Once morning prayer finished, Marie let some of the believers speak with Crina, who wanted the Luminous One to say a prayer for their success and for the Sun to keep their families in its radiant embrace.

  Aren watched on with disinterest until it ended and they moved to the solace of the temple’s higher floors. He wanted to go to his room to start on his research. He had already compiled a list of experiments he wanted to perform on the bracelet. He first needed to find the trigger mechanism, then…

  “Ren, stay,” the exemplar stopped him and interrupted his thoughts. “You and Mar’tei will stay today with Donnavan and Marc to safeguard the Luminous One until the evening.”

  Aren looked at her for a second before nodding. He could set up an impromptu lab anywhere. Donnavan and the other fifth stage warrior, whose name he had finally learned, saluted with their fists.

  Since the first light, the city had been immersed in preparations for the festival, so it wasn’t strange that the exemplar might be busy. A busy festival was also the most likely time for an assassin to act, which made placing him near their target the best move.

  Crina approached Marie, a worried look on her face. “Marie, there is something I would like to bring up regarding what the people told me today.”

  “Can’t it wait until tonight?” the exemplar asked, but when she saw the look in the young woman’s ashen eyes, she relented. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  “The elder from a nearby village who’d come for the prayer wanted a blessing to keep his village’s herds safe from monster attacks. When I asked him to be more specific, he said sandshadow vulpes had migrated into the area and nested there just last week,” Crina explained.

  “That’s an issue for local adventurers or the garrison,” Marie tried to dissuade what she knew would follow.

  “I know, and normally I’d agree that we should convince either group to act, but with the festival…” Crina hesitated, searching for the right words. “Less urgent issues get overlooked, and until then the children have to stay hidden in their homes, and the villagers need to stay alert at all times.”

  Aren nodded along. It was a well-known flaw among adventurers that they tended to avoid taking jobs during times like this. During the solstice festival in his own country, only the most urgent or highly paid requests ever left the roster, while lesser problems were left to fester until regular work resumed. Then it struck him that the young woman must have been paying close attention to every prayer request like this one.

  “I understand,” Marie said. “I cannot lessen our own security either, in the face of the threat you face.”

  Crina looked crestfallen at that. “I see…”

  Aren thought about sending a task force of golems to deal with the threat, although it would require him to leave the city for a moment. The golems would have no issue fighting the vulpes that any stage two practitioner could fight three of at the same time. Yet, when he moved to propose the idea, Lan interrupted him.

  “Honored Exemplar,” Lan started. “I know you have a task for Ren and our leader, but the three of us are free.”

  “Indeed, Honored Exemplar,” Wes affirmed.

  “I could use some exercise before the festival,” Bar’tik said. “We did not even get to celebrate last day’s success because we spent the night recovering. Ehm, Honored Exemplar.”

  “Thank you so much,” Crina said with a smile.

  “Anything for your radiance, Luminous One,” Wes said and bowed, his brother joining him.

  “I was going to assign you to temple watch, but this may be a better use of your… expertise,” she said, tasting the word as if she didn’t much like it. “The village is an hour and a half away if you leave through the northwest gate. Depart when you’re ready. And behave with dignity when you interact with the villagers, your actions will reflect on the Luminous One’s reputation.”

  The three adventurers nodded, the two brothers also saluting with their fists. Then the group dispersed. Aren went first to his dormitory, gathering what he needed for his research before heading to Crina’s quarters. Fortunately, Louis was already occupied with his duties.

  Arriving on the second-to-last floor of the temple out of breath, Aren tried to steady his heartbeat. Lugging a heavy pack full of devices up twelve flights of stairs hadn’t helped. For the first time, he was forced to admit that his muscles had atrophied over the decade since magic had taken over even his most basic tasks. Once he returned to the academy and gained access to the Archmages’ Archive, he would peruse the Muscle Archmage’s notes to find a solution.

  Finally, he knocked on the frame of the wooden door he knew led to the Luminous One’s quarters. As he waited, he wondered if the room remained empty whenever no pilgrimage was taking place, used only once in a lifetime. He already knew that each temple had at least one room with heavy stone doors reserved for exemplars, he had passed several of them on his way up.

  When the door opened, he was met with a suspicious glare from Marc. A deep set of sickly red eyes fixed on him, brimming with shifting life energy that contrasted sharply with his shiny blond hair. Aren could feel them scanning him from head to toe.

