Wes crouched behind a barrel that barely hid him from view due to his size, cursing his brother's name in his mind the whole time. The alleyway he was stuck in was in a sordid part of the city. Some boarded windows were in a state of disrepair, the painting on the walls was old and washed out, and no one had dusted the sand off the stone streets in a long time. It kind of reminded him of his home. Living in a faraway border village did not leave much time for taking care of small things when everyone worked hard to survive.

  The burly warrior stopped himself from tapping impatiently as he thought,

  He also wondered where Bar’tik was, but the berserker had separated from them earlier, insisting on helping a perfectly fine elderly woman carry her groceries. He was probably looking for them by now.

  Suddenly, a figure dropped from the roof next to him, and he almost bisected it. “Lan, what in the eclipse are you doing?” he seethed.

  “Come, I found where they entered,” Lan whispered and started walking but was stopped by Wes grabbing his arm.

  “Explain, finally!” Wes said. “Who are we following?”

  “I’m not sure, but I was bored with your meticulous shopping, so I went to a nearby stall to get something to eat. Then, as I was walking past an alleyway, I heard some shady men whispering about having to notify their boss of the Luminous One’s arrival. Then they walked all the way here. Suspicious, right?” Lan said quickly.

  “True, but we should leave this to the guards, or better, notify the Exemplar!” Wes nearly shouted.

  “But they would have gotten away in that case,” Lan said. “And don’t you want to prove your worth? We are better than just Aren’s disguise.”

  “Ren,” Wes corrected instinctively, but it felt weak. He admitted that he had fancy thoughts about proving himself before the Holy Exemplar.

  “Let’s just spy on them for now. I found a broken window we can enter through. If we hear something damning, we can think about what to do then,” Lan said convincingly.

  Wes shook his head. His brother would be the death of him one day. “Fine, let’s go.”

  “Follow me,” Lan said smiling and walked forward cautiously, making sure there was no one about.

  Wes had to focus to keep up with his nimble brother. The warmth in his navel bloomed and flowed through his body. He concentrated on his legs, making his muscles more flexible and springy to take faster steps. He sent a trickle of power to make his muscles more dense and sturdy, though it still felt crude. Even so, it was enough to limit the damage he’d take if he had to push himself.

  He leapt after his brother, landing lightly on a decrepit balcony using a window ledge. Its balustrades were broken and cracked. He held his breath as a loose piece of rock bounced under his kick, but no further noise followed, and he relaxed slightly.

  Lan motioned for him to follow with one hand and lifted a broken wooden board with the other, revealing a small entrance to a dark room. Wes sighed. He did something he hated, compressing his muscles and tightening them until his form became leaner, denser, and capable of slipping through the narrow gap. Once inside, he shuddered as he relaxed, his body erupting in stinging itches and pains that lingered for a while.

  The silence inside was eerie, and dust prickled his nose as they walked out of the room, finding nothing in the corridor either. The whole building was dirty and unkempt, and Wes was starting to doubt that there was anything here. He wondered if his brother had been noticed and duped, but he kept his tongue lashed for now.

  After taking a careful turn, they found a set of stairs and walked down to an empty hall. Lan motioned for him to go left and look around. Wes nearly sighed but did as he was told, as at least this way he would have something to tease his brother about. He looked closely into one room and saw dust and sand clearly displaced by feet, many feet. He tried to follow them, but it was hard to find anything. It was as if they had never left the place.

  Lan entered the room a bit later and also started looking around himself, but after a while he stood in place and started muttering something to himself. Wes stepped closer to hear him clearly.

  “Light reflects off everything, light pierces every crevice, light flows everywhere,” Lan muttered over and over.

  Wes let him chant as he pleased, mantras were common among prana users. Instead, he lowered himself and pressed an ear against the ground. With a steady breath he pushed life force into his eardrum, tightening the membrane until it was drawn almost taut. High pitched vibrations sharpened, then he slowly eased the tension, letting the membrane loosen and become more receptive to deeper tones.

  He repeated the cycle, stretching the limits of his control. At last, faint voices drifted up from below, low, distant, and maddeningly indistinct but undeniably there. He stayed like this, trying to at least separate the voices and count them, but he couldn’t tell more than that there were a few of them.

