Several minutes had passed since they had broken into a full run toward the city gates, yet Riven remained tightly wound. The adrenaline refused to fade, his senses still straining for the sound of something crashing out from the dense trees flanking the road. Every rustle set his nerves on edge, his limited mana held ready at a moment's notice.
It was only when the massive gray walls of the city finally came into view that his shoulders loosened. Slowly, he released his grip on his mana, letting the tension ebb away. They had traveled in silence the entire way-exhaustion and the constant fear of another attack discouraging any conversation.
Now that their destination was close, Roman finally spoke.
"Leave the talking to me."
Riven frowned for a heartbeat before glancing down at himself. Torn clothing. Dirt-streaked skin. His left hand wrapped in bloodied makeshift bandages, hanging uselessly against his side.
Right.
The guards would ask questions. But if Roman, a high-ranking hunter spoke, they likely wouldn't press him for answers.
They slowed as they reached the gates. Several guards snapped to attention, weapons raised-long spears leveled forward, short swords half-drawn as they assessed the three approaching figures.
Roman stepped ahead without hesitation. He reached into his pocket and produced a hexagonal token that Riven recognized instantly.
A hunter's badge.
It was gold, the letter C emblazoned at its center, surrounded by stars and etched runes. The reaction was immediate. The guards' tension evaporated, weapons lowering as recognition settled in.
One of them stepped forward. "What happened out there?" His eyes flicked over the group. "You're all in pretty rough shape."
Roman didn't seem bothered. A solemn smile touched his lips. "Hunts rarely go as planned. You know how it is."
He let the words sit before gesturing toward Riven's injured arm. "If you'll excuse us, my companion isn't in the best condition. We'd like to reach the healers as soon as possible."
The guard's gaze followed, taking in the bandages, then the cuts and bruises marring Roman's torso. His expression hardened. After a sharp command shouted behind him, the massive gray-and-silver gates began to swing open.
"You're free to go."
Roman nodded once in thanks and moved forward. Riven and Sylvia followed, passing beneath the arch and into the city proper.
The change was immediate.
Magitech lamps flickered to life as the sun dipped lower, bathing the streets in warm light. The city buzzed with evening energy-people moving between shops and taverns, laughter drifting through the air, the scent of roasted meats and spiced breads wafting past. Riven's stomach growled loudly in response.
He was just considering stopping at a nearby food stall when Roman and Sylvia came to a halt.
Sylvia stepped back, turning toward Roman. "I'll take my leave here."
Roman gave a simple nod. Without another word, she turned and walked off, disappearing down a path leading toward the city's central district.
Riven watched her go, unsettled.
She risked her life to help break me out… and just leaves like that?
Her motivations felt increasingly difficult to grasp.
Roman cleared his throat, pulling Riven back to the present. "I know you're hungry," he said, "but first we get that arm looked at. Follow me."
Riven didn't argue. He fell in beside him, glancing down at his useless left arm.
If the healers can't fix this, Mom is going to kill me.
No matter how much mana he tried to push into it, nothing responded.
They walked in relative silence for several minutes before Riven noticed something strange. Roman was leading them toward the Lower District. The signs were unmistakable-crumbling buildings, cracked roads barely held together by uneven stonework.
"Why aren't we going to the Seraphele House medical centers?" Riven asked, uneasy. "Why the Lower District?"
Roman didn't slow. "A few reasons," he said. "Mainly, we need to keep a low profile."
Riven mulled that over-right until Roman stopped abruptly. He barely avoided colliding with him.
Annoyed, Riven opened his mouth to speak, but Roman beat him to it.
"Besides," he said, gesturing forward, "they aren't the only ones who are adept at healing magic."
Riven followed his gaze.
They stood before a gray-blue structure that barely deserved to be called a building. Its wooden frame was warped and mold-stained, windows boarded shut with uneven planks. The door looked as though a strong breeze might knock it over entirely.
Riven stared at it.
Calling this a building is generous, he thought.
Roman raised his arm and knocked on the door three times.
Almost immediately, a narrow metallic slit slid open. Riven couldn't make out who stood behind it, but a moment later he heard a series of clicks and mechanical switches. The door swung inward.
A man stood in the doorway, clad in black-and-gray leather armor reinforced with metal around the vital areas. He looked to be in his twenties, light brown skin visible beneath the dim lamplight, and stood roughly the same height as Roman.
What caught Riven's attention, however, was his hair and eyes.
Both were silver.
