I opened my eyes slowly, staring at the dingy wooden ceiling above me. Cheap, but stable. The kind of roof that'd last another decade if you didn't ask too much of it.

  I rolled over, reaching for the pocket watch on my desk drawer. The chain clinked softly as I pulled it free.

  Five forty-three...

  I flopped back onto the mattress with a groan.

  "Can't even sleep in even if I wanted to," I muttered.

  Soft giggling echoed through the room.

  I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes. Small black figures darted across the floor - faceless, formless, but moving with childlike energy. They explored my dresser, climbed over stacked luggage, chased each other around the bedpost.

  I recognized them immediately.

  "Damy!" one of the smaller ones chirped - a girl's voice, high and bright. "You're awake! You really do snore, you know."

  I smiled faintly despite myself. "I could've gone without knowing that."

  The room was packed. Most of my belongings were already bundled and ready - bags stacked near the door, coat folded over a chair. The apartment looked gutted, like I'd already left.

  I sighed, glancing at the clock again.

  "Train doesn't depart for another six hours," I said aloud. "Might as well get some fresh air."

  I pulled the cigarette tin from my coat pocket - the one the Regent had given me. Flipped it open.

  The children immediately started complaining, their voices overlapping in soft protests.

  "Aw, but we wanted to see you-"

  "You just woke up-"

  "Can't you stay a little longer?"

  I smiled, pulling one free and placing it between my lips.

  "You'll see me soon," I said gently, lighting the cigarette. "I just need some peace and quiet for an hour or two. If that's fine."

  Amy - the one who'd called me Damy - paused, then nodded.

  "Okay," she said softly. "Let's let him rest for a bit, guys."

  One by one, the black figures dissolved into faint wisps of smoke, curling upward and vanishing into the air along with the smoke exhaled from my nose.

  I stood up, took a long, slow drag, and pushed the window open just a crack. Cool morning air slipped inside as I stared outside.

  The sun had just started rising, pouring a gentle orange glow across the buildings into my room. My curtains flowed gently with the wind, as I put my hand through my hair.

  Morren. As beautiful as always.

  Then I grabbed my coat and left.

  ---

  The Inner Rim was already alive.

  Shopkeepers swept their storefronts, calling out to early risers. Children laughed near fountains, splashing water at each other while their mothers scolded them half-heartedly. Couples strolled arm-in-arm down cobblestone streets. Carriages rattled past, loaded with supplies, drivers shouting at pedestrians to clear the way.

  It was bustling. Normal. Peaceful.

  Almost like the city hadn't been burning a couple days ago.

  I smiled faintly, letting myself enjoy it.

  Ahead, a small cafe came into view - weathered sign hanging above the door, painted letters reading: The Wandering Goose.

  "This is why I like this place," I muttered to myself.

  I pushed through the door. The bell chimed softly.

  The usual waitress looked up from behind the counter, her face brightening when she saw me.

  "Morning," she said warmly. "The usual?"

  I nodded. "Tea with lots of sugar. And that cake I always forget the name of. To go."

  "Of course. Just a moment."

  I stepped back outside and took a seat at one of the small tables lining the street. The morning sun was warm on my face, the breeze cool enough to keep it comfortable.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  For a moment, I just sat there. Watching people pass. Breathing.

  Then I heard an irritating voice call out.

  "Excuse me, waitress!"

  I turned, eyes listless, and glared.

  Charlotte sat across from me - red hair cascading over her shoulders, black dress flowing like silk, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. She waved at the waitress, who walked right past her without a glance.

  "I'll have the same," Charlotte said sweetly, still smiling. "But I prefer my tea bitter. And tiramisu is more my style." Her eyes gleamed as she turned to me. "As the man, he's paying the tab, of course."

  I said nothing.

  Just slowly reached into my pocket and pulled out a cigarette.

  "Stop! Those cigarettes might actually work now that you've adjusted to the eleventh seal." Charlotte said immediately, eyes pleading.

  I paused, the unlit cigarette halfway to my lips.

  Then, in a hushed voice, I asked. "What do you want?"

  Charlotte leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands as she gazed out at the street.

  "Maybe," she said softly, "I just want to enjoy being human again."

  I gave her a questioning look.

  She smiled faintly, eyes distant. "I miss this. Watching humans so closely. With my own eyes." She tilted her head. "Such peace should be cherished, no?"

  "You're acting like you aren't human yourself," I said.

  Her smile widened, tinged with something melancholic. "I was. But I doubt I could be called human anymore."

  I smiled faintly. "It may be rich of me to say... but I feel the same way sometimes."

  Charlotte's gaze softened. "It'll get worse," she said quietly. "But it's times like these you should cherish the most."

  I nodded slowly.

  Then I leaned back in my chair, letting my eyes drift across the street - the children playing, the shopkeepers laughing, the couples walking hand-in-hand.

  For the first time in a while, I smiled.

