The night had been difficult. Zari spent it consoling her sister, who had broken down as soon as they reached their quarters. Although she tried to hide it outwardly, she knew that inside she still hadn't recovered from the betrayal of her former love. Her heart was broken, yes, but the worst part was the remorse for what she had to do afterward…

Still, in the end, they managed to rest, and when they went down to the main hall the next morning, they found Toothpick and the others waiting for them at a table. The tavern had a very different atmosphere from the previous night. Now there were only a few customers left, and most of the noise came from outside, from the docks, the port workers, and the seagulls flying around. All the windows were open for ventilation, and a gentle breeze carried the various smells of the sea inside.

They had decided to accept these men’s help. They didn’t have many other options, and besides, they already knew the castle, the medallion, and the story. At least, in part. They reached an agreement while having a breakfast of hot porridge and boiled eggs. They would earn double what they agreed on the first time, and in return, they would accompany them back to their home in Verdemar. Toothpick was very clear on one point: they had to avoid the city of Terranevada, even if it meant taking a detour. He didn't want to explain why, and her sister respected that without arguing. “We all march with our own burdens,” as their mother used to say. Zari opted for some spiced milk and dry biscuits, but the rest preferred a good jug of mead. Anything rather than risk drinking the filthy water of the place.

While trying to chew one of the hard cookies served by Rosaida, for that was the waitress's name, she listened to Toothpick’s plan for approaching the castle without arousing suspicion. He thought of posing as a family of merchants. They would have to buy a cart and fill it with sacks of grain, where they would hide the necessary items to sneak into the castle. This would cost a lot of money, given the urgency. Fortunately, her sister had quite a bit of savings. She knew Lysa was worried about these men. They were thieves, after all. They had practically just met and she feared they might take advantage of them midway through the journey, or worse. She had taken some protective measures in secret. But Zari trusted them. They didn't seem like bad people. Apart from being thieves, of course. Besides, she felt a certain curiosity about the boy everyone called Wart. Perhaps something more. She found him quite cute. And very shy. She loved that.

So they did, and after spending the morning at the market to finally buy a rickety cart for triple its value and the sacks of grain for almost quadruple, they picked up the horses from the stables at noon, setting off again toward Brademond Castle.

Hours passed. The farms and mills were left behind, and they once again entered the forest they had crossed the previous day. In her head, Zari reviewed everything that had happened in such a short time. The unfortunate theft of the pendant, their search, finding and hiring the thieves, the fake medallion... Absorbed in these thoughts, she began to lag behind the group until she was riding alone, trailing the others. Toothpick was at the front, followed by Crab on the cart, closely followed by Wart. And right behind them, her sister.

It had been a couple of hours since they left the city behind, and the heat was intense. She felt a bit drowsy and was starting to get hungry again, though she tried to keep her mind occupied, thinking about many things at once, but none in particular. Why would the count want the pendant? She had her suspicions and didn’t like them at all. Soon she noticed that Wart’s white mare had slowed down until they were side by side. She tried not to show any emotion. Still, she felt a bit nervous. For a slightly awkward moment, neither spoke until Wart finally plucked up the courage.

“So, Zarinia, right?” he said, his voice a bit shaky.

“Yes, but you can call me Zari. Zarinia is only used by my sister or my mother when they’re angry with me,” the girl replied, smiling. “And your real name is Rendel, right?”

“Wow, how did you know?” Wart replied, astonished. “Did you use your witch powers?”

“Nooo, Crab told me. He gave me everyone’s name. His, Brisur, and your boss’s, Alaric,” Zari replied, laughing. “And in any case, they wouldn’t be witch powers but sorceress powers.”

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“Oh, forgive me… It’s just that I’m not clear on it,” Wart said with a tone of apology that immediately changed to indignation. “Well, you must have caught him in a good mood; we don’t go around telling our real names to just anyone who asks.”

“It must be my witch powers,” Zari replied defiantly.