In the kingdom, people of many backgrounds lived together-the result of multiple tribes uniting long ago. House Voltane came to mind. Even so, silver hair and silver eyes were rare. In the low light, the silver almost looked metallic, shimmering faintly as the man moved.
The man's stony expression softened as he recognized Roman. A genuine smile broke through as he extended a hand, which Roman clasped with one of his own.
"Is Terra here?" Roman asked.
The man nodded, stepping aside and gesturing them in.
Still smiling, Roman entered. Riven hesitated for a moment before following, uncertain whether he was welcome. The man turned back toward him.
"Hurry it up, kid."
It felt strange being called kid by someone who couldn't be more than five years older than him, but Riven let it go and stepped inside.
They moved through a long, dimly lit corridor that eventually opened into a massive room. The moment Riven crossed the threshold, bright lights assaulted his eyes-and then the smell hit him.
Strong liquor. Blood. Decay.
He flared his nostrils instinctively, fighting the urge to recoil. As his vision adjusted, the room came into focus. Large glass tubes lined one wall, each filled with differently colored liquids and containing strange beast parts suspended within. On the other side stood several metallic beds fitted with white cushioning.
Where is this place? Riven wondered.
Roman didn't pause, heading straight toward a desk in the far corner. Papers were strewn everywhere-stacked, scattered, and spilling onto the floor. Someone sat behind the desk, scribbling furiously.
They wore a long white coat similar to the healers', but what drew Riven's eye was their hair.
Even brighter silver.
Roman stopped beside them and placed a hand on their head, rubbing it as he spoke. "How's my mad healer doing?"
The scribbling stopped. The figure tilted her head up, revealing a young woman with the same light brown skin and silver eyes as the man at the door. Large circular glasses sat on her face, the lenses tinted red. She looked young-around Riven's age, if he had to guess.
A grin spread across her face. "Hey! You have to be a little crazy to be the best at something."
Roman laughed heartily and withdrew his hand, stepping aside as she swiveled her chair to face them both.
"This is Riven," Roman said. "A recent student of mine." Then he gestured toward her. "And Riven, this is Terra-a previous student of mine."
That was all he added.
Riven hesitated, then offered a simple greeting. "Hello-"
He never finished.
Terra shot to her feet, sending her chair spinning backward. At the same instant, dark, tentacle-like shapes dropped from the ceiling toward him.
"What the-" Riven blurted.
Before he could react, his body locked in place. He tilted his head up and froze.
The ceiling was covered in thick vines, twisted and layered like the exposed roots of a massive tree. More vines descended, dark green and sinewy, wrapping tightly around his arms, legs, and torso.
Panic flared in his chest.
Then he noticed Roman standing there calmly, hands relaxed at his sides.
If he's not stopping her… then she's probably not about to kill me. Right?
Terra moved closer. More vines slid down, carefully undoing the makeshift sling around Riven's left arm. They lifted it outward, stretching his palm and fingers apart, each digit held in place by thinner tendrils branching from the larger vine.
As she leaned in, Riven caught a clearer look at her face-silver eyes sharp behind red-tinted lenses, features framed by loose strands of bright silver hair. Despite the strange setting and her unsettling methods, he couldn't deny it.
She was… quite pretty.
The thought felt wildly out of place.
He swallowed and focused back on his arm. He still couldn't feel anything. A grimace crossed his face. Did I damage it beyond repair?
Terra leaned in, her head inches from his arm. "This is some truly extraordinary mana channel and nerve damage," she said, nodding to herself. "This will be tough."
Riven blinked, surprised. "Yeah… how did you figure that out so fast?"
She grinned as the vines continued probing and pressing along his arm. "Don't worry. You're in good hands-or vines." She laughed lightly.
Then, as if remembering something, she turned her head toward Roman. "Oh-sorry. I'll get to your injuries in a bit. Surprisingly, they aren't that bad this time. Good job."
Roman smiled as he moved to a nearby chair and sat down. "Don't worry about me. Focus on fixing him."
Terra nodded and turned back to Riven. She raised her right hand, palm facing upward.
The vines responded instantly. More descended from the ceiling, stripping away Riven's torn armor and shirt. Thinner tendrils slid into his left arm, burrowing beneath the skin.
Riven's face flushed as his upper body was fully exposed, but he forced himself to stay focused. His attention locked onto the vines entering his arm.
I hope she knows what she's doing.
As if on cue, Terra placed both hands on two of the larger vines.
Pain exploded through him.
A searing agony ripped across his body, so intense that his vision blurred instantly. The world tilted, darkened-and vanished as he lost consciousness.