Holding back my conflicted emotions, teeth gritted, I entered the room of the advisor with the head guard in tow.

"I did as you ordered, Sire," I said with a quick bow, while the sounds of the sniffling girl still resonated within my head.

"Good, both the criminals and the liquor taken care of, I presume?" Sire Barlen Dath aimed the question at the head guard, who confirmed how the events had proceeded.

"...and the woman?"

The guardsman nodded. "Yes, Sire, she is in the hands of Thelik for now."

"Good..." the advisor replied, "...you may return to your duties, captain." His gaze fell on me as he studied me from head to toe. "As for you, young man, I believe your work ahead shall require the appropriate attire. I shall—"

The door slammed open and a boy much my own age barged into the room. Clothes sumptuously luxurious, and face powdered.

"Barno, I can't deal with this anymore!" he blustered. "...I've been confined for weeks, it's boring me to death you hear, to death!"

A flicker of annoyance played on the Sire's face as he answered. "I assure you, young master, that there is good reason—"

"I don't care!" The young one interrupted. "Just give me a handful of guards and let me venture out for a picnic at least!"

It was the first time I had seen the stern advisor flustered, and it wasn't without delight.

"Young master, the Lord has ordered I see to your safety, and I must see that through." He motioned for me to leave.

Clearly this discussion was not for me to partake in, but the dandy boy turned, and his eyes fell on my hair and patched tunic.

"A strand of wheat through black tar, you must be the one they call Firefly?" he cheered. "My maid has told me you keep the kitchen running, with sorcery!"

I glanced at the advisor, unsure how to answer, but without a reaction from the man, I instinctively bowed my head and answered as I thought fit. "Yes, young master, but I'm sure the rumors have been exaggerated. I'm but a kitchen-hand, a servant."

The boy looked disappointed for a moment, then his eyes shone with curiosity once more.

"Nonsense..." he chimed, his earlier irritation forgotten. "...show me. Let me see this magicum of yours."

I again glanced at the Sire, but he simply nodded with a slight look of relief on his face. I bet the distraction is saving him some headache, I thought.

I turned to the noble boy and whispered, and soon three bobbing orbs of glowing flame floated in the air above my head.

The young master clapped his hands in delight and cheered out loud. "Delightful, simply marvelous!"

Spurred on by his enthusiasm, I walked over to a window and pulled the wooden cover open. "May I?" I asked, aiming the question towards the advisor.

He didn't say anything, but rolled his eyes and sighed, waving for me to go on. I opened up a second window for the young master to peer through, down at the houses and temple district below, then positioned myself by the first.

Whispering, I melded the orbs together into a larger sphere that filled the room with radiant heat.

"Get on with it," the Sire ordered, calm yet stern. "...the documents in this room are worth your life many times over. It would be a tragedy if any of them caught ablaze."

I swallowed hard, letting the pulsing globe float through the window, and with a single word, I sent it flying. The young master gazed through the window, up at the fiery ball that soared, brightly glowing, higher and higher. At one point it stopped and seemed to hover next to the sun, high above the keep. Then, with a booming explosion that shook the stone around us, the flames tore across the sky in beautifully fanning patterns.

The young noble stood in silent awe long after the last flickering fire had disappeared. Interrupting the moment, the Sire spoke from behind his desk, voice dry and dripping with sarcasm.

"An astonishing display, Euran. Now that you've planted fear in half of Karham with your little show, what do you plan for the final?"

"Oh, stop it with the boring bureaucracies, Barlen!" The young noble blurted, a wide grin spread across his face. "It was but a court-sorcerer practicing, was it not?"

The stern advisor looked all but amused. "This servant boy is no such thing. He is a mercenary gone criminal, and he follows orders as per agreement with the guild. That is all."

The boy grinned one wider, "For now!" He laughed, "Firefly, you have brightened my day in more ways than one. I shall call for you again."

When I made my way down winding stairs and through the keep's long corridors, my mind wandered back to what had just transpired. He must have been a child of the Lord, I thought, unsure whether catching the boy's eye had been a good idea. What bad can come of it anyway?

I opened the door to the quarters to find the room empty. "Guess the cooks are all still working," I sighed.

