Ryn didn't sleep well that night.
Not because of the maps. Not because of the anomaly.
Because the square itself seemed to remember him. The cracks in the stone, the marks of yesterday's chaos, they whispered judgment.
When he stepped outside, people were watching.
Some with curiosity. Some with suspicion. Some with outright fear.
He lowered his gaze. I didn't hurt anyone on purpose…
But intentions rarely mattered to the city.
Kael fell into step beside him. "You look like someone who just realized the world doesn't care about excuses," he said quietly.
Ryn gave a weak smile. "I'm starting to get that."
Kael glanced at him, expression unreadable. "Good. You'll need it. The rogue cartographer doesn't care about excuses either."
Ryn's stomach knotted. "They're… watching me?"
Kael nodded. "And probably everyone who matters too. Guild's council included."
Great.
At the Guild, Master Elara waited. Her presence alone demanded attention, silence, and respect.
"You've shown skill," she said. "But skill is not mastery. And mastery is not protection. The rogue cartographer's influence spreads beyond Bramblewick. The city itself is at risk."
Ryn swallowed. At risk? He hadn't thought beyond maps and boundaries before.
She gestured to a large, partially completed city map on the table. Lines shimmered like liquid. "The areas you've stabilized are safe… for now. But every misstep, hesitation, or fear you let show becomes an opening. You must learn to anticipate consequences before they arrive."
Ryn's hands itched toward the quill. "I… I understand."
Kael's voice came from behind him: "Understanding isn't enough. You're going to have to act."
Ryn shivered. "I will."
Outside later that afternoon, the square looked deceptively calm.
Children played near repaired carts. Vendors shouted their wares. The city went on as if yesterday had never happened.
But Ryn noticed subtle shifts, lines in the cobblestones that weren't quite right, shadows that flickered wrong.
The anomaly had left traces.
Ryn tightened his grip on the satchel. He and Kael had trained together, but now he felt the weight: they had to protect everyone, not just each other.
Kael caught his gaze. "Scared?"
Ryn shook his head, though his chest burned. "No. Alert. Cautious. Aware."
Kael smirked faintly. "Good. That's better than scared."
Better than scared. That sounded almost like preparation. Like survival.
When they returned to the Guild, whispers followed them. Other apprentices, curious and fearful, avoided their path.
"You're changing the city," someone muttered under their breath.
Ryn felt the weight of those words. He wasn't a hero. Not yet. But the city, and everyone in it, already treated him like one.
Kael gave him a sidelong glance, unspoken words hanging between them. We're in this together, whether you like it or not.
Ryn met his eyes and felt a spark of something unfamiliar. Confidence? Trust? Something that didn't exist before, but might.
That night, alone, Ryn traced the anomaly's path in the satchel map.
Lines pulsed faintly, as if acknowledging him.
They're watching, he thought. And I'm responsible.
Somewhere far away, another quill moved across parchment, deliberate, knowing.
Ryn Elowen, it whispered. The city notices you. And so do I.