  The moment broke when the waitress returned, setting my tea and a slice of cake on the table. She hesitated, glancing at me with worried eyes.

  "Are you alright?" she asked softly. "You seem... under a lot of stress."

  Ah, she must think I'm mad, talking to myself.

  I paused, then smiled. "I guess it's true - women can see emotions better than men."

  "I'm fine," I added. "But it does seem a bit empty here."

  Her expression shifted - awkward, uncertain. "After the news came out... that nobles had colluded with the Eastern Empire..." She glanced at the street. "The newspapers are saying another war might be on the horizon. It may seem peaceful here, but a lot of people are leaving Morren. Moving further into the Empire."

  I nodded slowly. "Makes sense."

  She sighed. "We might have to shut down eventually."

  I frowned, a more serious look adorning my face. "You should definitely move closer to the central Empire. War is a very real possibility."

  Her face fell. "My family's business has been here since the last war... sixty-three years ago. It would be a big blow to us. We wouldn't even know where to go."

  I paused while thinking to myself, before pulling out a scrap of paper and a pen as I scribbled something down quickly.

  "Here," I said, handing it to her. "Send this to Lord Arthur. I've written his personal mailbox down - just keep it a secret." I met her eyes. "Explain your situation. I'm sure he'd love to pay your cafe a visit. He loves them as much as I do."

  I smiled faintly. "I'll tell him to expect it."

  The girl stared at the note, stammering. "Who... who are you?"

  Charlotte rolled her eyes from across the table. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

  I stood, adjusting my cuffs and collar.

  "My name's Damian, hopefully Damian Solmere some day." I said simply. "What's yours?"

  "Elise," she stammered, eyes wide. She bowed quickly, hands trembling. "Elise Cartwright. I apologize for my lack of courtesy, young master Damian. Thank you for your help - thank you so much-"

  "Please, don't bow," I said gently. "I wish you and your family the best. You've treated me so kindly, its only natural I return the favor."

  I started walking, then paused, glancing back over my shoulder.

  "You're pretty enough," I said with a thoughtful smile. "Don't waste it while so young. Explore the world as much as possible. There's plenty out there to see."

  Her face turned scarlet.

  I waved once. "Goodbye Elise, live a fulfilling life. Please."

  Then I turned and walked away, sipping my tea.

  Charlotte appeared beside me, eyebrows twitching. "You enjoyed that way too much."

  I only smiled, staring up at the bright blue sky as a cigarette graced my lips, my hand digging in my pocket for a lighter.

  The wind pulled at my hair, cool and soft.

  "I think," I said quietly, "I should see what Arthur's up to, before we leave."

  ---

  I knocked twice on the office door.

  "Come in," Arthur's voice called from inside, muffled but clear.

  I pushed the door open and stepped through.

  The office was a disaster.

  Papers covered every surface - stacked on the desk, piled on chairs, scattered across the floor like fallen leaves. Ledgers lay open, ink-stained and dog-eared. Maps were pinned haphazardly to the walls, marked with red circles and scrawled notes.

  And in the center of it all sat Arthur, hunched over his desk, quill in hand, dark bags heavy under his eyes.

  He looked up when I entered, and despite the exhaustion etched into his face, he smiled.

  "Damian," he said, setting the quill down. "Good to see you."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Have you even slept a wink?"

  Arthur waved a hand dismissively. "I can sleep when I'm finished with all this."

  I pulled out my pocket watch, flipping it open.

  Nine twenty-three.

  "You have two and a half hours before we should leave," I said, snapping it shut.

  Arthur blinked, surprised. "Ah. Is it really that late already?"

  He stood slowly, joints creaking, and gestured toward the door.

  "Come on. Follow me."

  I frowned. "Where are we going?"

  Arthur smiled - tired, but genuine.

  "It's time to have a bit of fun before you leave."

  ---

  The training grounds stretched wide and empty beneath the morning sun.

  I groaned the moment I realized where we were.

  Arthur walked ahead, hands clasped behind his back, boots crunching on gravel. "No one will be watching," he said casually. "So I want you to go all out."

  He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes glinting.

  "You've ascended to the Eleventh Seal recently, haven't you?"

  I sighed. "Yeah. I have."

  Arthur stopped at the weapon rack, pulling a sword free. The blade was plain steel, but the hilt bore a gemstone embedded in the guard - dull gray, waiting.

  He tossed it to me.

  I caught it by the handle, testing the weight. Balanced. Solid.

  "Sorry to disappoint," I said, stepping back and letting energy flow into the blade. Shadows erupted along the steel, coiling like smoke. Red threads wound through the darkness, pulsing faintly. "But my Fate pathway's more support than combat."

  Arthur's smile widened.

  "It matters not."

  His hand moved to his own blade. The moment his fingers touched the hilt, golden fire exploded along the edge - radiant, blazing, fierce enough to make the air shimmer.

  He leveled the sword at me, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion.

  "Now," he said. "Show me what you've learned."