  Lan repeated the words over and over as his life force flowed through his eyes. Wes watched as his brother finally stilled, then opened his eyes, which shone with golden light. The change was immediate. Lan swayed slightly, as if the world itself had shifted beneath his feet, but he clenched his teeth and forced himself to focus.

  His gaze moved slowly across the floor. After a moment, he stepped forward and crouched near a thin crack in the stone, one so narrow Wes would have dismissed it as a flaw in the masonry. Lan examined it closely, then glanced to the side at a tile marked by just a few too many faint scratches.

  Without hesitation, he slid his thin blade into the gap beside the tile and lifted. The stone rose with a soft scrape, revealing two handholds beneath. Lan stepped back and motioned to his brother with both hands, bowing slightly.

  Wes smiled at his brother's antics, feeling slight excitement rise that he tried to thaw. It was no time to be getting ahead of himself. He filled his muscles with power, then carefully and slowly raised the stone slab that offered little resistance, sliding upward with almost no sound.

  A set of steep stairs going downward was revealed, and the brothers nodded to each other. Lan went first, his eyes dimming slightly to not give himself away, and Wes followed, watching his steps to avoid releasing any noise.

  The arid air above transformed into a stiff, stagnant smell. They reached the bottom quickly and found themselves in a dark corridor made of condensed sand with only a few shining crystals spaced far apart for distance. Wes focused his hearing again and pointed in the direction he heard noises from.

  The two warriors went slowly, making sure to check each corner carefully, but the tunnels seemed abandoned, the growing noise being the only signal there was life down there. He tried to distinguish it, and he heard sobbing.

  When they saw the source by peeking from a doorway, they stopped in their tracks, shocked and rooted in place as children in cages lay there, some weeping, some trying to sleep, and some clearly injured. Hot rage billowed in Wes’s heart at the sight in front of him.

  The burly warrior stepped forward to free the children but was stopped by his brother’s outstretched hand. He glared at him, but Lan ignored it and pointed forward to another room, then waved his arms to show that he had seen something there.

  That calmed Wes just enough to think rationally. If the children noticed them and made noise, they would be found out. He nodded, stretched his hearing, and stepped toward the direction carefully. Another step, and from a room that shone with a slight blue light, he heard a voice.

  “Message from Balthen–RubyBlight, Balthen–RubyBlight. We report that the Luminous One swayed from her pilgrimage path and arrived early in Balthen. We are ready to proceed with the children, they are disciplined and will listen to orders. Some are ready to take blades and become little shadows. Repeating. We are ready. Message ended, awaiting orders.”

  “Who the hell are you?!” a voice shouted from behind them. Wes grimaced as the volume stabbed at his sensitive eardrums.

  Lan spun around instantly, his posture shifting from stealthy to confidently casual, full of himself in a way that was both threatening and nonthreatening, tense and relaxed at once. “We’re reinforcements from Auremih. Once we realized the Luminous One changed her course, we were sent here last night. Your security is pretty weak, we got here without anyone noticing. We were waiting for the report to finish.”

  “What?” The man said, dressed in grey cloth and scale armor, two daggers in his hands, just stared, stupefied. “Meg sent you? Why didn’t we hear anything?”

  “It was sudden. You know how it can be. How would we know where to find you otherwise?” Lan said, his tone smooth and confident, dripping with just a hint of venom. His rugged clothes actually supported the act. “Anyway, what’s the plan? Using the festival, or the Luminous One’s procession, as a distraction?”

  “Right… yeah.” The man relaxed slightly.

  At that moment, the owner of the voice they had heard earlier stepped out of the blue-lit room. He was a tall man with a gray mantle draped over his shoulders, a shield on one arm, and a sheathed curved sword at his side.

  “What’s this ruckus?” he asked, authority sharp in his voice. “I heard Meg mentioned?”

  Wes’s brain went into overdrive, and he couldn’t stop himself once the realization dawned on him. “You’re going to use the children to kill the Luminous One?”

  A heavy silence descended on them. Then the tall man demanded with anger in his voice, “What are you on about? Who are you!?”

  Lan face grimaced, and he tried to think of some quick excuse but after a second he decided to roll with it, “We were sent here to ensure the death of the Luminous One, you are here to help us, then you can return to your petty little crimes.”