  “What’s in the pack?” the warrior asked, his voice sounding like grinding rocks.

  “Just some devices for research,” Aren said with a shrug. “Nothing that can be used offensively.”

  Still, the man didn’t open the door, and they found themselves locked in a staring contest. Aren didn’t flinch, finding the attempt at intimidation rather naive. Finally, Donnavan stepped in.

  “Let him in,” the officer said. “We have our orders.”

  Aren stepped into a large room that seemed to coil around the entire level of the structure. Cloth and wooden partitions blocked his view beyond the section he stood in. Mar’tei and Crina sat near a large table, deep in discussion, while Donnavan stood by a tall glass window, and Marc remained close to the door.

  “Aren, welcome,” a bright smile that he was starting to get used to greeted him.

  “Hello,” Aren answered.

  He glanced at the red-eyed warrior, who didn’t react to his real name, before sliding into an empty seat at the end of the table. He began unpacking device after device from his bag, starting with a metal box covered in runic formations, its top marked by a small circular depression.

  “Mar’tei was telling me about her homeland. We didn’t have much time to talk before,” Crina said. “Did you know their people spend a whole week alone in a mountain when they come of age? I don’t think I would have survived even a single day.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Aren answered honestly. “Sounds like a harsh coming of age ceremony.”

  “Well, the idea is to prove your usefulness to the tribe. Although, for a long time now, we no longer let anyone die if they fail,” Mar’tei added. “Failing still affects your standing within the tribe, though.”

  In the meantime, Aren pulled out several smaller cubes and connected them to the larger ones with metal cables etched with similar runes, forming a large circular arrangement. Finally, he produced a sizable transparent crystal that flickered with multiple lights, which dimmed once he slotted it into the depression on the large cube.

  With the setup complete, he placed his wrist, encircled by the black band, onto a specific formation on one of the smaller cubes. His eyes widened as the crystal sphere remained perfectly clear. He continued touching each of the smaller cubes in sequence, but nothing happened.

  Then, to ensure everything was functioning correctly, he took his barrier relic and placed it against the front cube, causing the sphere to light up in a cascade of colors. When he touched it to the other smaller cubes, small formations appeared within the sphere. One revealed that the relic absorbed energy, another that it could release it and shape it, and the final cube indicated it responded to user intent. The remaining cubes didn’t react at all to his relic band, as they were designed for other types of holy bestowals.

  “What are you doing?” Crina asked curiously.

  “Researching this relic,” Aren said, trying to figure out the next step.

  “Good luck, mage,” Marc scoffed derisively. “No mage has managed to skirt the powers of the holy relic since the current Prophet-King designed this iteration in his blessed wisdom. He even personally imprinted the bestowal on the priests so they could carry it out.”

  Aren didn’t bother answering, he knew there were no words that could satisfy either of them. He would simply take the challenge as it was. It wasn’t like he was out of ideas.

  “Aren, I don’t know if you should break our laws like this,” Crina warned. “Marie is already staking a lot of her reputation on you.”

  Aren looked up from his pack, where he was searching for another set of devices. He held her sincere gaze for a moment. For some reason, lying to her felt wrong.

  “For now, I’m treating it as scientific curiosity,” Aren said. “And who knows, being able to bypass this black band might one day be a matter of life and death.”

  Crina responded with silence, considering his words. Aren pulled out another device, a circular, inscribed flat plane designed to record passive enhancements. He pressed his dark shawl against it, and the surface lit up with purple and dark shimmering light, all the while he monitored whether the black band triggered any response to the device activation.

  When nothing else happened, he pulled out another crystal and pressed it against the flat plane. He felt a pulse of mana in response, corresponding to the resonances recorded by the device. Yet the band remained completely silent.

  Nodding, as if expecting the result, he pulled out another crystal. It was designed to release pure mana into the area, increasing its density once activated. He connected it to another cube, which monitored the local mana levels and controlled the crystal’s output. When he combined them, the cube glowed blue, then quickly cycled through all the colors of the rainbow before settling on purple. Despite his senses now brimming with mana, and Mar’tei shifting her gaze around the room before settling on the cube, nothing happened with his band.

  “Is it difficult?” Mar’tei asked, barely containing interest in her voice.

