Vidder stepped into the lamp-lit night of Soutvor. He had lost Niklas’ scent and had to search the surrounding areas by night. Here, the familiar smell of Niklas had returned.

His hands trembled, and he anxiously grabbed his armor to steady them. He should have brought more med.

“Hey, you!” someone cried from behind him in Relric. “Show yourself!”

He turned to see two uniformed night watch officers with rifles slung over their shoulders. They cried out when they saw him.

“Demon!” one cried as he fumbled for the rifle.

“The one that killed the sawmen!” the other cried as he did the same.

Vidder cursed himself as he realized he had forgotten to take off his drone mask.

Despite his lack of med, these men could be the boost of valor that he needed.

“Put your hands where we can see them!” one of the men cried.

“It’s a demon!” his companion shrieked. “Just shoot it!”

“I don’t have silver bullets!”

“Well, thank the old gods for that,” Vidder said in Relric, rolling his eyes. When his voice was filtered through his mask, it took on a metallic edge. He reached back and drew his duel Drone blades from his shoulder harness.

“Kill it!” one screamed as he pulled the trigger. His rifle bucked, but his shot went wide.

Vidder frowned as he looked to the side where the bullet had absently kicked up dirt a few feet away. He snorted. “Nice.”

The guard frantically pulled out a ramrod and fished for another bullet. His partner fired, and it took Vidder square in the chest.

Vidder staggered back a few steps with a gasp and glanced down at his chest piece.

The bullet had blasted a small star-shaped scar in the paint and a shallow divot in the metal before disintegrating into spall. What had the Relrins even done with their stolen Remnants to still use such primitive weapons?

The terrified guards screamed when they realized the bullet had been useless. Vidder charged them, and in a few speed-packed strides paired with a few well-placed strikes, their bodies dropped at his feet.

He let out a sigh of satisfaction as the valor inside burned hot. He regarded his Drone’s blades, now wet with blood, the crimson drops reflecting in the lamplight.

A muttering to his side roused him from his trance. A homeless man tried to edge away, never taking his eye off Vidder. How had Vidder missed him?

“Please!” the man whimpered. “I didn’t see anything.”

Vidder frowned again. He saw now that this man was a Sharderin. One who had stayed in Relgar. “Why do you shrink from your savior?” Vidder asked in Sharderic.

The man gasped in surprise. “That tongue. You’re–”

“A new Sharderin.” Vidder cut in. “You have no valor.” The man wasn’t worth the effort, so Vidder rammed one of his blades into one of the corpses on the ground and drew his prylux pistol.

Striiike. The yellow flair struck the man, threw him several meters, and slammed him against a building. The streetbound Sharderin collapsed to the ground in a motionless heap.

Vidder holstered his weapon, ripped his blade from the body at his feet, and trotted off. The noise had probably woken the immediate populace, and as much as he would like to lay waste to this town. He was here for Niklas.

“So Niklas... I hear you’ve been calling on Esther,” Ivar said, the mischief twinkling in his eyes.

“Yeah, I was with her pretty much all day yesterday,” Niklas said, unsure why Ivar was talking to him in such a diminutive tone.

Ivar laughed and let out a whoop. “Ah! So you like her?” he teased.

Niklas nodded. “Of course. She’s my friend. I like my friends, I like you.”

“Right, Niklas, but you… like her?”

“What?”

“As in, you want to be more than friends?”

“What more could I be than friends?” Niklas grew annoyed at Ivar’s vague hints.

“Come on, Mr. lived-in-the-woods. Surely even you know.”

“I know what?” Niklas demanded. “Speak sense, man!”

“Do you want to heat the hay with her?”

“Do I want to what?” Niklas asked ignorantly.

“Come on. Admit it. You’ve developed a bit of a crush, haven't you?”

“Look, I don’t know what that means! I don’t know what any of what you are saying means!”

“Let’s be real. Don’t pretend you weren’t thinking about it.”

“Ivar...thinking about what?”

“You know...love marriage…” Then he winked. “Little Niklas babies.”

Niklas shook his head in a stupor. Was Ivar drunk again? He couldn’t seem to put his words together.

“Come on, Niklas.” He grinned. “I know you’re dumb, but you are also a man.”

Niklas sighed in annoyance and turned away from him.

Ivar slapped his knee with a laugh. “I think he actually doesn’t know anything about women.”

“I could have told you that,” Niklas muttered. “I am a Drone. The only thing that I know about women is that they are sacred. I was banished for speaking to a woman, remember?”

Ivar rubbed his hands together in excitement. “Tord and Lill are married. It means they’re together. One unit. They also have kids. You see, when a man and a woman love each–”

“That’ll be enough from you!” Lill bellowed from across the room. “The poor boy is finally talking to women. No need to make him too scared to look us in the eye again!”