  The silence that descended was oppressive. The two men looked at each other in stupefied silence. The man wielding daggers looked horrified and glanced at his clear superior with worry and fear. Finally, the tall man with the curved blade unsheathed it, and his voice boomed.

  “We may be criminals, and we may live in darkness, but we will not fall that low. I always knew that whore Meg would one day step too far. This is the end of our partnership! Now leave or die! HERETICS!” The man shouted, a deep crimson aura enveloping him.

  The man struck his metallic shield, and a loud gong erupted from it. Suddenly, multiple shuffling feet and footsteps echoed through the corridor. The two brothers looked at each other in stark realization that they may have made a slight mistake.

  Lan looked at Wes and begged his muscle-headed brother with his eyes to stay quiet. “Right, we will take our leave then.”

  “Lan, the chil…” Wes started, but his brother interrupted him.

  “We can think of another plan. They are not that critical,” Lan said and started walking out. “Boss will remember this!” he shouted threateningly.

  Wes tried to think of something to save the children, but suddenly something unexpected happened. A loud crash, then another, echoed from above, each one closer than the last. Before anyone could figure out what to do, two long tusks pierced the floor. A boar’s snout appeared, and in the next instant, the ceiling collapsed. A mountain of fur and muscle slammed down, crushing the man with the daggers beneath its weight, his body vanishing into the wreckage in an instant.

  Bar’tik stood there, his head that of a boar rather than a bear. “Where are the children!?” he roared, guttural noises vibrating through the air. Then his eyes fell on the two brothers. “Hello, Wes, Lan! Are you also looking for the kidnappers?”

  Lan burst out laughing and pulled out his long blades, a golden aura enveloping him. Wes followed suit and pulled out his wide curved blade from his side, a green glow shining from his muscles as they grew in size.

  The leader of the kidnappers’ face grew furious as he realized what was happening. “You!” Then he turned to the warriors approaching from behind him. “Men, we need to kill those three!”

  The tall warrior shining deep crimson burst into motion. Within a blink, his left foot stopped just in range to slash at Wes. The muscled warrior barely raised his weapon to protect himself in time. The two blades collided, and the adventurer was not ready for the weight that came with it, nearly losing his blade and hand in the process. He jumped backward, and the sword, strengthened by a red aura, continued on to split the stone where he had just stood.

  “Be careful! He must be fourth stage!” Wes shouted before the chaos of battle swallowed any further conversation.

  Wes watched as Lan tilted his body, avoiding multiple crossbow bolts while mentally counting the enemies. There were at least twenty of them. Ten were life practitioners, though none above stage two, their auras only partially covering their bodies.

  Bar’tik was already charging through two frontline warriors, leaving bloody carnage as his tusks and claws ended their lives. Wes saw Lan leave four two-stage practitioners to the raging berserker as he ducked under multiple blades. His training showed in every movement. In a blur of motion, he cut off the wrists of three weaker warriors and slipped past the melee, appearing in the backline just as the crossbowmen were reloading.

  Wes, meanwhile, did his best to survive. He filled his muscles with raw power and blocked a shield bash with the flat of his blade, barely holding his ground as his body screamed in pain. He was sure his bones would have been crushed to dust if he had not worked on his durability.

  He slid his blade upward along the shield and barely parried a strike that would have decapitated him. He took a quick step back, twisting his body to the left as the shield, looking like a red comet, passed by his face. The aura grazed him lightly, and he felt as if he were punched, his head spinning.

  Then a powerful foot slammed into the left side of his chest, and he tumbled along the ground, rolling before stopping against a wall with a loud thud. He quickly scrambled to his feet and charged with all he had, ignoring the pain in his ribs, as he saw the kidnapper trying to backside Bar’tik, who fought like a wild beast against six spearmen.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  His feet cracked the hardened ground below him. He controlled his muscles to enhance each step, turning his body into a speeding wagon of pure muscle. The crimson warrior turned just in time to block a powerful swing that Wes put his whole momentum into. His opponent grunted as he was unable to brace himself and slid along the ground, back pressed against a wall. Wes’s aura brightened as he entered a contest of strength with the man, doing everything he could to keep him here.