There was a slight moment of tension, which Wart immediately broke with a silly grin.

“So you’re not a witch, you’re a sorceress.”

“Correct,” Zari said, regaining her smile.

“But I don’t see the difference. They’re all wizards anyway, right?”

“A wizard is anyone who uses magic. But I suppose it’s like me finding the difference between a thief and a bandit.”

“Well, they’re nothing alike. A bandit is a brute who, if he wants to take something from you, will do it by force. And then, if he feels like it, he’ll rape you. And kill you to leave no witnesses. And not necessarily in that order,” Wart replied, somewhat offended. “We thieves, on the other hand, practice an art. It takes years to refine our skills. And we don’t go around killing people unless there’s no other choice. In fact, for a thief, it’s a great honor to carry out his business without anyone noticing.”

“See? Just as not all rogues like you are the same, the same goes for wizards. Depending on where their magic comes from, there are different types.”

“Yeah… And what makes sorcerers different?”

“Sorcerers study how things happen and make them happen. Let’s say we gain Power through knowledge. Or rather, knowledge helps us channel Power.”

“Of course…,” the boy murmured, looking confused. “No, I don’t get it.”

“Your wound, for example. Over time, it was going to close and heal naturally. Since I know the process well, I simply channeled the Power to make it happen the same way, but faster.”

“Simply… And witches, then?”

“They draw power from nature. It’s another type of magic, wilder, more chaotic. Not more powerful, nor weaker. Just different.”

“And there are more types of wizards?” Wart’s curiosity was endless.

“Of course!” Zari replied excitedly, starting to count on her fingers. “There are priests, who practice thaumaturgy. They channel Power through relics, meditation, and things like that. You’ve seen them in temples if you’ve attended any of their worship rituals. Boring. Then there are alchemists, who distill Power with a lot of formulas, gadgets, and mixtures. Also very boring. Then there are seers, spiritists, mentalists, necromancers… They’re all a bunch of dullards. Sorcerers are the most fun.”

“Sure you are…,” Wart said with a slight smile and some sarcasm.

They continued riding in silence for a while. They were reaching the same clearing where they had stopped the previous day. They would probably stop there for lunch and rest. Another topic of conversation occurred to Zari.

“Wart… Why do you use such ugly nicknames? If I had to use one, I’d choose something more… captivating. Something like ‘the Fox,’ ‘the Shadow,’ ‘the Phantom’…”

“Or ‘the Master,’ ‘the Ace,’ or even ‘the King,’” Wart replied, laughing. “If we could choose nicknames, we’d all call ourselves that. But in this world, the nickname is given by others. And with a lot of bad intentions. There’s always some bastard who looks for the worst possible name.”

Zari remained silent, thinking. A gesture the boy misinterpreted.

“Sorry if my language offended you; I’m not used to talking to ladies of your kind,” he said, a little embarrassed.

“What? Oh! No, you have nothing to apologize for,” Zari replied, laughing. “Besides, we’re not nobles, if that’s what you mean. May I ask you something?”

“Sure!” the boy replied, relieved.

“Your nickname, Wart, what’s it for?”

“Well, to be honest, I’ve never really known. I think it’s because as a child, I was very small and too restless. Like a wart on the butt. But as long as I can remember, they’ve always called me that, and no one has ever been able to explain why.”

“There are a lot of bastards around, yes…,” Zarinia concluded, laughing.

Finally, as she imagined, they reached the clearing and prepared to rest. While securing the horses and Crab started to prepare the fire, she noticed her sister and Toothpick walking away a bit to talk about something. They looked quite serious. She thought they made a good couple. But it was too soon after… what happened. Besides, her sister was too arrogant to get involved with a thief. And she had already told her the night before that she didn’t like her getting so friendly with Wart. And it didn’t seem like Toothpick could stand her sister much. According to Rendel, Alaric thought of Lysandra as a stuck-up snob. A shame, she wouldn’t have minded seeing them together. Maybe then her sister’s heart would find some peace.