  “Holy bestowals are always the hardest to analyze with magic. Life-force practitioners have similar trouble even tracking mana without specialized techniques. The outdated triangle of power, magic over life force, life force over holy powers, holy powers over magic, still holds some truth, and was an understandable misconception by the scholars of the time,” Aren began, his hands moving as he connected various devices to his initial large cube.

  “Like how it’s easier to purify cores with holy powers,” Mar’tei said.

  Aren nodded. “Yes. The current conclusion is that the power of magic comes from understanding, while holy powers come from faith. Understanding faith is difficult, bestowals with the same effect can operate very differently. We still don’t even fully understand where the energy originates.”

  “It comes from the One Sun,” Marc interjected, his anger visible.

  “True, your faith in the One Sun grants you power,” Aren replied, “but we don’t understand how the One Sun actually imparts that power. I’ll be more deliberate with my words.”

  “Mages,” the man scoffed, “your attempts to bind a god with your understanding will always fail. Some things are not meant for mortals to know. That’s how the lifegiving light shaped this world.”

  “The folly of men,” Aren mused, returning his focus to his work.

  This next trial was somewhat risky. He would activate a metal disk to generate a weak force field, designed to lift itself into the air. It would test whether magic that didn’t originate from him could also activate the band. Thanks to the near-perfect efficiency of the formation, the resulting resonance spillage would be minimal. The power source was connected through a series of cables to the large cube, each line humming faintly with energy.

  The disk began to rise. The moment it did, a soft tremor pulsed through his band, followed by a thin flicker of light shimmering in the crystal atop the large cube. Then, with a sharp click, the cable supplying power to the disk was severed. The field collapsed instantly, and the disk fell back onto the table with a muted clink.

  Aren allowed himself a small smile, the relic had not activated fully. He captured the outcome in another orb and enlarged the recording. Then, he repeated the process with the smaller cubes, storing each new response within crystals, building a growing collection of tiny, glowing records.

  Mar’tei watched with fascination, not wanting to interrupt the archmage’s focus. Aren redrew the formations that his cubes had recognized on paper, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The silence grew awkward for Crina, who continued to watch with confusion before finally opening her mouth.

  “Sorry,” she started.

  Aren looked up from his notes, his experiments with the current setup finished.

  “Yes?” he asked, still keeping his focus on the sheet of paper he was staring at.

  “In case of emergency, you are allowed to use magic by Marie, an exemplar,” Marie said. “Do you really need to find a way to bypass our laws?”

  Aren looked at her, weighing his answer. Did he want to bypass the relic out of simple curiosity, or because he didn’t want to feel the way he had when he fainted? His eyes fell on the barrier band on his arm. He did not like this.

  “I don’t know if I will be able to,” he said, deflecting.

  His notes suggested two layers of detection, one for magic itself and another for intent. Intent was far trickier to evade. If the device scanned his mind the moment he willed magic into action, there would be no bypass without reshaping his own thoughts, and to do that, he would need magic in the first place. The trap was almost poetic in its design, and any attempt to outthink it risked triggering exactly what he was trying to avoid.

  “That’s not really an answer,” Crina said. “I know you are a good person. You wouldn’t have saved me or that village otherwise. I am powerless myself, so I have no right to criticize you. Just a few months ago, I was a simple adopted daughter of a tailor and cloth maker.

  “I have never been fully in control of my circumstances, but I try to do the best I can with what I have. I know that Marie blackmailed you. But if you do not want to be here, you can leave. I can stop Marie from trying anything against you. You have already helped enough.”

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  Aren stared at her for a long moment. She had to know that if he left, her chances of survival would drop significantly. Marie could not be at her side at all times. The assassins would surely exploit that and return with greater force, and not every temple would be as large or fortified as this one.

  Yet he saw none of that reflected in her eyes. It seemed she was willing to let him go if he wished. Still, he was not staying because of the blackmail. The opportunity to meet a speaking apocalyptic beast who was also a magic user was too much to pass up.

  “Okay,” Aren said.

  “What?” Crina asked.

  “I won’t use magic in the city. I will keep my promise,” Aren said. “I suppose I could use some time to recover my old form. I have to admit that my body has grown weaker since I achieved mastery in sympathetic and mnemonic sorceries. I would never have fainted like that five years ago.”

  “Thank you!” she said, smiling reassuringly. “I could ask Marie for some of the tinctures she gave me when I first left my village. I was stuck inside quite often because I was sick before the Sun chose me. I had to work for a while before I could bear the Sun’s light.”