  Lan killed all the crossbowmen before they could even drop their weapons, their mundane eyes too slow to follow his movements. Just as his blade decapitated the last of the men, two warriors, arms and curved blades shining gray and blue, reached him from behind.

  The nimble warrior slapped the two weapons away and tried to strike at their wrists, but they managed to get away with only slight scratches. He pressed the man with the gray aura. His left arm swung at his target chest while his right hand aimed at the man's dominant left arm. He continued the attack even as he twisted his upper body to avoid a blow from the blue blade as it passed harmlessly in the air above him. His target managed to block the attack to his chest but was unable to defend himself from the second attack, which decapitated his whole left arm at the elbow.

  The second man collapsed quickly afterward as a hole opened in both of his legs. Bar’tik managed to tear two of the spearmen apart with his claws, three weapons sticking out of his thick hide. He charged at another, piercing him with his tusks, and just as he turned to face the other three, they collapsed, different body parts cut off as they moaned on the ground. Seeing this, the few remaining criminals took their chances and started retreating.

  Wes hung for his life as a slam of a shield smashed into his stomach, a bile of blood escaping his mouth for the fourth time. His knees felt weak even as he channeled more of his life into his body. Not for a second could he let up, holding the man’s blade in a lock, or he would die before he could blink. Finally, the man had enough, and the crimson solidified on his shield and slammed into his stomach. Wes barely reacted in time, strengthening his muscles as he was slammed into the opposite wall, a trail of blood flowing from his mouth. His back screamed in pain as he tried to get up, but the feeling in his limbs felt dimmed.

  Lan saw his brother falling through the air and tried to get to him, but a crimson blur blocked his way. He scrambled to stop and leapt left as a blade passed where he had just been. Bar’tik, still full of adrenaline, slammed his paw into the man’s shield. The tall man quickly adjusted his strength to match the beastly warrior and deflected the claw, his blade leaving a deep bleeding gash through the fur and hide.

  The kidnappers’ leader roared angrily and, with practiced efficiency, pressed his advantage. His blade shone crimson, and with a single step, he appeared in the ancestral warrior’s reach, twisting his hips and tracing a path through the air that would decapitate the offending beast in a single strike. Bar’tik tried to block the strike with his tusk, but just before it connected, a blade enveloped in golden glow struck from below and deflected the blade with surgeon precision, causing it to miss Bar’tik completely.

  The berserker took the chance and tried to gouge the man with his tusks but was blocked by a shield, and stopped like he had hit a wall. Still, he held on and tried to push the man away. Lan, meanwhile, targeted his attacks at the man’s opposite sides, one heading for the neck from the left, his right arm going for his leg. The man scoffed and, still pushing back the ancestral warrior, swung his blade in a crimson half moon and deflected both strikes, then thrust it at Lan. The nimble warrior twisted, yet despite avoiding a strike to his heart, it still left a wound in his left arm.

  Both adventurers pressed their attacks but their efforts were methodically dismantled one after another, both finding themselves in dire straits as more wounds appeared on their bodies. Then disaster struck. Bar’tik lost his balance as he backed away from a crimson blade. A shield was going to smash into the boar-like head, but at the last second two strong hands gripped the arm with all their strength. Wes screamed as his arms grew in size, his bones creaking and blood spilling from his mouth.

  The criminal scoffed and twisted his blade to pierce the offending arm, but before he could thrust, a powerful set of bear teeth bit deep wounds into his shoulder. He screamed in pain as his ligaments and bones tore apart. Then a golden glow headed like a wave of light for his neck, yet still the man remained cool. A barrier of pure crimson energy appeared on his neck, stopping the blow in place. A signature ability of fourth-stage life practitioners.

  Wes screamed as red energy scorched his hands, while Bar’tik howled. The man, confident in his ability, pushed his energy, and just as a blast of power was going to push all three opponents away, a needle of golden light flew at his head. The ray of pure sun-like energy struck a hastily raised red barrier and pushed through, cracking it, and the thin blade pierced through an eye into a brain and through the skull, stopping only once its hilt struck the eye socket.

  Wes collapsed to his knees, breathing hard, while Lan sheathed his other sword, looking around carefully, massaging a dislocated right shoulder. Bar’tik’s form reverted slowly, pulling out the spears still lodged in his body, a wild smile on his face.

