Benson led us through the narrow streets of Elvensham, the disrepair growing worse the closer we got to the eastern gate. The buildings here seemed to lean under their own weight, many with wooden scaffolding in place, as if repairs had been started but abandoned long before completion. Gaps in the walls revealed crumbling interiors, while broken windows stared out like hollow eyes. The cold air felt heavier here, a mix of neglect and decay pressing down on everything.

“Here he is now,” Benson said, his voice as rough as the stone streets beneath our feet. “I’ll leave you all to it. Can’t leave Desa on her own... not at the moment, anyway.” He turned abruptly and walked off, not even bothering with a goodbye.

I couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by "not at the moment." Was Desa in danger, or had something else happened that he hadn’t mentioned?

“Bendal, it’s been a while,” Trendil greeted the approaching man, extending his hand.

Bendal, a weathered man with a hard face softened by a smile, grasped Trendil’s outstretched hand firmly. “That it has, old friend,” he replied. “Desa’s been talking about you non-stop this past span. You’d think her entire week revolved around when you’d be showing up.”

Trendil chuckled. “What can ever make that girl happy?” He shot Bendal a knowing look, and the two shared a private laugh.

The light-hearted moment quickly passed as Trendil got back to business. “Have you seen the boy, Dashan? Any signs of him?”

Bendal’s expression grew serious, his eyes scanning the surrounding streets as if expecting the boy to appear any moment. “The Veilguard are crawling all over the place. I saw two of them a few streets back, searching through the empty buildings, and two more near the eastern gate. If they’re sniffing around, word’s likely gotten to them about Dashan. He’s probably hiding somewhere close, but with the Ministry at the gate, he’s not getting out of the city that way anytime soon.”

“Damn, that complicates things,” Trendil muttered, looking around warily. “Just us being here will raise suspicion. The Veilguard won’t hesitate to take us in for questioning if they see us lingering.”

“Yeah, ‘questioning,’” Bendal said, the word dripping with contempt. “And then they’ll let us right back out, yeah? Maybe with a new cloak and a horse for our trouble.” He spat on the ground, his hatred for the enforcers clear.

Trendil sighed. “Alright, we’ll split up. Bendal, you take the upper streets on the right. I’ll check out the eastern gate. Ragan,” he turned to me, “I need you to scout the area to the left. Stick to the shadows. If you’re confronted, run. Don’t—”

I cut him off with a firm voice. “Old man, I’ve infiltrated more encampments, keeps, and castles than you can imagine. Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”

Trendil gave me a measured look, then nodded. “Fine. Just be careful. We need to get to Dashan before the Ministry does.”

With that, we all set off in our designated directions. I kept low and to the shadows, moving quietly as I slipped between the buildings. The city was vast, and the sheer size of it made me realize this could take all night. Searching for a single boy in this maze of broken structures seemed impossible.

I thought about what I’d do if I were him—a young boy, terrified, knowing that someone was coming to capture me. I’d want to be somewhere where I could see my pursuers coming, somewhere I’d have an advantage. But I’d also want warmth. Staying still in the cold was a death sentence. The longer you stayed in one place, the harder it became to move again.

That’s when I spotted the bell tower.

If you could even call it that. The structure was in a state of total ruin. Rotten beams and broken trusses made the whole thing sway dangerously in the wind, as if the next strong gust would bring it crashing down. You’d have to be mad to hide in a place like that—or a child who didn’t know any better.

I stuck to the shadows, hugging the edges of buildings as I made my way toward the tower. Trendil had warned me not to use magic, but scaling that crumbling structure without help would likely bring the whole thing down. I compromised, using just a touch of wind magic, barely enough to lighten my steps as I climbed.

Halfway up, I heard it: the faint sound of teeth chattering and soft scuffling. Something small was moving around above me.

“Dashan,” I called out in a low voice, careful not to startle him. “I’m here to help. I’m a friend of Desa’s. Don’t move—the structure’s unstable. It might come down any moment.”

There was no reply, just a tense silence. I strained to hear, but what I caught instead were voices from outside the tower.

“What about that bell tower? Looks like it’s about to topple,” one voice said, gruff and impatient.

“Come off it. Who’d be stupid enough to go in there? You won’t catch me within fifty feet of that place. It’s ready to fall any moment,” another voice answered with a snort of laughter.

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“That’s exactly why it’s the perfect place to hide,” the first voice insisted. “I’m going to check it out.”

Panic tightened my chest. They were coming. We didn’t have much time.

I willed the cold from my body. I couldn’t let them search this place. Not only would they find us, but the enforcer was right—this tower was coming down. Carefully, I pried loose a stone from where a joist had once been, taking care not to make a sound or disturb the fragile structure. With a subtle gust of wind, I sent the stone flying through the open roof and into the distance, toward a derelict building several hundred feet away.

The stone smacked loudly against the building’s crumbling stone wall, the sound echoing through the night, followed by a low rumble as it rolled to a stop.

