“What do you mean by negative numbers?” Valka looks at me bewildered. “How can something be less than nothing? Is it like void magic?”

I take a deep breath and release all the frustration with a sigh. This explanation will be a long and painful one…

“If you… for example spend all your money but still owe someone, you are even worse than broke. Like, even if you earn a few coins, it will just get taken away since you’re in debt.” I try my luck with an example and hope her mind comprehends.

Deep focus and a myriad of expressions play on her face, with confusion being the main one. She’s trying, which I value and is the only reason I keep trying, although the knowledge is still far out of reach.

Then something seems to click. “Why would I let anyone take my money?”

I facepalm and think of another example. Poor Martha, had this talk a thousand times already. Right, Martha, how did she…

“Stand up!” I order her and looking at my patience running thin she does so promptly. “Right where you’re standing is zero steps. If you go forward a step that’s one, another is two. You follow?”

“I’m not an idiot!” Valka protests. “This is just stupid.”

“Sure, sure.” I wave her off. “If you take a step back, that is…”

“Minus one?” She answers with a sprinkle of hesitation.

The answer is correct, however, I feel like she only said it because I’m pushing the whole thing. I hate that she’s not dumb, far from it, but both back where she lived and… well, everything that happened after required very little education.

Damn muscle heads.

“Also what is this about multiplying two negative stuff and a positive comes out?” She throws her hands in the air, but at least I finally managed to hammer this into her.

“Turn around, turn around again. Wow, you’re facing the same direction.” Aaron sitting nearby explains with sarcasm oozing from his voice.

“Yeah? Then what about positive numbers? Why don’t they become negative?” Val crosses her arms like she won the argument already.

“Don’t turn around, don't turn around again. Wow, you’re facing the same direction.” He says with a dead serious face.

Fleur and I are not considerate enough to hold back the laughter and just burst out into Valka’s reddening face. She curses and huffs as we have a great time at her expanse. Let’s hope embarrassment is a better teacher than I am.

“Stop laughing already you jerks!” Valka growls, at me in particular, and tries changing topics. “Why are we even stranded here?”

That’s something we all would love to know. We’ve been just sitting around and waiting for the detachment of riders to sort things out with the merchants. They claimed it was some routine checks and that things would blow over in no time… That was three hours ago. The soldiers seem official enough with insignias, horses, banners, weapons and the whole shebang, that’s not what worries me.

How deep is corruption running in this country? I get they’re fighting an eternal war up north but that’s not a good enough excuse to let everything else rot at home.

“Don’t worry, in the worst case we have to continue on foot.” Fleur shrugs and takes the stick from Valka. “See, you get negative numbers when you subtract a bigger one from a smaller…”

I hope she can digest all the stuff I’m trying to teach her before we reach Granhall. I wouldn’t be surprised if they just sent me to the Academy with the next batch and don’t want to leave Val behind. She is… very far from being a member of the academic society. Wisdom is chasing her but she’s faster.

“What’s on your mind?” Aaron pokes my cheek, bugging me to alleviate his boredom.

“Honestly, I’m not sure what the future holds, what we’ll do in the next months and how everyone will react.” I tell him the redacted truth because I don’t feel like explaining all my thoughts. “Can’t you just cut off her collar or something?”

Because I know I would.

“It’s not that simple.” Duh. “ There’s enough mana stored inside that junk to blow her head off the moment the outer circuits break. Could I tear it to shreds fast enough? Maybe, unlikely.” Then he ponders for a few seconds. “Void magic is always the answer but even then it’s risky. Better leave it to professionals.”

“Hm.” I agree but it was still worth a shot. “What magic do you use? I’m just curious as a fellow Mage.”

It’s been a while since I last had the time and opportunity to just play around with my mana and do something that isn’t meant to be destructive or hurt someone.

“Oh, I know what you’re playing at. I heard the stories about a little devil stealing techniques.” He chuckles.

It seems my reputation preceded me once again. Nice but also not nice.

“Is that a no?” I’m shameless and curious enough to ask.

Instead of answering he just huffs and swipes towards a few nearby trees with his hand. The mighty plants, twice as thick as me, decide to stand tall for a couple more seconds before leaning to the side and hitting the ground with a loud thud.

Every head snaps in their direction, before throwing a few accusatory glances our way but I ignore them completely.

“How did you do that?” I mutter, already examining the marks left by the cut.