  “Great fight,” he said with satisfaction, then looked at himself. “Oh… you think we still have time to find clean clothes? Mar’tei will be angry if we go back like this.”

  “Pff… ha… hahaha,” Wes laughed, his deep voice echoing off the hardened sand between breaths. “We should… take care of the kids first.”

  “You would have thought guards would have heard us by now,” Lan smiled. “Big city, eh?”

  Aren and Mar’tei sat together in a large hall, garnering some attention, their matching black bands hanging off their wrists. In the end, they couldn’t wait any longer for the three adventurers and had to head off without them. The offense of being late was much greater in comparison to three guests not attending.

  The hall was made of three levels, each one higher than the next, connected by multiple flights of stairs. The two of them sat at the middle level, where the city's priests and people wearing turquoise cloth sat. Some glared daggers at them, but generally the atmosphere wasn’t too hostile, as they were still guests invited personally by the governor.

  Once everyone was seated, the sound of flutes and drums followed a procession led by Exemplar Marie, and Crina went up the stairs slowly. The governor followed behind them, his piety visible to all. Aren instead stared at the bundle of red hair in the procession, a woman wearing a crimson dress with pink and turquoise cloth draped over her shoulders, her figure that of an experienced warrior, a curved blade at her side, her hand always within its reach.

  Her sharp features reminded him of Leilara, but her skin tone was darker, resembling rich honey. She watched the room carefully, and when their gazes crossed, she scowled, but her face quickly returned to a stoic expression.

  When the procession reached the top layer, the warriors separated and formed a line to two seats under a large symbol of the Sun with an eye engraved in it. Marie took a few steps towards it then kneeled, Crina following in suit. Everyone in the hall turned towards it and said in unison.

  "The Sun that watches,

  O light that warms our souls,

  Our savior from the dark,

  May your Prophet show us your way,

  And we, your servants, follow through."

  Then Crina and Marie sat upon the highest seat, and Governor Bar knelt before them, accompanied by his closest family, including the red-haired swordswoman.

  “I greet thee, Luminous One, and you, Holy Exemplar, in my beloved city and home,” the governor intoned. “May the light you bring shine ever brighter within our hearts, and may your radiant duty forever stave off the darkness that threatens us all.”

  “Thank you for your kind words, Governor Bar,” Crina said. “I will work hard not to disappoint. May the light guide my hand.”

  “May your light shine through every night,” Marie added.

  Then the governor rose and addressed his people: “Now, enjoy the bounty granted to us by the Sun! And starting tomorrow, we shall celebrate for a week, under the One Sun, the achievement of the Luminous One who ended the blight upon our land and brought a new core to our country!”

  The people cheered in unison, offering a grateful prayer: “Thanks to the Sun! Radiant glory to the Luminous One!”

  At that, two dancers, male and female, walked to the center of the middle layer, two long metal whips in their hands. Long colorful robes hung on their bodies, reflecting light in a graceful cacophony of vibrancy. A sound of drums and flute picked up in the background.

  With a sudden, fluid motion, the whips arced high, slicing through the heat-wrapped air like serpents of molten silver. The man vaulted backward, spinning midair as the woman sprang forward, her robe flaring like a living sunburst.

  They collided in a mirrored rhythm, foot striking ground, palm grazing palm, whip whipping whip, in a violent, elegant harmony. Golden dust rose around them, golden grains caught in the sharp angles of their leaps and rolls, glinting like a thousand tiny suns. Each landing was a drumbeat, each airborne twist, a flare of incandescent motion.

  The woman vaulted over the man, flipping as the whip sang through a perfect spiral, and he caught her fall mid-turn, spinning her into the air again. Their bodies moved like fire drawn across sand, tangling and untangling with fierce precision, a dance that worshipped the sun not with prayer but with sheer kinetic devotion.

  When they finally paused, knees brushing, breathing shallow, the hall gazed in silent appreciation. Mar’tei was ready to clap, but when no one else did, she lowered her arms. Instead, everyone raised their cups and drank as one, Mar’tei hastily joining in.

  Then, the feast started, conversation boomed in the hall. People kept a distance from both of them, even those who did not stare at them with hostility. The two of them knew that it was likely, especially without the three warriors to balance things out, although Mar’tei was at least enjoying not having to keep her brother in check.