“Come on, why even young Rasmus know–”

“Thanks to you, you shameless man! What a stubborn uncle you are!”

Niklas watched the siblings shout at each other blank-faced and entirely lost.

Lill frowned. “Give him time. I do see what you mean, though, Ivar. Esther is a wonderful, hard-working woman, a domestic goddess, and lovely. She would make a wonderful wife.”

“Yeah,” Ivar agreed, and he tipped his chair back and began to examine his fingernails with a smug smirk. “I’d go after her myself if she was in my league.”

“Your league!” Lill shrieked in horror. “The harlots at Beth’s Brothel are too good for the likes of you, you slimy man!”

Niklas shook his head. Watching them fight about everything was a common occurrence. All he wanted to do was continue Esther’s reading lessons, so he excused himself from the alien debate.

Seeing his movement, Ivar turned to him. “Going to see Esther?” Ivar dragged out her name mockingly.

“Go to pit,” Niklas grunted, and the man snickered again.

Niklas left with Rasmus and walked to Esther’s apartment, where Robin was getting ready for work.

“Esther’s not in today,” Robin said as he shouldered his pack.

“Not in?” Niklas asked, startled. “Where is she?

“She left early, before John even. The Alred Manor staff needed help, so they called her in. I guess the Alreds are hosting a gathering and need hands getting ready.

“Oh,” Niklas said, looking down disappointed. “When will she be back?”

“I don’t know,” Robin admitted. “Evening, probably.”

“I see.”

“I’ll see you later.” Robin smiled apologetically. “I’m headed for the fields. The yard isn’t open yet. Apparently, the lumberyard murderer killed again in town.”

“Hopefully, the investigators find him quickly,” Niklas said. “The lawmen suspect me; I don’t need that pressure right now.”

“Was it you,” Rasmus demanded, his eyes squinted in suspicion?”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“What?” Niklas stammered at the boy.

“Probably not,” Rasmus sighed sadly. “You’ve been with us for the last few days.”

“You disappointed?” Robin snorted.

“I’m hoping to get some reward money,” Rasmus explained.

Robin shook his head, flabbergasted at the boy. “You’re way too bright for your age, kid. Way too crazy, too.

Niklas couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“Stay out of trouble, Niklas,” Robin cautioned. “They’ll get him soon enough.”

Robin left, and Niklas looked around at the empty compound. A sinking pit formed in his stomach. The compound was lifeless, like he was a prisoner with Rasmus as his warden.

“So...with Esther gone, you know what that means.” Rasmus stepped beside Niklas and threw some air jabs as an obvious hint.

“Maybe later.” Niklas waved him away. He wasn’t in the mood. He would get around to training Rasmus, but not now.

Esther was gone. Niklas passed the compound courtyard in unease.

Minutes ticked by, and he felt a strange sense of longing mixed with panic. He wouldn’t see Esther today; he shouldn’t have been so distraught, but he was.

He was being stupid. He could try to find work.

Coy. It was like he was freshly off med, but different. Like he desperately needed something that he couldn’t have. He shook his head. Stupid.

“Oh, knock that off, Niklas!” Lill called from the doorway. “If you’re so bored, you might as well do something useful with your time.”

“I don’t feel well,” Niklas said as he turned to her. Lill always seemed to care when he was unwell. “I’m… restless.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Niklas said. Then, looking at her pleadingly, he grunted in frustration. “Am I sick?”

“I don’t know,” Lill said, instantly shifting from annoyance to concern. “Come here.”

Niklas went over to her, and she placed a hand on his forehead.

“You seem fine,” she said. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t know. Tense. Disturbed.”

“Hmm. Wait, why aren't you with Esther? I thought you said you were going to visit her.”

“She’s gone.” Niklas lamented. “Working at a Manor.”

“I know what this is,” Lill laughed.

“What?” Niklas asked.

“You are sick.”

Niklas paled. He hated being sick. “With what? I’m not sick in a way I’ve been before.”

Lill let out a new laugh and grabbed him by the shoulder. “You’re lovesick!”

“Ooooh, Niklas is in looooove!” Rasmus chortled.

“What?” Niklas cried. “I don’t love Esther! She’s just my friend. Even if I did, you told me love was important, not that it can make me sick! Is it fatal?”

“In a way, yes!”

“Why are you laughing?” Niklas demanded. “You think this is funny?”

Lill wheezed with laughter, holding her sides. “Yes, very. You miss Esther, don’t you?”

“How did you know?” Niklas asked, startled by her insight.

“That’s how love sickness works. You want to see Esther, and she’s not here. So you can’t sit still.”

“How do I make it go away?” Niklas asked. “It’s ridiculous and useless.”

“I suppose you will have to wait until she comes back. Only she can make it go away.”

“Coy!” Niklas cursed. “You mean I’ll be like this all day?”

“Afraid so, dear,” she said. “You’re here, and she’s away. Just be patient.”

