After I retched for the fourth time into the foul sewer water, my stomach was finally, blessedly empty.

  We trudged onward through the disgusting sludge, the stench clinging to us like a second skin. Tunnel after identical tunnel branched off to the sides, dark and uninviting, each one seemingly leading deeper into the bowels of the city.

  Theo hadn't stopped whimpering since we entered the muck. Honestly, imagining walking through this filth with open wounds on my legs like his… yeah, I understood. As soon as we got out of here—assuming we did get out—he desperately needed a healer, or he might actually die from infection.

  We walked for what felt like an eternity through the oppressive, dripping darkness, the only sounds our splashing footsteps and Theo's quiet misery.

  Then, up ahead, I thought I saw a faint light.

  Finally… escape?

  But as we drew closer, my initial hope faded. The light wasn’t the soft, steady glow of dawn filtering through a grate. It was brighter, harsher, flickering slightly. And besides, the guards locked me in the cellar just as night fell. It couldn’t possibly be morning yet.

  Still, it was the only point of interest in this miserable tunnel. We approached cautiously.

  Slowly, sounds began to reach us over the gurgle of sewer water. Voices. Rough, indistinct chatter coming from the direction of the light.

  I gently put a hand on Theo’s arm, stopping him. “Theo,” I whispered urgently, “I know it’s hard, but please try to be quiet now. We don’t know who or what is up there where the light’s coming from, okay?”

  Theo looked at me with those endlessly sad, exhausted eyes, shadowed by pain, but gave a weak, jerky nod.

  The main sewer tunnel continued straight ahead, but the light and the voices were coming from a branching passage off to the right. Straining my ears, I could make out snippets of conversation now.

  “How much longer do we have to hide down here in this shithole?” a rough, irritated voice complained.

  There was the distinct sound of a slap, followed by angry hissing. “Idiot! Until the heat dies down with the City Watch, obviously! What did you think? That they’d just ignore us stealing magic crystals right from under the Royal Court Mage’s nose?” barked a second, sharper voice.

  Shit. Bandits? Thieves? Hiding out down here?

  That was just perfect. Dealing with armed criminals was the last thing I needed right now.

  Carefully, holding my hand-flame low, I risked a quick peek around the corner. The passage widened slightly into a small junction chamber, lit by a couple of sputtering torches jammed into cracks in the wall. About ten men, maybe a dozen, lounged around on sacks and crates, all clad in worn leather armor. Various weapons—swords, axes, crude clubs—leaned nearby or were held loosely in their hands.

  Definitely not friendly faces. Oh no, I had absolutely no desire to get involved with this.

  Luckily, they seemed entirely focused on their own argument, occasionally shoving each other or spitting into the murky water. They hadn't noticed us.

  I pulled back quickly and nodded sharply at Theo, pointing straight ahead down the main tunnel we were already in. We moved as silently as possible, hugging the slimy wall opposite the junction, past the opening where the bandits were arguing. My heart pounded with every squelching step, expecting a shout, a challenge, but none came.

  Thank the gods. Nobody saw us.

  We slipped past unnoticed and hurried deeper into the darkness of the main tunnel, putting distance between us and the hidden outlaws. We walked quickly for another five minutes or so, the bandits' voices fading behind us, until we reached another intersection… a four-way crossing this time.

  Okay, now what?

  I held my flame higher. Straight ahead looked like more endless tunnel. The passage to the right seemed identical. To the left, though… it looked like a small alcove or dead end just a few meters down.

  Maybe worth checking?

  I cautiously approached the left alcove and found… a ladder. Rusted iron rungs set into the damp stone wall, leading upwards into blackness. Could this be it? A way out? I craned my neck, looking straight up.

  Yes! Faint beams of light slanted down from above, filtering through small holes. Must be a manhole cover up there. Gods, finally!

  “Theo,” I said, turning back to him. He looked ready to collapse. “Can you please go first? I have to carry Pip, and I won’t be able to push the cover open with one hand while holding on.”

