Jade straightened slowly, eyes lingering on the faint scar that ran across her wrist. There was a fleeting and quiet moment where something twisted in his chest. Not pity. Something colder, sharper. A faint echo of memory, of rain, broken glass, the laughter of men who had kicked him while he begged for bread.
He exhaled softly and turned away.
"Let her rest." he murmured, voice even.
Niamh said nothing, but the flicker of her hand brushing the girl's hair spoke volumes.
Her eyes lined with age and worry followed Jade as he moved toward the doorway.
Lio lingered a second longer, his small hand tightening on the blanket before he slipped out behind them.
The trio entered the main hall. The glowstones set into the ceiling pulsed a gentle silver, throwing soft light across shelves stacked with tonics, phials, and crystals. The once-small shop had expanded now , sprawling across two floors, with the hum of alchemical circuits woven into its bones. The faint scent of mint and ozone hung in the air.
Jade leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. His silver-grey eyes reflected the light like twin moons behind glass.
"She's hiding more," he said quietly. "Fear like that doesn't fade from just being rescued."
Niamh folded her arms too, her expression hard. "You saw the way she flinched when I raised my hand to brush her hair. That's not just fear of strangers. That's someone who's been broken and glued together too many times."
Lio swallowed, nodding. "I think she's scared we'll send her back."
Before any of them could respond, the door to the hall hissed open with a low chime.
Warmth and faint sandalwood perfume drifted in with the sound of soft footsteps.
"Am I interrupting?" came Selene's voice — light, melodic, carrying that natural ease she always brought into a room.
She entered in a fitted violet robe, her pale hair braided high, gold accents gleaming faintly beneath the shop's lights. Her eyes found Jade first and, as always, softened.
Without waiting for permission, she crossed the space and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a half-hug, half-cuddle that made Niamh exhale through her nose in exasperation.
"You look like you haven't slept in days," Selene murmured, ignoring his mild resistance. "Kael says if you collapse, he'll drag you to the med-wing himself."
Jade sighed. "Tell him to focus on the city's black market first. That's what's collapsing."
Selene chuckled softly against him, then drew back, her expression turning serious. "He's already started. The Governor launched an official investigation this morning. But…" her gaze flicked toward Niamh, "…they only caught decoys. Every major underworld node went dark within the hour."
Jade's jaw tightened. "So they buried the real handlers."
"They ran," Selene corrected. "Every den, every broker, every pit. Vanished like smoke. No names. No ledgers. Just burned trails and scared intermediaries."
Lio frowned. "But… why shut everything down? Aren't they powerful?"
"Because," Selene said softly, "the girl survived."
Her eyes lifted toward the closed door of the sickroom. "And someone like her talking is enough to burn half the underworld."
The silence that followed was heavy — too heavy for the hum of glowstones to fill.
Niamh's voice broke it first, low and steady. "So they're scared."
"They should be." Jade said, pushing off the counter. His tone was mild, but there was a current beneath it — something cold, threaded with quiet promise.
Selene studied him for a moment, as though trying to read what lay behind his expression. Then she smiled faintly , not because she found anything amusing, but because she recognized the shift.
"You're planning something," she said.
Jade didn't deny it. "Not yet. But when she wakes again, I'll know where to start."
Selene tilted her head, studying his profile. The faint silver glow in his eyes, the unshaken calm that masked old wounds. For all his youth, there was something ancient about him.
Something that didn't belong to a child, nor a boy of the slums.
She stepped closer, voice softer now. "Be careful, Jade. There are names in those shadows that even Kael can't touch."
Jade's lips curved, not in a smile, but in acknowledgment. "Then I'll touch them for him."
Selene's gaze lingered, and for a heartbeat, she saw it: that same quiet ferocity Kael once carried before their bond tempered him. But in Jade, it was unrestrained. Unrefined. Still burning in the shape of purpose.
"I'll tell Kael what you said," she whispered.
He glanced at her. "Tell him to focus on keeping the council out of this. The rest…"
His eyes flicked toward the sickroom again, then back to her.
"…leave to me."
Selene nodded slowly, though worry shadowed her face. Then, as if realizing the weight in the air had grown too heavy, she grinned, sudden and mischievous.
"Fine. But if you get yourself blown up again, I'll drag you to the bathhouse myself and scrub the soot off. Don't test me."
Lio snorted a laugh. Even Niamh's mouth twitched.
Jade only rolled his eyes and yet, the tension in the room eased, like a held breath finally released.
Outside, the night deepened.
In the slums beyond the city's glow, unseen eyes watched, and the embers of fear began to spread through the dark. From one den to another, from whispered names to shuttered rooms.