This was bad. Stupid on every level. Why should Niklas care so much? It was illogical, but it was real. He paused. “She’s at the manor,” he said to himself.

Lill froze. “I don’t like how you said that, Niklas. What are you planning?”

Niklas shrugged. “I’m just going to pop in and say hi.”

“Not looking like that, you’re not,” Lill said as she looked his clothes up and down. They would kick you out before you got within a mile of the gate.”

Niklas shrugged, “Maybe. There is only one way to find out.”

She shook her head admirably. “Crazy is what you are. Don’t do it. Just wait, dear. You can’t get in.”

“Leave that to me.” Niklas smiled. “How do I get to the manor?”

“You’re serious? You are mad!”

“Are you going to tell me?” Niklas ignored her outburst. “Or do I have to pass by the tea shop and ask Wilbur?”

“Soutfel estate. It’s on the southern outskirts of town. It’s where this town gets its name. You can’t miss it.”

Niklas nodded.

“Don’t get into trouble, please, Niklas.”

“When have I ever gotten into trouble?”

Lill glared at him in response. He turned to go, but Lill pulled him back. “Niklas, if you’re going to go, wait for her on the manor outskirts. They don’t take well to trespassers.”

Niklas nodded.

“And you won’t get anywhere near the outskirts without a bath and clean clothes.”

Begrudgingly, Niklas agreed, and a short while later, was dressed in Ivar’s best clothes. They didn’t fit well, but they would have to do.

“Now, about your hair.”

The hair on the back of Niklas’ neck stood straight. “I know what you’re saying, and the answer is no!” he said a little more aggressively than he intended.

“Niklas, no one respectable has hair that long. And you’ve been shaving. Relrin men like to have shallow beards and stubble.”

Niklas stroked his smooth face. “Not much I can do about that now. Looks like I had better go.”

“Daft,” she chuckled. “Be so careful. Men don’t think very well when trying to impress a girl.”

Niklas grinned back at her. “It’s a matter of health. I need to go so that I can feel better.”

Waving goodbye, Niklas stole away from the compound and headed toward town. Rasmus pleaded to go with him, but Lill dragged him back to the apartment.

He made his way to town uninterrupted. Periodically, men would nod to him or whisper, “Pit boy.” His flicker of fame from the fight pit hadn’t died yet.

Niklas crossed the market and made his way to the southern outskirts of town. He saw the grounds long before he saw the actual estate.

The outer iron gate circled the property for several acres on all sides. It was undoubtedly designed as an empty space to deny intruders any concealment. Past that, the inner gate walled most of the manor from his view.

Climbing a large willow tree, Niklas received a better view of the estate grounds and shade from the sun. Occasional laborers and field servants made their way to the gate. Armed brown uniformed guards checked them before allowing them access.

Niklas searched the servants for Esther but instinctively started to evaluate the security. The guards briefly questioned the servants, and each guard inspected the faces of each servant as they entered. Niklas concluded that they were probably looking for specific people.

Niklas waited a moment in silence. They wouldn’t be looking for him. Maybe he could pop in for a visit.

He thought about what Lill might say, and Robin’s admonition to stay out of trouble rang fresh in his head.

Niklas watched people enter and exit, and he thought about Esther. The security protocols were fair but not extreme. He could probably get in, and he could surprise Esther. He sat, watching the road and the gate, and almost started for the gate six different times before conjuring the boldness to swing out of the tree.

Niklas smiled to himself and started down the road. He felt like Edgar, venturing where he shouldn’t. It sparked a ghost flicker of valor. Niklas had to force his posture to be confident, but he felt himself sweating profusely.

Niklas approached the outer gates and fell in line with a group of servants, trying his best to blend in. His matted dreadlocks, secured by the ring in the back, made him worry that he might stand out. He couldn’t have cut it. He had grown it out for most of his life.

Niklas hadn’t been trained in social infiltration like Edgar, but Edgar had always given him tips that he seldom found a reason to use.

Look confident or look bored. Remember, you’re just a guy trying to do his job.

Niklas let out a forced yawn as he approached a guard.

“Name?” a guard asked Niklas as he stared into his face.

“Edgar Loga.” He used his brother’s name, fully aware he was trespassing.

“Job,” the gatekeeper asked, rubbing a finger on Niklas’ face and examining his finger.

He’s looking for makeup, Niklas realized as he shied away from the uninvited contact.

“Florist,” Niklas said.

He eyed Niklas suspiciously, “Where are your flowers?”

Niklas frowned. “I specialize in exotic design. Do I have to carry flowers to be a consultant on the succulent Colgarian buds or the Shelven roses? Or perhaps what to do with the Tivvian vine bloom?”

It was all made up. Niklas was hoping the Relrin illiteracy also extended to the geography of Momalgar.