  That was all the motivation he needed. Without a second’s hesitation, Theo grabbed the first slippery rung and started climbing, panic giving him a burst of strength. I watched him go, grimacing as brown sludge dripped from his boots onto the rungs below.

  Yeah, definitely waiting until he’s clear.

  Theo scrambled upwards with surprising speed. I heard him grunt with effort as he reached the top, the sound of metal scraping against stone. Then, with a final groan and a loud CLANG, the heavy iron manhole cover was shoved aside, falling onto the surface above.

  Fresh air! "Good job, Theo!" I called up, relieved.

  “Pip, hold on tight, okay?” I murmured, adjusting her position on my arm. A slightly annoyed meow was my only reply. Poor Pip… the stink down here must be ten times worse for her.

  Taking a firm grip on the slimy rungs, I started the awkward, strenuous climb upwards, my muscles protesting, one hand holding Pip, the other finding purchase on the ladder.

  As I neared the top, cool, clean, blessedly non-stinking night air washed over my face. Just before I reached the surface, Pip decided she'd had enough and leaped gracefully from my arm onto the ground above. I hauled myself up the last few rungs and emerged from the hole, blinking in the relative brightness of torchlight…

  Only to find myself immediately surrounded by drawn swords.

  City Watch guards, at least half a dozen of them, had their weapons pointed directly at us, their faces grim and hostile in the flickering light. Theo was whimpering on the ground near the open manhole, knees pulled tightly to his chest, rocking back and forth in a traumatized ball. Pip, utterly unfazed, sat calmly a few feet away, meticulously cleaning the sewer stench from her fur.

  We were in some kind of paved courtyard, surrounded by high stone walls. It looked like barracks, or maybe part of a guard post. My brief moment of relief vanished, replaced by a surge of adrenaline as I was brutally yanked back to reality.

  “HALT! What’s this then?” one of the guards, clearly the one in charge, barked, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he took in our sewer-drenched state. “Filthy brats crawling out of the sewers have no business here! Or are you the thieves, eh? Sneaking back to return the loot now the heat’s on?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  My eye started twitching again. Seriously? After everything?

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  “My name is Grim,” I stated, trying to keep my voice steady despite the swords aimed at my throat. “Adept under Marchioness Ainsworth and Baron Ainsworth. And this,” I gestured towards the huddled form on the ground, “is Theo, a kitchen boy from the Ainsworth estate.”

  The lead guard apparently didn’t believe a word of it. He scoffed loudly. “An Adept of House Ainsworth? Crawling out of a sewer looking like that?”

  Before I could react further, he lashed out with a brutal backhand slap, his heavy gauntlet connecting hard with the side of my face.

  Pain exploded in my head. Stars burst behind my eyes as I was thrown sideways, stumbling and falling hard onto the stone paving. My head felt like it was splitting open, the agony radiating from my jaw so intense it almost made me black out. A simple slap shouldn't have been this devastating.

  Something warm and wet immediately started trickling down my face. Blood. Damn it, that hurt. Pip hissed aggressively at the guard who’d hit me.

  My thoughts were interrupted as the guard loomed over me, pressing the tip of his sword against my throat.

  “You, a mage of House Ainsworth? Don’t make me laugh, you filthy gutter rat! You should be executed for such impudence!” He pressed the blade harder, just enough to break the skin. I felt a sharp sting and the terrifying warmth of more blood trickling down my neck.

  Okay, okay, panic later. He was serious. I had to bluff my way out of this, fast.

  Slowly, deliberately, I raised my free hand, the one not pressing against my bleeding cheek, and opened my palm. Concentrating past the throbbing pain, I summoned fire. A small flame flickered to life.

  The guards looked momentarily surprised, shifting slightly, but mostly unimpressed.

  Right. Need more.

  I focused again, drawing on the Air Magic skill, feeding it into the fire. The small flame swelled, intensified, morphing into a roaring jet of fire erupting from my palm with a high-pitched, shrieking sound like a gas burner. The heat washed over my face.