  Aren, instead, enjoyed his meal, eating dishes he had never tried before. He especially enjoyed a kind of meat in a crispy layer that he dipped in a multitude of sauces. Although most felt too spicy to eat in large amounts, they were still tasty. The wine was also of good quality, its taste sweeter than he was used to, probably thanks to all the sun the grapes received in the south compared to his home.

  “The meals here are rather delicious,” Aren commented to fill the silence after he ate a bit.

  “I’m still getting used to the hot spices,” Mar’tei said. “Most of them don’t even grow in the north. The battle-like dancing was amazing. We don’t really do anything like that back home. The men just fight instead.”

  Then someone finally did approach them, “So you are the mages that saved the Luminous One.”

  Aren looked to find the red-headed woman. He stared silently at her for a while, not really knowing how to approach her. She didn’t have the same angry expression he remembered from before, but there was a question in her eyes. He hoped she wouldn’t mention his loss of consciousness.

  “Not much worth without your magic if you lose consciousness like that,” she added as she sat down next to him. Her voice sounded more matter-of-fact than intentionally degrading.

  “Right, well, I’m still getting used to the heat this far south,” Aren said. “I remember you being quite angry last time I saw you.”

  “Apologies for that. I thought you were tourist mages visiting where you were not supposed to be. Your arrival was sudden, and the details of it didn’t reach every ear. I was stacked with an investigation when I heard the prayer had started at the temple,” she said, then added with a teasing twist, “I hope it was not my intimidating posture that knocked you out.”

  Aren coughed as he had just tipped his wine to wet his tongue. “No, you just resemble someone I know. It threw me off, combined with everything else.”

  “Investigation?” Mar’tei asked. Far in the north, law was kept mostly within tribes, so she felt an exotic interest in the work of lawmen. Then she quickly added, “I’m Mar’tei of the Borim tribe.”

  The woman looked around a bit, then said, “Apologies, my name is Rati. I’m the daughter of Governor Bar. I’m working with the local garrison to discover a gang of smugglers and child kidnappers.”

  “How is it going?” Aren asked. “I’m Ren, from Vo’Teol.”

  “We have issues locating their base of operations, although we are now short-staffed, with a chunk of our soldiers deserting and more busy with keeping the peace and preparations for the Sunlit Festival,” she complained.

  “If we could use magic, we could help, but I’m guessing that’s not going to happen," Aren said quickly, seeing the shift in her face. “While the safety of the Luminous One is our focus, from what I gathered, distractions in our journey are going to happen anyway. So if their base is somewhere outside of the city, we could help?”

  “If the Holy Exemplar agrees,” Mar’tei supplied quickly.

  “I will keep that in mind,” she nodded noncommittally. “I won’t bother you two anymore. I just wanted to make sure there was no bad blood between us. My father seems to wish to respect you.”

  “Of course,” Aren said and just as he was going to say goodbye a commotion happened near the entrance. Few of the soldiers were quickly leaving through the door to the hall and he heard some familiar voices.

  He saw the governor standing up and walking down the stairs, Marie and Crina following, the exemplar’s holy warriors surrounding them in a practiced formation. Aren and Mar’tei looked at each other and followed Rati, who was already walking downstairs.

  When they stepped outside into the late evening air, they found Wes being carried by Bar’tik, both covered in blood. Lan, still wounded, was carrying two children on his back with one arm, while at least fifteen more followed behind them. The three of them looked proud, surrounded by more and more guards.

  “So in short,” Exemplar Marie said as soon as the two brothers finished retelling what happened behind closed doors in the temple, “you two went to get new clothes, thought you found assassins, investigated on your own, and nearly got yourselves killed by fighting a fourth-stage kidnapper. Then you claimed you did it in the name of the Luminous One.”

  “That was Lan running his mouth in front of the guards, Honored Exemplar,” Wes said and instantly winced in regret as her gaze pierced him. His wounds were already healed, but the phantom feeling that his legs and ribs should still be broken could remain for up to a few hours.

  She shook her head and regretted ever involving adventurers. They were pure chaos and knew nothing about following proper doctrine. She already found the presence of the archmage grating, but still worth more than the trouble he brought.

  She turned to the northerner who was still covered in blood, “And how did you end up there too?”