“Hmm,” he grunted as he looked at Niklas suspiciously. He was a Sharderin with really long hair. But perhaps it sold his outlandish claims. He did have an accent.

The guard grabbed Niklas by the hair and gave it a firm yank.

“Oi man!” Niklas barked as he batted the man’s arm away. “What are you doing?”

“We are checking for spies,” the guard apologized, as his hunch awkwardly turned out to be false. “Roof Runners are masters of disguise.”

Niklas looked at him, confused.

“Never mind. In with you.”

Niklas breathed a sigh of relief as he passed through the first gate. He had accessed the external lawns, where many gardeners worked on weeding and trimming the grass.

Only a little investigation revealed that Esther was not in the outer yard.

The inner gate's security was much stricter. Everyone going in or out required a written permit for access. Niklas couldn’t blame the system. If he were a commander in fear of attack, he would keep his security tightest closest to home.

Niklas wandered outside, trying to look busy until he found his way in. There was a point on the wall where a short protruding tower seemed unmanned. Niklas looked at it thoughtfully. What was the purpose of a tower without a guard? Style? It didn’t matter. It was his ticket into the inner garden.

Niklas waited for an opportune moment when he was unobserved and then charged the wall. As he jumped, he kicked off the wall and then off the tower, stealing a few extra inches. Niklas caught hold of the lip of the wall with the tips of his fingers. Grunting in exertion, he was about to heft himself up, but voices stopped him.

He heard the speaker growing nearer as two gardeners rounded the corner. Niklas froze and held onto the edge of the wall, his fingers strained by their poor hold.

He held his breath as he waited for them to pass. Miraculously, they didn’t look at the wall. As they moved on, Niklas exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and pulled himself onto the wall.

The inner garden was much more shaded and provided plenty of concealment. Niklas dropped into its dark foliage. He made his way around the outside of the wall.

He marveled at the manor as it drew near. It was indeed built for luxury. It was ornate, esthetically pleasing, and a tactical nightmare.

Being on the inside made the Manor look even more grand. He couldn’t help but marvel at it, momentarily forgetting why he was there.

The large manor had several wings, was at least five stories high, and boasted hundreds of tall windows. Not the best for security.

Breaking his focus from the manner, Niklas scanned the bushes for Esther.

He felt his unrest washed away by excitement as he saw her clipping bushes with thick garden shears. He couldn’t hold back a grin.

He stalked closer, as quietly as he could, until he was on the other side of the bush Esther was trimming.

She continued to clip the bush, unaware of his presence. He was close enough to touch her. A light lock of hair hung in front of her face. Her brow slightly furrowed as she focused on the task at hand.

“Pst,” Niklas hissed.

She looked through the bush in surprise. “Niklas?” she gasped, thoroughly taken aback. “What...how...what are you doing here?”

“When my student misses her class, I have to check in to make sure she’s okay,” Niklas responded.

She shook her head with disapproval, but a wide smile split across her face. “How did you get in here?”

“Over the wall.”

She looked at Niklas, suddenly terrified. “You shouldn’t be here. If they catch you, they can arrest you.”

“That risk was easily worth it,” Niklas said but realized how cocky he sounded as it came out.

“Niklas, you really have to go,” she insisted.

“You left this morning without saying goodbye,” Niklas said. “I...I just wanted to see you.”

“That is...really flattering.” She blushed. “But this is a prime paramount’s home. They are not like the other Relrins you know. They are far more dangerous and unforgiving.”

Niklas felt a heavy presence behind him, and every ounce of smug confidence melted.

“Hey, you,” a rough voice barked. “Who are you?”

Niklas spun to see a guard wearing a uniform different from the brown ones he had seen at the gate. This uniform blended more relrin fashion elements and had ivory and gold accents. This guard was possibly an officer in the garrison. Niklas must have caught the guard’s attention as he poked around the bushes.

“No!” Esther gasped as she looked from Niklas to the guards.

“Easy, this isn’t what it looks like,” Niklas said, but he knew it was probably exactly what it looked like. He had been too distracted to keep a good eye out for the guards. Lill and Esther were both right. Though the trip was fun, it was also foolish.

“Maybe you would care to explain yourself?” the guard demanded as he approached with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Niklas raised his hands, palms open, in a gesture of peace. “I was sent to collect some samples of some sick flowers.”

“I highly doubt that,” the guard growled, “Let’s see your papers?”

“Umm...” Niklas patted his pockets, and his eyes instinctually glanced at the wall he had climbed over.

The guard saw the movement. “Come with me,” he ordered and grabbed Niklas’ arm.

“Hey!” Niklas barked, ripping his arm out of the guard’s grasp. He dropped into a deep stance and hooked the guard's leg without thinking. Niklas got a hand on the guard’s face and shoved him back, sending him reeling into a thorn bush.

“Intruder!” the guard bellowed.

Niklas ran.