  “I am Grim, of House Ainsworth, and not some gutter rat,” I said, my voice sharp, cutting through the noise of the flame, glaring up at the guard holding the sword to my neck. I saw his eyes widen slightly behind his visor, a flicker of surprise, maybe even fear, replacing the scorn.

  I pressed my advantage. “And if you’re looking for the stolen magic crystals belonging to the Royal Court Mage, you should try searching down there,” I nodded towards the open manhole, keeping the fire jet steady. “In the sewers. And now, you will let us go, send a messenger immediately to House Ainsworth, and get a healer for the boy.”

  The guard hesitated, his sword wavering slightly. He glanced at the roaring flame in my hand, then back at my face, then at his men, who were muttering uneasily amongst themselves. Slowly, reluctantly, he lowered his sword.

  I immediately let my magic dissipate, the roaring flame vanishing, plunging us back into the dimmer torchlight. My hand throbbed from the effort.

  The lead guard stammered, clearly flustered, “H-how… how did you know about the magic crystals?”

  I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed ‘isn’t it obvious?’.

  “Because,” I said cuttingly, “we just sneaked past a junction down there where about ten heavily armed men in leather armor were arguing about how long they needed to hide from the City Watch after stealing them. Go down this ladder, turn right at the first main tunnel, follow it until the next major junction, take the left fork. You’ll find your bandits.” I pointed definitively towards the manhole.

  The guard nodded slowly, looking confused and maybe slightly ashamed now. He turned to his men, regaining some authority.

  “You!” he pointed at one. “Send a rider to House Ainsworth now! Inform them their Adept is here and requires a healer for the boy! You!” he pointed at another. “Assemble a squad, full gear! We’re raiding the sewers! And you,” to a third, “inform the Royal Court Mage what’s happened! And you two,” he finished, pointing at me and Theo, “stay right here until this situation is clarified. You can sit on that bench over there. Understood?” His voice was back to its commanding tone.

  My face throbbed, and blood was still dripping, but I managed a polite bow. “Understood, Sir,” I replied, my swollen cheek making it hard to speak clearly.

  Two different guards then escorted us—all of three meters—to a simple wooden bench against the courtyard wall. Some service. Theo collapsed onto the ground beside the bench, curling up again, while I carefully sat down, pulling Pip onto my lap. She immediately started purring, a loud, vibrating rumble against my chest.

  I felt a familiar warmth spread through my body from her presence, and slowly, the bleeding from my cheek and neck seemed to lessen, though the blood still stuck crustily to my face and tunic. My boots and pants were caked in sewer filth, my tunic stained with blood… what a completely shitty day.

  Nothing to do now but wait…

  I heard one of the guards nearby yawn loudly. The adrenaline faded, leaving bone-deep exhaustion in its wake. Despite the hard bench and the cold night air, I eventually nodded off, slumped against the stone wall.

  It felt like hours later when the first rays of dawn painted the sky above the courtyard walls. Warm sunlight hit my face, waking me. I yawned hugely, stretching stiff, aching muscles. Pip leaped gracefully from my lap and stretched too, arching her back.

  My gaze fell on Theo… he hadn’t moved much, still huddled beside the bench, but now lying partially uncurled. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. My gaze dropped to his legs… and my stomach clenched. The bite marks weren’t just red anymore; they were swollen, inflamed, oozing thick yellow pus around the edges…

  Shit. Infection. Bad.

  He looked terrible. Poor kid. I felt a surge of pity, but there was nothing I could do for him right now. We just had to wait for the Ainsworths and their healer. As much as I wanted to help him, I couldn't risk having Pip heal him yet. What would be the point? If she healed him now, before anyone else saw how bad it was, Lord Ainsworth would surely just downplay his suffering. I could almost hear his sneering voice: 'Oh, it's not so bad. He's perfectly healthy.' Or, more likely, he wouldn't give a damn shit either way.

  After what felt like another eternity, the courtyard gate opened, and a new troop of guards marched in.

  These weren't City Watch. They wore black leather armor reinforced with dark metal breastplates, looking much more professional and imposing. Their weaponry was varied—swords, a heavy crossbow, one woman carried two wicked-looking daggers at her belt, and another held a slender, rune-etched rod that looked suspiciously like a magic wand or staff.