Midnight meowed in a comforting response from within my shadow, but not long after there was a knock on the door. A maid greeted me, told me to gather my belongings and then to follow. I realized my short time with Gretha and the cooks was officially over; the Sire had better use of me now.

The room I was presented with, several staircases and corridors later, was small, yet homely. A thick mattress and beddings stuffed with feathers instead of the usual straw. A fireplace, desk, chair, drawer, and a single window. Everything one might need to find comfort in solitary rest. I had never before known such luxury, not in my father's home, not in the guild inn, and most certainly not in the dungeons.

My thoughts wandered once more, locked onto the recent memory of a sniffling child hidden underneath a table, her father dead on the cobblestone outside. There was a heavy lump in my chest as I sat down and dragged my hand across the soft fabrics. Perhaps commodities such as these came with a price steeper than I could stomach.

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Midnight appeared from within my shadow as if she had sensed my gloom, and drew me away from the dark thoughts. She crawled out as if from the floor itself and jumped onto the velvety quilt, trampled a small circle into it, then lay down at its center while purring content.

"If you like it, I guess this is home now," I said to her, while I fed a piece of wood into the fireplace and lay down next to my furred companion. "It's all happening so fast. Farmboy, mercenary, kitchen-hand, servant to the lord? What am I really, Midnight?"

She blinked slowly, then began licking my stretched out hand, all while her purring grew in intensity.

I must have fallen asleep, but a sudden knock pried me from dreams of a crying child forgotten within a smoke-filled house. Disoriented, I looked up at the door, yet the knocks didn't come from there. Instead, they seemed to come from behind me, from the window.

Nervously, I walked over to the shutters and pulled them open, slowly.

"I hope I didn't wake you, pretty boy," a chiming voice greeted me. "You've really risen in favor quickly, haven't you? From the kitchen quarters to the mid floors in ssuch a short time."

Jalany sat, dangling her feet from the window ledge, her smile mischievous and infectious.

"H...how?" I stuttered, but she ignored me, instead she took to ducking and crouching into the room.

"What a cute little one, is she yourss?" She exerted with delight, as she sat down onto the bed. Without a moment of hesitation she took Midnight into her embrace and pressed her against her bosom, and for one blinking moment I was struck by a sting of envy. I quickly pushed it aside.

"How did you get up here?" I asked, still baffled.

"Not how, but why," she corrected with a wink, still mesmerized by my traitorously purring cat. "I sspoke with Ol' Bones. He wouldn't let me in on the details, but both you and I are to take part in whatever scheme he's got cooking."

"Yarelic?" I returned confused, and the hooded woman nodded.

"He's been acting sstrange for some time now, conspiring with the guildmaster ever since they took you. Urax and Harra have been making a ruckus, putting pressure on the scum and information brokers in all corners of Karham. I ssuspect on his requessst."

The flow of her words was as always mesmerizing, and I found myself sitting on the bed by her side, listening with great interest as she spoke. There was a scent about her, something sweet and flowery, something alluring, yet dangerous.

"You're getting awfully close...I ssee your hunger has yet to be...sssatiated." She giggled, and let Midnight down on the sheets, where the black cat stretched and yawned, before curling up in a corner of the bed.

She leaned in towards me, her face only a few thumbs away. I could see her lips, plump and red like ripe cherries, glistening sweet and dangerously smirked. Her voice was a whisper, and her eyes deep and sharp, gazed into mine as she spoke.

"Sstay loyal to the Lord and his caged bird, whatever Yarelic is doing, he is looking for ssomething, and I believe it's to be found within these walls."

I couldn't stop myself from getting closer. I could feel her breath brush softly against my lips with each word she spoke, tickling, welcoming. Then, as I blinked, she was gone. I could hear her laughter from the window beyond which twilight painted the horizon and darkened the roofs below.

Once again she sat on the ledge, giggling and dangling her feet. "Sstay close to the bird," she said with a playful wink, before disappearing out through the opening and into the dark.

Her scent lingered, and for the rest of that night I lay awake thinking about what she had said, trying to make sense of it all. A caged bird…the young master? When I finally found rest in the early hours, my dreams were filled with swaying, taut leather and wild berries bursting with juices. I sunk my teeth into each and every one, filled my stomach to the brim, yet they did nothing to stave away my growling hunger.