  “The priests couldn’t heal you?” Mar’tei asked. Aren had wondered the same.

  “They could relieve the pain temporarily, but it always came back. Then I was chosen as the Luminous One by the One Sun, and it disappeared completely. It has never returned since,” she explained. “I still get sunburned if I stay outside too long, and Marie has to heal me. It would be quite a sight if the Luminous One showed up burned by the Sun.”

  Aren nodded, a measure of understanding for the young woman’s situation dawning on him.

  She smiled cheerfully. “Since we are on the topic, I would advise you to stop giving lengthy explanations about magic whenever someone approaches. The priests will not be convinced to let warriors train with golems by hearing a detailed account of the difference between dampening fields and force barriers.”

  “Hmph,” Aren let out, knowing that already, though he simply lacked patience for them. “Anyway… I still want to understand this bracelet. Call it academic curiosity if you must.”

  “What have you figured out?” Mar’tei asked, her curiosity finally passing a bearable threshold.

  “That it’s more complex than I expected,” Aren said, pointing to a formation in his notebook. “This represents the effect using formations. While it doesn’t show how holy powers actually work, after studying thousands of examples, we compiled a wide variety of recordings and patterns. This is the closest approximation I could create.”

  Mar’tei leaned over his notes, her long braids draping across the table in front of him. “This looks like a mana detection formation,” she said, studying a three-circle design with two incomplete circles branching off it. She flipped to the next page. “And this… is this a divination formation?”

  “Yes, to both,” Aren replied. “The second part has a kind of mind-reading effect, probably detecting the intent to use magic.”

  “That’s complicated. Why are some circles empty, and this one only has a force-exertion formation? It seems to have an outgoing flow,” the younger mage asked, tilting her head.

  “The empty circles are where we lack identifiable patterns, or the effect wasn’t active long enough to capture it,” Aren explained, flipping to a blank page.

  He had ideas about what to do next, but he needed to plan them carefully. It was clear that unless the bracelet reacted, he wouldn’t be able to record anything. He also could not allow it to activate fully, at least not if he wanted to stay in the good graces of Crina and Marie.

  “Have you studied the primer I gave you on the third stage of mind palace?” Aren asked, shifting the topic for now.

  “Yes, I remember all the formations, but I have a question,” Mar’tei said. “What does it mean to personalize one’s mind palace? Are there different versions of the spell?”

  “No, that part develops with the user, though it can be influenced during creation,” Aren said with a smile. “From the third stage, it becomes less of a storage for formation components and more like a separate brain. Not one that can think on its own, but one that can grow and change as it processes spells. The more you use certain formations, the faster you can access them. Combining them also becomes more fluid and instinctive.”

  “To influence it during creation, you need to fill it with your natural resonance while constructing it. It’s more difficult, so it’s not included in the primer. We wouldn’t want someone to destroy their mind palace and leave themselves bed?ridden for months. We’ll also work on getting you mnemonic sorcery, it will make the whole process easier.”

  “I can’t wait! I’ve been doing the exercises you asked me to whenever I can,” Mar’tei said, her excitement clear to anyone watching.

  “I can create some puzzles for you to solve right now, they will help when you work on your own spellcraft,” Aren suggested. As she nodded, he began sketching a partially completed formation along with various logic pieces that needed to be adjusted to fit together. He smiled as Mar’tei immediately got to work, quickly solving the first few puzzles before getting stuck on a section that required a substitution to properly connect everything.

  Crina chuckled, drawing Aren’s attention. The girl’s cheeks reddened, and she waved her arms apologetically. “Sorry, I just thought it was nice how excited you both got over this. It reminded me a bit of my father.”

  “Oh, that wasn’t rambly?” Aren asked with a grin.

  “I’m not claiming to understand much, although your explanations make sense, even if I lack basic knowledge on the topic,” Crina said. “It’s just that now, unlike when you use explanations to deflect critique, you are actually engaged in it.”

  “I see. Was it the cloth maker or tailor father?” Aren asked.

  “Neither, my biological father,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “He was an astronomer. He taught me a lot about the movement of the sky.”

  “My condolences,” Aren said quickly.

  “It’s fine. It’s been over a decade now,” she replied. “Why don’t you tell me a little about your home?”

  Aren hesitated for a moment but decided it was only fair. He took a second to imagine an old two-story building, the smell of cooked meat and apples filling his mind, and the clinking of mugs. Beyond it lay a vast farmland and orchards stretching seemingly endlessly toward a range of mountains on the horizon.

