Confusion coursed through Meriel’s veins. The red-haired kid, probably 12 years old, stared at him expectantly. The gap-toothed grin she gave him reminded him of the forester child even more, and he scratched the back of his head, unsure what she meant.

  "Let me join!" She exclaimed.

  "Why?" he asked, trying not to let his confusion show.

  "I just need to get inside the city, mister," she replied.

  "But why? Or why are you outside of the city in the first place?" he wondered aloud, looking at the surrounding people to see if the kid was just someone who got into a fight with her parents. But if there was anyone looking for this kid, it didn't show.

  "I might have stolen a little thing here, a little thing there. Have to get food somehow, you know? The merchants don't appreciate it much, and it will probably just be a few minutes before they realize." She smiled, her face turning into an expression that tried to be innocent.

  Meriel just shook his head and facepalmed. Of course, the second human interaction he'd have would be with a thief as well. At least he hoped that the reasoning of this thief would be a bit more proper, and that she didn’t lie to him outright.

  "Okay, so you want me to get you inside? And how exactly? We don't look anything alike, so pretending to be siblings is out of the question." And he also wondered why he should even risk something like that. Taking care of a random child wasn't part of his plan, and Ziggy was already trouble enough. Did he seriously need even more to take care of?

  Before he could decide, however, the sounds—the voices of the guards coming from the gate—told him he needed to move. He needed to make a decision now. Tell the kid to screw off, possibly get beaten by the merchant, or let her enter with him hoping that the guards wouldn't catch on.

  An image of his own sister from his childhood flashed through his mind—the similar grin a parallel to the one in front of him. She also loved stealing stuff, though only from Meriel himself at most times. He couldn't bring himself to just leave the child be. He knew that somewhere, deep inside, the wonder of whether she was alright would plague him for who knew how long, and he definitely didn't need more things to think about.

  He set his jaw, deciding that he'd just get the kid inside the city and then tell her to screw off—somewhat of a middle ground. He waved the kid to follow, the child replying with a giggle and they stepped toward the guards.

  "Your intent in the city? Name? Occupation?" One of the guards bombarded him with questions before Meriel could even say his greetings. He raised his eyebrows, not used to this treatment, but he let it slide. It was as pleasant as any interaction after all, and even though the guards were obviously tired, he still reveled in finally being able to speak to someone.

  "My big bro is a logger," the kid talked before Meriel found his voice, standing in front of him. "We went to cut some trees, but our dad sent us to the city. Our axe broke sadly."

  She was a natural-born actor. The words coming out of her mouth almost made Meriel himself believe what she was saying even though he knew it was not the truth. He did his best not to giggle and roll his eyes, and just watched the guards, doing his best to see through their expressions.

  "So, you two are siblings? You look nothing alike," one of them said, raising his voice though not aggressively, just mere curiosity.

  Meriel steeled himself.

  "Of course we're siblings," the kid said, agitated, and then stepped toward Meriel, hugging him around his waist. "Look at our faces and tell us we look nothing alike again! Just look closely!"

  The guard, uncomfortable now, just scratched the back of his head and nodded. "Yes, yes, I see it. Your noses are the same." There was as much conviction in his voice as Meriel would expect. "Well, come along now, we don't have all day."

  Meriel nodded appreciatively and stepped around the guards carefully. The kid tagged along, basically his shadow, stepping right behind his feet. Meriel fastened his pace, his feet now hitting the pavement instead of the dirt in front of the city, and though he wanted to talk to the kid, he was taken aback by the sight in front of him.

  He was 16 years old when he left the city for the first time. Sixteen years in these very streets, or at least the streets deeper inside. And he thought that would be a fine foundation for how to set his expectations, but they were all swept away at the sight in front of him.

  The buildings all looked out of this world. While he was used to them being a mix of wood and—well, it was just mostly wood and some rocks—now they were made of something else entirely. He resisted the urge to use an analyzing spell, but he thought he had a good understanding of what they were. What shocked him even more was the fact that most of them were two floors high and painted all the colors of the rainbow.

  The pavement also looked different. While he remembered some undergoing reconstruction when he left the last time, it was a completely different thing. Carts rolled all around, their designs also alien to him. These carts, when compared to the ones he knew, were like the most robust warhorse compared to a donkey. Ornate metal reflecting the sunlight, the wheels more robust than ever before. Fit for a king, yet every other merchant had one like it.

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  "How beautiful," he muttered, his eyes swaying from one building to the next.

  "Beautiful? I suppose so. Though the kids around say that the capital is much more beautiful, though." The kid replied, reminding Meriel of her presence.

  "Okay, I got you inside now, just scurry off," he told her, waving his hand at her.

  "Scurry off? But I have nothing to do!" She said, her eyes turning to a puppy expression. "What are you doing here, actually? Like, why come to Mura? By the way, you look… Well, you're just dressed weird. Are you a Delver? Probably yes, since you don’t have an arm, right?"

