  Kael flinched, instinctively raising a hand to his nose.

  Cassandra chuckled at his expression. "Yeah, I reacted the same way my first time here. Give it a moment; your senses will adjust eventually.”

  Kael waited, breathing shallowly, until the overwhelming blend of scents dulled into something tolerable. He nodded. Cassandra answered with a small, knowing smile and led him deeper into the shop.

  Rows upon rows of jars and vials filled with herbs hung from the ceiling. There were thousands of leaves, flowers, roots, and powders, each labeled in a neat hand.

  Veilstem...Nullroot...Asterleaf...

  Kael frowned slightly. I've never heard of any of these.

  He stopped when he noticed a man hunched over a table in the far corner, whispering softly as his fingers brushed over petals and stems.

  As Kael approached, the murmurs sharpened into words.

  "There you are, my lovely. Radiant as always. I hope your brothers didn’t torment you last night,” he cooed, gently stroking a crimson blossom as though it might respond.

  Kael shot Cassandra a look: Are you sure we shouldn't leave? But she only shook her head, amused, and stepped forward.

  “Mr. Augs,” she called softly.

  The man spun around so fast that it looked as if he’d only just remembered that customers existed. His eyes widened at first, unfocused, then lit up when they found Cassandra.

  "Miss Cassandra," he said, his voice bright enough to slice through the heavy air. "Jasmine, pearl powder, and white sandalwood. Elegant, as always. It is a fragrance that does not visit a room. It rules it."

  He dipped his head with theatrical reverence.

  Then, his gaze slid to Kael.

  It sharpened.

  The jovial twinkle disappeared for a moment, replaced by a searching gaze that seemed ancient. He stepped around Kael as if he were an artist inspecting a marble statue for hidden cracks.

  "Cedarwood," he whispered. "Sage...and a touch of honey leaf. Restraint wrapped around warmth. Curious."

  He stopped in front of Kael. Too still. Too attentive.

  “And your name, young man?”

  "Kael," he answered uncertainly under that strange scrutiny.

  Augs murmured, "Kael...yes. That name fits." Something flickered behind his eyes—recognition? Amusement? Alarm? It vanished before Kael could identify it.

  In an instant, Augs’s eccentric cheer returned, like a curtain dropping over a stage.

  "Well!" he exclaimed, his voice booming. “How may I assist two rare flowers such as yourselves today?”

  Cassandra’s expression shifted back to a polite, porcelain composure. "I enjoy visiting your establishment, Mr. Augs," she said with a faint smile. "But today, I'm here for him." She tilted her head toward Kael. "A...companion of mine."

  She hesitated, as if unsure whether that was the right word.

  "A friend of him has gone missing," she continued, her tone softening and growing somber. “He is concerned.”

  Augs's merriment dimmed slightly. His eyes, unusually calm now, settled on Kael.

  "And how might this humble merchant assist you?" he asked, his voice polite but probing.

  Kael stepped forward, steadying his voice.

  "We heard she came here," he said. "After she disappeared from the academy. Her name is Astra.”

  Augs’ eyes widened—just a flicker, but unmistakable. Recognition. A shadow passed across his gaze before his features softened again.

  "Ah, Lady Astra," he murmured. "White rosemary... frost like a mountain peak at dawn... and moon-grown herbs." He smiled faintly, as if savoring a memory only he could taste. "Yes, I remember her."

  But then the smile fell away.

  "However," he continued, shaking his head gently, "she hasn't visited my shop lately. I'm afraid I can't help you any further."

  Kael bowed his head slightly. His tone was respectful. Real. "That alone helps. Thank you.”

  Cassandra turned without a word and headed toward the door, her cloak whispering across the floor.

  "There's nothing else we can do," she said in a steady voice, and stepped outside.

  Kael moved to follow her, but a soft breath brushed his ear. A whisper, delicate as falling dust.

  "Now, observe. Stay alert.”