  “It was a small village on the plains in the middle of nowhere. Although we had a great view of the Cloudsplit, a wide mountain that seems to split clouds in two whenever they pass through it. That was when I was young. Nowadays, it is almost a city thanks to ore mines that were discovered and the expansion the duchy is undergoing,” Aren said. “Thanks to my friend and the duke’s efforts, we’ve been able to expand through the inner parts of the western wildlands, which has made the whole area safer too.

  “My mother and father own a small apple orchard and beekeeping operation for their tavern. Their cider and mead were always popular, and they had to fill the entire cellar with barrels to keep up with demand during the solstice festivals. Lately, they’ve started receiving orders from across the whole duchy.

  “They stopped me when I tried to increase their sales through my connections, claiming their craft should prove itself. Although I did manage to persuade them to accept money for expansion, they still insist it is an investment since I will be inheriting it anyway.”

  Aren laughed softly as he remembered that particular conversation. Afterwards, he realized they were only refusing because he had refused to leave until they did. It had been the longest time he had spent back home in years.

  “Are you the only son?” Crina asked, her interest genuine.

  “Yes,” Aren said, recalling the past. “My birth was not easy, from what I’ve heard. My mother was sickly and struggled for a few years, even with healing, and she’s a second-stage life practitioner. Nowadays, she can hunt down a giant boar with just a knife, so she’s fine. Still, they decided not to have more children.”

  “That’s good she is okay,” the young woman said, relief showing on her face.

  “Indeed,” Aren replied, unsure what to say next.

  “So why did you leave?” she asked.

  “Well, that was a combination of things. When I was ten and my talent for magic became obvious, since I was learning spells from books alone, my parents paid Master Abraham, a mage from a nearby city, to take me as an apprentice. My schedule became twenty days of study there, then five days at home, and that continued for the next six years. Then he passed away,” Aren said, his voice carrying a faint note of nostalgia.

  “He was old, very old. He never told me exactly how old, but at least over ninety,” Aren added quickly when he saw the sad look in the girl’s eyes. It seemed to help only a little. “Anyway, I have two friends from the village. If not for them, I probably would have gone to the academy with a letter from my master instead of becoming an adventurer for seven years.”

  “Leilara is amazing with blades,” Aren said, his voice tinged with somberness. “She learned the basics from my father and mother, who both practiced when they were younger, but she quickly outgrew them. She loved sparring and often joined the solstice tournaments in the city. She even got to practice with the local garrisons because she caught the captain’s eye.

  “Now Thomas, that guy does not know what a peaceful evening is. Every time I was back home, he would drag us on adventures, scouring the local wilds despite our parents’ disapproval. He would go off by himself when neither of us was home, and sometimes he would disappear for a month. Despite all the worry he caused, he always returned, either with some grand discovery or a collection of bruises. So when we came of age, after my master passed away, he wanted us to become adventurers. Leilara responded with excitement, and I agreed provisionally, which ended up lasting for a long time.”

  “You must care a lot about both of them,” Crina said.

  A faint shadow crossed Aren’s eyes, but he dismissed it. “Well, we mostly do our own things nowadays. Leilara is helping the duke expand and improve life in our duchy. We keep in touch, though I suppose not enough. Thomas took the first cart towards wilderness once it was clear we wouldn’t continue adventuring together. I joined the academy and buried myself in research, with my ultimate goal being to end a plague of monsters and build a prosperous civilization.”

  “That’s a grand goal,” Crina said, the idea itself feeling almost too unreal for her to find any other words.

  Then Marc interrupted, anger etched across his face as his eyes flared with energy. “So are you going to do something useful to protect the Luminous One, or just waste her time?”

  “You don’t want me to use magic in the city, so I have no idea what you want me to do,” Aren said with a laugh.

  “Then there is no need for you to be here,” the warrior said, his voice laced with anger. Donnavan shot him a warning look, but Marc ignored it. “Go away. Stop besmirching these halls with your presence.”

  “That’s enough, Marc!” Crina shouted, shaking off her initial surprise.

  “Make a perfect world, as if magic could do that. I will not allow your trickery to affect the Luminous One,” Marc scoffed. “Once you build your army of golems, you’ll just become another plague upon this world. We don’t need him. No assassin will ever surprise us again.”