  “Well, I decided to help this older woman, who looked all sad, carry her groceries. Then she started ordering me around, making me clean her house. Finally, when she ran out of chores, she made tea, broke down, and told me about her grandson getting lost,” Bar’tik started.

  “Then, I asked for something of his and transformed my head into my boar’s ancestor, since they have a strong sense of smell. I followed a trail out of the house to a playground next to the orphanage, where I found more children playing. They got scared of me and ran away, bringing me to their caretaker.

  “Once I talked it out with the woman, she told me some children were also missing, and I got more things to smell. As I was walking around the area following the tracks, I felt fear, filth, and blood in one area through the gaps in the bricks.

  “Fortunately, the layer of hardened sand was thin enough for me to smell through. Deciding that looking for an entrance was counterproductive and a waste of time, I started digging. Then, well, as Wes said, I dropped on top of one of the scum and the fight started.”

  “And you are adventurers and didn’t think of informing the local law enforcement or me,” Marie said.

  The three warriors remained silent, and Rati, who stood next to her, interjected, “Honored Exemplar.”

  “Yes, High Protector?”

  “I would like to offer my thanks to you and those three men for saving our citizens’ children,” the swordswoman said. “There was a chance they would have gotten away if not for this luck.”

  “Yes, luck,” Marie said. “It’s lucky you are alive. Go wash up and rest.”

  She couldn’t punish them, as her charge had already praised their actions and thanked them. The Luminous One’s kindness sometimes made it difficult, but she herself had issues finding true anger within her at the lack of protocol the adventurers showed. Saving orphans, even if out of line, was not something she could wholeheartedly discipline.

  More than enough people didn’t care properly for the less fortunate. The kids, clearly traumatized, would need a long period of healing and rehabilitation by priests and their parents. She felt like sighing, but she kept her stoicism and turned to the governor’s daughter.

  “Is that enough for your rapport?” Marie asked.

  “Yes, I already sent a squad to recover any of the criminals still alive, and we will investigate and bury the tunnels. We need to make sure there aren’t more of those,” she informed. “That Meg from Auremih is an interesting lead, we will need to investigate that too. Although convincing Auremih’s governor will need to be left to my father.”

  “Do so,” Marie nodded. “If it helps, you can use my name to speed it up.”

  The high protector nodded gratefully and saluted with her fist before departing. Marie, now left alone, finally sighed. She had enough of a mess with the assassins, and now the Sun was burdening her by adding kidnappers’ gangs on top. She would meet her duty faithfully, but sometimes it did not feel easy. At least this would help with the plan Crina had convinced her of.

  When she left the room, heading for the Luminous One’s room to relieve Donnavan, she saw Mar’tei berating the berserker and the two brothers and smiled. At least they would receive some discipline. She had heard that women from the north were strong, and this young woman was proving it, even keeping proper respect for the culture around her despite being a mage. It was a pointless bit of wishful thinking, but she found herself imagining Mar’tei managing to rein in the archmage and his blatant disrespect.

  Aren stood by the four adventurers with mirth in his expression that annoyed her to no end. The man, whenever he was not useful, tried his best to overturn her standing, most likely in some calculating plot aimed at grabbing more control over the mission details. She knew mages hated not being the ones dictating what everyone should do and how they should do it. His constant use of magic, despite the annoyance of people around him, and his scholarly blabbering to deflect any questioning, were for sure part of it.

  Yet he still offered his help in the slaying of a beast he didn’t need to, and showcased strength that humbled her, as she knew she would not escape unscathed fighting a dragon-class worm. Although that, too, may have been part of whatever the mage was planning. At least the greed for knowledge that archmages were known for should be enough to make him want this mission to succeed.

  She really hoped some of the other exemplars she knew would be willing to help would be able to take a break from their duties, but that was doubtful with the Rain Season coming up. So she found herself dependent on the archmage, even if she needed to be constantly on guard for whatever he might try next. She made him promise he would not try to cast magic in the city unless the Luminous One’s life was directly threatened. Even if it was in vain hope that he would follow it, she wished he would not get caught when he did.

  She approached the duo of mages, and as an idea suddenly came to her, she said, “You two and Donnavan will be responsible for watching over the Luminous One when I’m unavailable due to the Sunlit Festival rituals.”