It’s not smooth like a blade, neither charred nor ragged. The blemishes on the surface are almost undiscernible by the eye but when I touch it…

“I hope this keeps you occupied while we wait.” Ge snickers but I literally couldn’t care less about his words right now. Except of course more details this… is this even a wind blade anymore?

The basic wind blade is supposed to cut like a sword, like a blade, but the surface doesn’t match. Nor did the amount of mana when compared to the outcome.

“It’s like it tore through the wood but instead of a pushing force but also tore through it…” I murmur under my nose examining what I was given.

Then seconds turn to minutes, and those minutes multiply fast.

I don’t get it. It shouldn’t work. A sawing motion would just tear. Butchers chop, and lumberjacks… also chop, but they also saw. Different materials, different techniques.

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“How does it do both?” I ask for a small clue, a little snippet because admitting you don’t understand is okay.

“You’re close.” Aaron chuckles. “And that’s scary. It took me years to arrive there.”

I don’t take this as a compliment. “You showed me something and I just need to see. There’s nothing praiseworthy about that.” And I mean it.

It’s frustrating only because I’m close. Since it clearly works and he implied it's not the attributes, which I’ll believe for now, means my logic is skewed. Just chopping is fine against anything soft. On the other hand Endurance and armor both work wonders against a simple cut. The marks on the tree are nothing like a handsaw would leave, they’re too smooth.

I look at Aaron for any more clues and he just shakes his head.

Again the journey matters little when only the end result can make my wind magic slash better. This useless jerk could just blurt out the method and he would lose nothing.

Maybe a bit of ego.

A merchant meekly approaches our little group messing around in the dirt. “Uhm… I-We might have a small problem.” He stutters and us looking at him helps little. “The company was… uhm… found guilty of fraud and tax evasion so our assets are being seized. So…”

“No more carts, no more food, no nothing.” Fleur groans and rolls her eyes. “We wasted hours here for nothing. Great.” She pushes herself up and walks towards the carts for our stuff.

“Some of us will be arrested for later interrogation while the others, such as myself, are left stranded here.” He gulps loud enough for everyone to hear. “I was wondering if we could purchase your services to accompany us till the nearest settlement.” He grins and rubs his hands. “Our previous escorts fled after the soldiers arrived so the pay will be-”

“Not another word.” Aaron frowns in the face of the man. “We didn’t stick around for either money or the company. Ask the dear servants of the law if anything.” His frown turns into a devilish grin. “Let’s see how that money of yours will save you now. The power of wealth as you merchants call it.”

Fleur digs through all the contents of the cart we stayed in and liberates our supplies in no time. The soldiers seem hesitant to stop her, even though the cart and everything on it is about to be confiscated.

That woman is every bit as intimidating as she should be and at least the soldiers know who not to mess with. The usual flash of the Fist’s badge helps tremendously. It’s a signal to piss off and don’t stick your nose here.

“Pack up, we’re leaving.” She barks, clearly grumpy, and throws everyone their respective bags.

“On foot?” I ask just to be clear.

“Yeah.”

“How far?” I ask the question that, in hindsight, I don’t wanna know.

“A week.”

Bollocks, as Bennett would put it. I hate walking.

“Val, carry me?” I show my best puppy eyes and cute voice.

“Fat chance.” She chuckles and walks past me.

Stupid merchants, stupid soldiers, stupid kleptomaniac business, stupid Valka …

***

By the time the last rays of Solaire withdrew their light from the land, we reached another city and I thanked the Gods for not having to sleep on the ground again. It’s better than the spider lair was, or the streets when a task took a little longer than expected…

I know my standards basically hit rock bottom so, yeah time to change that. A bed for me, please.

The bed had to wait, however. Considering we were now around the heartlands of Turan the cities were getting bigger and more populated. More residents equals more traffic which means a longer line to get past the gates. The usual. The collar on Valka, even though somewhat hidden, did draw some nasty looks but in the end, we got in no problem.

The streets are lit, bustling with humans, mostly, although there are a lot more gnomes and beastkin here than even in Granhall. This place, Serkin, is a major trade hub only about a week away from the Valerian border and more importantly, home.

There is life in the night with the difference of a quiet mutual grim determination. The walls surrounding the city look ancient and the buildings are quite tall according to my standards. If there is no more space horizontally they have to build vertically, and preferably upwards. Everything is made out of stone, looks sturdy, and has probably been rebuilt a few times already.