  “I want to remind you that Donnavan was with Crina when she was attacked.” Aren blocked an open palm strike with a purple barrier, and the resounding shockwave rattled the table. Crina and Mar’tei, who was still immersed in her puzzles, yelped.

  “Don’t use the Luminous One’s name, mage!” the man spat.

  Donnavan stepped closer and yelled, “Stop this. You will not use violence in the Luminous One’s presence.”

  “I am just disciplining him. It is not violence, it is something that should be done,” Marc said, reason leaving him.

  “As if you could. Did you forget already? I am stronger than all of you,” Aren said. His smug smile pushed Marc past his limit. “You are just food for a crab.”

  The man reached for his sword, but Aren’s barrier was already in place, shielding both him and the young women from any shockwave that might occur. Yet the strike never came, as Donnavan grabbed Marc’s arm and pinned him to the ground with a lightning-fast technique.

  “Marc, you will now go downstairs and recite the words of repentance until the Sun rises,” Donnavan said coldly. The other warrior froze, obeying without a word.

  When the officer loosened his grip, the chastised warrior refused to meet anyone’s gaze. His arms still trembled with fury, but shame burned in his eyes as well. Marc scrambled for the door, bowing once to the Luminous One before departing.

  When he left the room, Donnavan looked at Aren. “I apologize for the unseemly conduct of my warrior.”

  “That seemed extreme,” Aren said, lowering his barrier. “I should apologize for goading him.”

  “Yes,” the officer said, straightening his outfit. “His family has always served on the frontlines in wars against the Teolians. On top of that, a rogue necromancer wrought havoc in his family’s lands not long ago. Please bear in mind his short temper whenever you are in his presence. I will discipline him myself.”

  “I see,” Aren said. “I will keep that in mind.”

  “Good. Now it is time for the Luminous One to begin preparing for her evening appearance,” Donnavan said, turning to the two young women who were still in shock. “Young Mar’tei, would you please send for servants to come and assist the Luminous One with her preparations?”

  Mar’tei scrambled to her feet and quickly left the room. Aren and Crina stayed in slightly uncomfortable silence until she returned with a group of women carrying a basin of water, ceremonial clothes, and a basket full of small glass bottles. Two of them were female holy warriors who looked slightly confused at Marc’s absence, but Donnavan’s glare kept them silent.

  In the end, only Aren and Donnavan were left alone as the women passed beyond multiple partitions, their footsteps fading out of hearing range.

  “You are still young for all the power you hold, and you have probably surrounded yourself with either admirers or equals,” the man said suddenly.

  “What are you getting at?” Aren asked, unsure of the point he was trying to make.

  “That you don’t realize, but my men and women fear you. They don’t trust you. They were raised to distrust mages, and you represent the peak of what they are taught never to trust,” the officer began. “Much of that is not your fault, but when you displayed your power against that worm, I had to quiet more than one conversation about you among the few who know your true identity. Some even think you are an assassin’s plant, even though it makes no sense.”

  “…Really?” Aren asked, surprised.

  “I understand why the exemplar brought you in, but despite being wiser and more honored than any of us, her upbringing was different from ours, us coming from prominent families. Every highborn family expects the peace to be broken by your country within a century,” Donnavan added. “To her, you are a powerful man. She is used to dealing with people like that, even if she probably finds you more unusual than anyone she has encountered.”

  “To us, you are a symbol, and not a good one,” Donnavan continued. “I just want you to keep that in mind.”

  “I see,” Aren said. “And to you?”

  “Well,” a rare smile crossed the man’s stern features. “You did save me, and probably my leg. That venomous prana was more potent than any poison I’ve encountered. Then you vomited under someone’s window like a young man at his first festival.”

  Aren stayed silent for a moment, looking out over the sprawling city before him. In scale, it was one of the largest he had ever seen. He knew Ayru’s population exceeded that of Vo’Teol, but this single city alone was nearly the size of his country’s capital. Over a hundred thousand people, most of whom, to varying degrees, would prefer he didn’t exist. That was not a reality he could allow to stand if his plan was ever to come true. He would have to address it.

  “Do you have any advice on what I should do?” he asked the man.

  “Respect the Holy Exemplar more,” Donnavan replied. “Listen to her and don’t dismiss her when she talks to you with your mage blabber. If you actually started respecting our religion, that would be ideal, though I doubt you will. Louis’s warriors improving after training with your golems for just a few days has made some of the less skeptical holy warriors curious. Stop flaunting magic as if it’s the greatest thing in the world in front of people who hate and distrust it. Over time, show its good uses, not what our stereotypes say a mage is like.”