  Leading them was a tall man wrapped in long, deep green robes. He carried a large, gnarled wooden staff topped with a fist-sized piece of polished, glittering obsidian. He had long black hair, neatly tied back, and an equally long, well-kept black beard. But it was his eyes that caught my attention—they were a startling, intense green, reminding me instantly of my own new eye color.

  He looked like the main villain straight out of some fantasy film—imposing, powerful, radiating authority. Yet… his green eyes held an incredible depth, a sense of ancient wisdom… calmness… and surprising warmth? Everything about his posture screamed danger, power held in check, but his eyes… they felt strangely protective. He spoke in quiet tones to his troop, gesturing towards the manhole, and they immediately began setting up positions around it, preparing to descend.

  My attention shifted back to the gate as a carriage rolled into the courtyard, presumably from House Ainsworth. But to my surprise, the imposing leader in green robes didn't go towards the carriage. Instead, he turned and walked directly towards me. His steps were slow but deliberate, measured, utterly confident as he crossed the cobblestone courtyard. He was going to reach me in seconds.

  I quickly stood up, nudging Pip gently aside, and performed the best bow I could manage, my face still stiff and sore. He stopped directly in front of me, and it felt like his green, almost glowing eyes were staring directly into my soul. I couldn't look away, caught in his intense, searching gaze. For what felt like a very long time, we just stood there silently, the sounds of the courtyard fading away.

  The spell was broken when the guard who’d hit me earlier cleared his throat nervously nearby. “Forgive me, Lord Rockford. You wished to question the child.”

  The tall leader, Lord Rockford, blinked several times, as if returning from a great distance. He nodded gratefully at the guard and said “Thank you, Jeffrey.”

  Then he turned his calm, deep gaze back to me. His voice was a low, resonant bass, yet surprisingly gentle. “Greetings, young one. I heard from the guards that you encountered the thieves who stole the magic crystals?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer but continued smoothly, “Would you permit me to use my magic to verify the truth of your report? It will not hurt, and takes but a moment, I promise you.”

  I frowned slightly, confused. Verify with magic? Mind reading?

  “If it helps prove our innocence, Sir,” I replied carefully, “I’ll do whatever is necessary.”

  Lord Rockford nodded, his expression unreadable. “I will place my hand upon your forehead and link my mana briefly with your mind,” he explained calmly. “I simply ask that you do not try to block me. Can you do that for me?”

  I hesitated for only a second, then nodded slowly and closed my eyes, bracing myself.

  I felt Lord Rockford’s warm, dry hand rest gently on my forehead. A strange tingling sensation immediately blossomed there, spreading inwards. But the feeling wasn’t invasive… not hostile like I expected. It felt… inquisitive, like a polite request to enter. Trusting my instinct, I consciously relaxed, didn't fight it, just let it be.

  After a few moments, the hand lifted, and the tingling faded. I opened my eyes.

  The tall mage looked down at me, his calm facade momentarily shattered. His eyes were wide with a profound, undisguised surprise, mixed with something deeper—a dawning realization that bordered on shock. He stared at me as if seeing a ghost, his hand lingering in the air for a fraction of a second before he slowly lowered it.

  After a moment of heavy silence, he spoke, his voice slightly strained, the resonance of it wavering just barely. “Thank you for your assistance. Your cooperation is… appreciated.”

  He paused, his gaze searching mine one last time with an intensity that made my skin prickle, before he turned and walked back towards his troop, murmuring something under his breath that only I was close enough to catch.

  “I hope we meet again soon… Survivor of Sorrow…”

  Merry Christmas! ??

  Starting tomorrow (Dec 26th), I will be releasing 2 Chapters per day until the New Year arrives!

  December 31st.

  

  
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    First chapter of the day: Usual time (~10 AM EST / 16:00 CET)
  
    


  
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    Second chapter of the day: Evening bonus (~4 PM EST / 22:00 CET)
  
    


  

  - Fookin Jerry