  His eyebrows shot up finally, a confirmation that something was as he was used to. So, Delvers were still a thing—at least one thing that didn't change. "Yes, I am a Delver," he agreed, wondering what exactly he could share and what he should keep to himself. "I'm visiting my family's home. It might not be my family's home now, but whoever lives there... I want to ask around, find their graves," he said, finding the last part of that sentence bitter on his tongue.

  The kid's face turned to empathy. "I'm sorry for your loss, mister. I know how it is to lose family." Her words sounded even sadder than Meriel's. He fought the urge to ask more, however—too little time to spend on finding out more about this child that might just leave him in the following 20 minutes.

  "Oh, also, what's your name?" she asked, her smile returning almost instantly, like the former expression was an illusion that wasn't truly there. "My name's Mary!" She said. Her hand turned into a fist pointed at Meriel. Apprehension crossed his face. He wondered what that was about and just stared at the fist.

  "What? Never fist-bumped anyone?"

  Fist-bumped. He did, but it was never a greeting expression. He returned the fist-bump and smiled. "My name's Meriel." He bit his tongue, realizing that his name might as well be well-known, but if Mary recognized the name, she didn't let it show. "Okay, Mr. Meriel, so which way do we go?"

  If only he knew himself… A thought occurred, and he immediately put it into words. "Okay, Mary, I'll let you accompany me but on one condition…"

  Mary's face turned into a scowl, apparently not liking where this was going, but she remained silent, prompting Meriel to go on, though he was confused by how she seemed to tense up. "It's nothing complicated. I'll just need you to answer some questions." He placated her, and she seemed to ease up a little, her smile returning.

  "Of course, Mr. Meriel. Now lead the way!" As she said that, she already began walking toward the city center. Meriel supposed that she wasn't the worst person—the worst human interaction, he'd come in contact with.

  Sighing, he followed, though he had to turn her toward the correct destination. This part of the city was new, but he quickly realized where he should head towards. He used to live in the outer part of the city before, where the walls were, and the part would be somewhere in the middle now. The memory of him waking up almost every night due to the guards drinking a little too much returned. It wasn't a pleasant thing to happen back then, but now it was an almost pleasant memory. Nostalgia coloring something into a more beautiful thing again, he supposed.

  Although he tried paying attention to Mary's constant bombardment of questions of her own, he couldn't fully focus. Instead, he looked at every passerby, trying to see even more of the differences, and failed to count how many there were. None of the dresses he remembered being in fashion back in his own era were worn by the ladies walking around now.

  While before, thick corsets and thick skirts were in fashion, now the designs were a bit more sleek, almost to the point of making him blush from the indecency shown. He avoided eye contact, as was usual for him, but he found himself the constant target of people's stares.

  One more thing to keep in mind. I’ll have to get some new clothing, he thought, trying his best not to show his nervousness.

  He remembered the city being quite poor back in his age as well, but now he could barely see any beggars. It was a good thing. A good feeling. Though Jonathan was a scumbag, if he had a hand in this, he regained some of Meriel's respect no matter how small the portion was.

  There still were people who looked a bit more on the poor side of course, but none of them looked like they would die if they didn't get any food today or like they would rob you clean the first chance they got.

  Hopefully this was the rule in the Lavarza kingdom, not the exception.

  "So! It should be somewhere around here." Mary suddenly brought him back to the street, making his ponderings dissipate. "This is a rich district." She shot him a little grin, eyeing Meriel's clothing from top to bottom. "I don't wanna say this and sound rude, Mr. Meriel, but you don't quite look like you fit into a rich family."

  The rich district? It was one of the poorer districts from what he remembered. Maybe that also was one of the changes. Maybe Elsa brought some of the money he was supposed to get back to his family?

  "Yes, I'm sure it's right around the corner. And looks can lie, Mary"

  If Mary had more thoughts, she didn't say them aloud but only nodded and continued walking in front of him, acting as his improvised guide. "Are your—well, were your family also Delvers?" She asked, circling back to the subject of Delvers once again.

  "No, they were not," he denied her assumption, thinking fondly of his family. Each memory was now painful, yet strangely optimistic. "My brother was in a sword-training school the last time I heard, and my father was a city guard. So they were fighters but not Delvers. I was the only one."

  "That's interesting. So you're the only Spellsword?"

  Whatever that thing meant—this "spell sword"—Meriel didn't get to ask more for now. His former family house came into view, and he once again became completely flabbergasted at the sight.

  His house wasn't big. He had to share his room with his siblings during his whole childhood, after all. But what stood in front of him was something completely different.

  It was a three-floor mansion painted blue and white, several windows reflecting the sunlight onto the small garden in front. A fence made from steel separated it from the street, similar to all of the houses in the road next to it.

  Mary turned around, wondering why Meriel had stopped, and when she saw him staring at the building, she looked back at Meriel and the building several times.

  "That's your former family's house? You can't be serious."

  "Oh yes, I am," he said, almost as confused as she was. He took a deep breath. "Let's meet the new owners."