  Aren remained silent after that. He sat down and cleaned the desk, assuming they would leave soon. When that didn’t happen for over half an hour, he began fiddling with his notebook, jotting down ideas for further research. In the back of his mind, he considered what he had learned, but he had no idea how to begin bridging the cultural gap Donnavan had outlined for him.

  Eventually, he finished sketching his entire set of ideas just as Crina returned from her bath. Her hair flowed gently down her back, catching the sunlight in a graceful shimmer. Her skin, smooth and gleaming from bath oils, radiated softly, and her smile contrasted sharply with the expression she had left with. Mar’tei followed closely behind, her cheeks flushed.

  “Ren, can you promise me something?” she asked, using his false name now that the temple staff were nearby.

  “What kind of promise?” he asked.

  “I’m invited to watch the opening of the festival. There will be a lot of dancing. I didn’t know you and Mar’tei are dating, so please dance with her,” she said with a teasing huff. “You’re clearly not doing a good job if I had to learn about it from Ann here.” She nodded toward one of the holy warriors.

  “You’re behaving more like a student and teacher than a couple,” she added, shaking her head.

  Aren wanted to scream internally. He had forgotten to tell either Marie or Crina that it was just a rumor Louis had spread. Yet with everyone watching, he could do nothing but nod, even as he longed to retreat to a quiet research lab and stay there for the next two months.

  Aren did his best to learn the steps on the fly, careful not to step on Mar’tei’s feet as she danced with growing excitement. At first, after they were pushed into the crowd, she seemed uncertain and embarrassed like him, but now she found the foreign dance enjoyable and fun. He spun her by the hand, and she pulled him toward her before executing a quick set of steps around him.

  He admired her adaptability and curiosity for other cultures. In his own country, dances of course existed, but as a mage of formidable talent, he had rarely been required to participate. During his travels as an adventurer, he usually spent festive occasions drinking, talking, or working in his notebooks while on the verge of some discovery.

  When he narrowly dodged a kick aimed at his shin from an enthusiastic move Mar’tei tried to emulate from a nearby pair, he smiled. He let her do an underarm turn before linking arms as they joined a rhythmic walk around a hanging globe of light conjured by the priests. The first time, he nearly tripped into a couple ahead of them. After that, he kept his eyes on one pair, two female warriors from the exemplar’s force who danced gracefully, their clear movements easy to follow amid the chaos.

  He sank into the rhythm, feeling a happy buzz in his mind that was unfamiliar but welcome. He let the music guide his steps instead of overthinking them. Mar’tei’s hand tightened in his as they moved, and she laughed when he stumbled slightly, spinning her too early. Recovering quickly, he matched her pace, stepping lightly and sliding just enough to avoid the other dancers.

  When the music swelled, she twirled under his arm again, then leaned into him for a brief, synchronized pivot that nearly collided with another pair, but both laughed instead of panicking.

  The dancing continued long after both of them were out of breath and in need of a break. Aren admitted he was worse off than Mar’tei. He spotted the three familiar adventurers dancing in the crowd, returning from their quest just before the event began. Their renown for saving the children and serving as guards of the Luminous One had grown, making it easy for them to find willing partners.

  Bar’tik danced with a slightly shorter, yet still towering, dark-skinned woman who was built nearly as strongly as he was. Lan moved between a group of three girls, each vying for his attention, while Wes danced with a tall but delicate-looking man, both of them smiling as they moved with the flow of the festival.

  He glanced up at the raised podium where the exemplar and Crina stood, watching the festivities unfold. Marie wore the happiest and most satisfied expression he had ever seen on her typically stoic face. Following her gaze, he saw a group of slightly ragged children playing joyfully together, imitating the dancers with more grace than he’d managed.

  Crina, on the other hand, appeared to be forcing herself to stay still. He noticed her fingers tapping to the rhythm of the music, only to stop abruptly whenever she caught herself. There was a subtle hint of longing in her ashen eyes, a depth that seemed to darken their usual gleam. It was clear that, despite the festival being held in her honor, the Luminous One would not be allowed to enjoy it fully herself.

  Warning: I will be playing the new PoE2 league, but I swear I won’t abandon you!