In true Turani fashion, most buildings are plain, simple, and sturdy-looking well above what most might consider necessary. Stone dominates most surfaces, especially the ancient outer walls about three hundred years old and clearly repaired a few times. Since the wall hadn’t been extended yet the population kept growing building vertically was the only option turning most houses into towers with bridges running between the higher floors.

Serkin certainly has a unique look but the people calling it home are no different from any other citizen of Turan. Grim, hardy yet full of life.

Turan has been waging an eternal war for more than a millennium and going to sleep only to find a call-to-arms notice on your door the next morning isn’t unheard of. They live more passionately yet also stricter. Everyone is expected to at least be able to protect themselves, they are fighters and survivors. Heck, even their ruler is called the Battle Queen.

“No luck?” Fleur asks as Aaron stomps out of yet another tavern. The Red Antler, the fourth one we visited just tonight, and judging by his expression this one was booked as well.

Just build more people and get rich, it is not that difficult. I think we’re ready to offer quadrupled pay by now. It’s on the Fist anyway.

“They told me another place a few streets from here should still have rooms. It’s a bit tucked away.” Aaron huffs and walks on right after passing the news.

That’s what they said the last two times… I’m actually down to breaking in at this point, I have the experience and I doubt anyone would hold it against us even if we were discovered.

***

Aaron wasn’t exaggerating when he said the place was out of sight, and clearly did when he said a few streets. A few means below seven in my book and we’re way past that.

“Are you sure-” Fleaur opens her mouth to complain.

“Yes… I think. I don’t fucking know.” Aaron grumbles and throws his hands up.

“Shouldn’t we go back-” I try to reason.

“Tsk, shut it. We can’t.” Aaron interrupts. Because it’d be embarrassing, I can respect that.

We’re lost. Some streets, dark and crooked, left supposedly veteran mercenaries in the dirt. Kinda pathetic not gonna lie.

“I’ll fly up for a sec.” Aaron whispers as if anyone around here would care and raises a hand. “Before any of you remind me that it's likely forbidden… I know, just a quick peek over the buildings.”

With that wind swirls around him and his body lifts like someone is pulling him on a rope upwards. I pop Mana Vision and attempt to burn the way his magic moves into my memory.

I really want to fly too.

He sticks to the buildings and peeks his head over the rooftop.

“Can’t we just literally buy some horses and ride home?” I ask Fleur.

“Nah, that would be a bit too pricey and neither of you can ride.” She swiftly ends the conversation.

“Can we at least get something that isn’t stale bread to eat? You know, like actual food since we’re in a city…” I can’t help the sass, tiredness and hunger are foul adversaries.

“We might not be able to get both so what do you want, food or a bed?” And Fleur is in no better mood, let’s avoid having conversations.

I just pout, walk over to the next corner, sit down on a box, and get to cleaning myself in case we do find lodgings. Going to bed all sweaty, itchy, and dusty… no thanks.

My day doesn’t need any more turns for the worse, I hate it already. I knew the start of the trip went too smoothly, the first few days of leisure and peace in the back of the cart… it’s always an alarming sign.

I still keep an eye on Aaron, more precisely his magic, and come to a conclusion. It’s a Skill. The way wind gathers beneath his feet and armpits, closely coating him like a third skin… it’s simply too well made. The flow and density of magic are too consistent, only Skills given by the Journey Guide can achieve something like that. Or mages with ridiculous control but I haven't seen anyone like that though. Probably not even Martha.

As I ponder about what can and cannot be achieved by magic a hand reaches out from the shadows and clamps down on my mouth. Frozen by surprise and panic, I only manage a muffled scream before another arm envelops me and starts hauling me away with breakneck speed.

But I’m not a complete amateur.

It’s shadows again most likely but I’m kinda used to them at this point.

A masked figure, likely a man with his face obstructed and grip far too strong for me to wrestle myself free. Our speed also tells me that lighting or wind would do precious little to make him let go.

Fleur reacts in an instant to my cry but before she can bolt after us a wall of glistening ice erupts in our wake, blocking her path. It only takes seconds for the half-elf woman to break through it like an enraged bull and I can see Valka bolting right after her. The other attacker, who raised the wall, however, seems determined to not let them pass.

Clearly a woman, judging by the long silvery hair floating behind her, wielding a spear and throwing massive javelins of ice at my friend and escorts. The wench glances back at me as I’m dragged into the night and a pair of purple eyes meet mine.

Purple… Wait, they aren’t shadows!