And somewhere beneath that spreading panic, the city held its breath, waiting for the next move of the boy the underworld had begun to fear.
----------------------------------------------------------
Morning filtered through the reinforced glass walls of The Silver Ward, painting soft streaks of amber across shelves lined with potions, glowing vials, and stacks of rune-etched instruments. The city outside was its usual chaos of noise and color but inside the shop, there was quiet. A brittle, heavy sort of quiet.
The girl sat on one of the recovery wards near the corner window, her legs drawn up under a blanket Amara had fussed over three times already. Her hair once tangled and dull had been brushed smooth. Lio was perched beside her, holding up a holo-pad displaying little animated creatures that chased lights around the screen.
"You like 'em?" Lio asked, grinning. "They're Voidlings, the harmless ones, I promise. My brother says they live in the cracks between stars!"
The girl's lips twitched, just slightly. A ghost of a smile. "They're… cute," she whispered.
"Cute? They're vicious!" Lio declared, gasping dramatically until Amara smacked him on the shoulder.
"Stop trying to scare her, runt," Amara said, voice firm but fond. "She's had enough nightmares."
Jade watched from the back counter, polishing a mana-scriber, his eyes faintly luminescent as he surveyed the auras in the shop. The girl's essence was soft and fractured ,shimmering with threads of fear and confusion. But it had steadied since she'd been brought here. He didn't intrude; he simply watched. His Void Sense spread subtly through the structure, brushing over every mana presence nearby. Nothing unusual....yet.
Then, the bell over the door chimed.
Two figures stepped inside. A middle aged man and a woman , dressed in neatly pressed travel coats, the kind worn by citizens from the Inner Districts. The woman's eyes were already wet, the man's hands trembling as he held out a folded holo-ident.
"Please...!" The woman's voice cracked. "We've been searching everywhere! Is this where they brought her? Our daughter, our baby, please tell us she's here!"
Lio blinked, startled. Amara froze mid-step.
Jade turned slowly, setting the mana-scriber down.
The woman rushed forward, her tears spilling freely as she caught sight of the girl. "Oh, Arin! Arin, my sweet girl!"
The girl stiffened immediately. Her fingers clutched the blanket, knuckles white. Her pupils shrank in sheer terror.
The man came closer, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Sweetheart, it's all right now. We're here. Your sister's waiting for you. You'll come home with us, won't you?"
Amara's brows furrowed. "Wait!, this girl was rescued under Governor's protection. You can't just—"
The man raised the holo-ident quickly. "We have clearance from the city records look!" A shimmering projection appeared; falsified, expertly done, the kind of forgery that would pass any ordinary scan.
But Jade didn't even glance at it.
He could feel their lies — the wrong pulse in their aura, the acrid stench of blood essence clinging beneath their skin, faint but unmistakable. Killers. Predators pretending to be parents.
His eyes narrowed slightly. "You're from the Inner Districts?"
"Yes," the woman said smoothly. "Her father's a merchant, very wealthy. You must've heard—"
"I don't listen to gossip," Jade interrupted softly. "Lio, Amara, step back."
The girl's breathing quickened. Her eyes darted between the impostors and Jade. Her body trembled as she rose to her feet, each motion hesitant. When the woman opened her arms, the girl flinched—but then, slowly, she took one step forward. Then another.
"Arin," Jade said quietly.
She turned halfway, eyes glistening with tears.
"It's okay," she whispered. 'If I don't go, they'll hurt my sister…' She thought silently.
Amara started forward. "Wait, don't—!"
But Jade lifted a hand. His expression didn't change, voice calm. "Let her go."
Amara's jaw dropped. "Jade—what the hell—"
"Let her go," he repeated, eyes on the girl.
The woman reached out, wrapping trembling arms around the child's shoulders, feigning relief. "See? It's over, sweetie. We'll get you home."
They turned toward the door.
As they passed, Jade's gaze flickered once — faint, violet-black light pulsing under his irises. His fingers brushed the edge of his sleeve in a subtle movement, no more than a whisper and a thin thread of shadow, invisible to all but him, lashed forward like a serpent and coiled around the girl's ankle.
[Darkness Mark – Applied]
The door closed behind them. Silence stretched.
Lio's fists balled up. "Why did you let her go!? They're bad people, I could feel it—"
Jade turned his head slightly, his tone even. "I know."
Amara glared at him. "Then why—"
"Because now," Jade said, eyes glinting faintly, "they'll take me to the rest of them."
He looked toward the door — where the morning light spilled across the floor like a thin blade.
And though his voice remained calm, something colder, older, flickered beneath it.
"Lock the shop," he said. "No one leaves until I return."
"If anything happens while I'm gone, call Gorvoth". He added.
....