“Over there! Come on!” I heard one of the enforcers shout, and the sound of their footsteps faded as they ran toward the distraction.

Relieved, I continued my climb up the tower, using my wind magic to lighten my steps, the creaking structure groaning beneath me. Near the top, in the shadowy corner, I found him—Dashan. The small boy was huddled beneath a tattered blanket, shivering uncontrollably. His skin was deathly pale, and his lips were turning a sickening shade of blue.

I shifted my weight carefully, using the wind to stabilize the tower, and crouched beside him, wrapping my cloak around his frail body. “Well, you’ve gotten yourself into a right mess here,” I said gently, rubbing his arms and legs to warm him. “Let’s get you warm.”

Despite my efforts, he barely responded. His head hung limp, as though even the simple act of holding it up had become too much for him. Panic surged through me. I couldn’t let him die—not here, not like this. There had to be something I could do.

Then it hit me. Bloodburning. I hadn’t used it much since that day in the library, and it carried its risks. But if I could direct just a small amount of heat into the boy’s body, it might save his life.

I leaned in close, pressing my forehead to his. “Look, kid, things aren’t looking great right now, but I’m going to try something. Don’t be scared. You might feel some heat, but it’s going to be alright.”

With a steady breath, I placed my hand on his chest, feeling the frail rise and fall of his breath. I pooled my blood, reaching deep for the Elithria within it. Just like with wind, I took control of it, made it mine, and released a small, precise amount through my arms and into my hands. My palm hummed with power, sending a wave of warmth through the boy’s body.

Two things happened at once.

First, the warmth surged through Dashan, bringing color back to his cheeks as his head lifted, life returning to his fragile frame. But at the same moment, I lost control of the wind. Balancing two forms of Elithria at once was too much, and the tower groaned in protest as my weight shifted fully onto the fragile beams.

The structure tipped, teetering on the edge of collapse. There was no time. I wrapped Dashan in a protective bubble of wind, but couldn’t save myself. The tower came crashing down, and I hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs. Pain shot through my body as I struggled to breathe.

Through the haze of pain, I heard the enforcers approaching, their boots pounding on the cracked stone streets. Dashan stood by my side, a picture of health now despite the cold night air.

“Run...” I gasped, barely able to form the words. “Run!”

Dashan hesitated for a moment, then took off, sprinting away from the approaching enforcers. I struggled to my feet, pain searing through my chest as I pulled my sword from its sheath. It wasn’t the dull-edged training blade I had used before—this sword was sharp, lethal, and gleamed coldly in the moonlight.

Three enforcers rounded the corner, their eyes narrowing as they spotted me. When they saw the sword in my hand, they didn’t bother asking questions. They charged.

I took a deep breath, pulling on the wind that swirled around me, and sent loose stones flying from the crumbling buildings toward the enforcer on the left. The bricks struck him, causing him to stumble and stop his advance.

At the same time, I ran toward the enforcer in the middle. Sliding low to the ground just as his sword came swinging toward me, I ducked beneath the strike and slashed upward. My blade cut through his midsection, and he crumpled to the ground.

But before I could react, the third enforcer was on me. His sword clashed with mine, and we parried back and forth, the force of each strike sending shockwaves up my arm. He was skilled, but I called on the wind once more, pushing his blade aside as I struck at his neck. His eyes widened in shock as my sword cleaved through, his body standing for a moment longer before collapsing.

For a split second, I stood frozen, mesmerized by the sight. Then a searing pain exploded in my shoulder as the first enforcer, who had recovered, drove a dagger deep into my flesh. I screamed in rage, turning just in time to see him pull the blade back for another strike. But before he could, I held his hand in place with wind, his eyes widening in disbelief as I ran him through with my sword, never breaking eye contact.

Satisfaction welled up in me—it had been a long time since I’d felt the thrill of a fight like this. But the clatter of approaching boots pulled me back to reality. The boy. Dashan.

I sprinted through the alley, wind carrying me faster as I weaved between buildings. Rounding the corner, I slowed, my heart pounding in my chest. There he was, standing in an archway, his back turned to me. His hands were clenched at his sides, and he was staring down the street.

I stepped forward—but before I could reach him, a figure appeared from the shadows. A man, sword already drawn, drove the blade into Dashan’s heart. I screamed, stumbling forward as the boy collapsed.

“No! I’ll—” Bloodthirsty rage consumed me, and I began walking forward, my sword dripping with the blood of the enforcers. I would kill this man—I would—

But then I froze. My breath caught in my throat as I saw the man’s face. It was Reece. My Reece. Sophia’s Reece.

He stood there, sword buried deep in the lifeless body of Dashan, and smiled. The world seemed to tilt as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. Several guards came running around the corner, flanking Reece.

Reece kicked Dashan’s body aside with a sneer. “Get him!” he shouted.

The enforcers charged toward me, but I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed by the shock, by the betrayal. In the next moment, I was lifted off my feet, the ground blurring beneath me as Trendil wrapped his arms around me and pulled me through the air.

“Come on, lad,” he urged. “We need to move!”