I did as advised by Jalany, or were they the words of my teacher? I couldn’t be sure, but for a few weeks I did whatever the Sire ordered. Every time, my life got easier with new clothes, and a maid that cleaned and brought me supper. At the same time, my freedom inside the stony stronghold grew.

Occasionally I crossed paths with the young lord in the corridor, or as I passed the stairs leading up to the noble quarters. He would call out to me as 'Firefly', and would often reminisce about our first encounter and the spectacle I had shown him. I would greet him courteously as required of me, and promised to exhibit to him more of my arts, if requested. As expected, he was delighted. Still his eyes glinted with a desolate sadness.

Less delightful were, however, the chores and orders given to me by the stern advisor. Time and time again, Sire Barlen Dath sent me out with guards to strike down on some petty criminal, some more obviously guilty than others. But one day when I was forced to set a merchant's boat ablaze, while his family watched their livelihoods burn away and sink, all for a forgotten tax—it had reached a point where my values and distaste were challenged and put me on the brink of boiling over. Even so, I clenched my jaw and remained quiet. Bided my time and bowed before giving the Sire a detailed report. Outside I was calm, albeit tense, but inside a dark firestorm had been lit.

Luckily, this morning, colder than most this time of year, bore promises of change. While most of summer had passed during my time locked away in the cellar, the days normally carried with them warm winds. Still, today was exceptionally chilling as I hurried along the corridor. The tapestry in these parts of the keep were exquisite, and I shuddered at the thought of their cost as I watched armored men on horseback carrying colorful banners artfully woven to such lengths that they seemed to flutter within the fabric.

There was a ruckus of loud voices up ahead, sudden screams and shouts of fear. I pulled myself away from my leisurely admiration of the decor and hurried towards the noise, rounding a corner, only to find the young lord pinned to the floor. By his side lay a scholar with a dark shaft sticking out from between his ribs. Yet my focus fell on the man looming above the young noble, just about to strike down with a cruel-looking dagger.

There was no time for hesitation. I didn't whisper as much as shout the words, but luckily it mattered none, as a swirling orb flew and crashed into the stranger's back. He screamed in pain as flames enveloped him, and in desperation he brought down the blade towards his target, but the moment had been enough for the young lord to wriggle loose, and he kicked and flailed to get away. The dagger landed hard and carved into the wooden floor. I launched myself forward and struck my shacksa onto the man's neck with all my strength, and even though the leather sheath was still attached, the impact brought with it a sound of cracking bone. Tunic still engulfed with licks of flame, the man fell onto the floor into an unmoving heap, as the corridor filled with the stench of charred skin and grease. I whispered and called for the flames to disperse, and so they did, yet the stench lingered.

"Barnabas!" the young lord cried, "...Barnabas, stay with me!" He shook the fallen scholar to no effect. With desperation in his eyes he looked up towards me, voice shaking, "I...I think he's d...dead," he stuttered. Tears streamed down the young face, making trails in the pale powder. "Please accompany me to m...my room, Firefly," he said, while forcing himself to stand on shaking legs. I took hold of his arm and helped him steady, and following his instructions we went up the stairs, leaving both Barnabas and the culprit behind.

If the corridors and banquet halls could be considered lavish, the noble quarters were so to an excessive extent. Everything seemed plated with gold or silver, yet I had little time to gawk at the interior. The young lord hurriedly led me towards a polished door of red cherry, sending scared maids away as they worriedly approached.

"Send word to my father, I have been attacked!" He cried, "...hurry!"

I opened the door, yet instead of entering he still clung to my arm. "I shouldn't be here," I uttered, but the boy looked at me with teary eyes, as if begging me not to leave him.

"...I'll come with," I resigned, leading the still shaken noble into his room, hoping it would not later bring repercussions.

"Lock it!" he ordered, "Lock the door!"

I did as told, closing the door shut and turning the key resting in its hole. Only then did the young master fall onto his bed, crying and laughing all at once.

"I'm alive, Firefly! Thank Aloor...and you, my saviour, who he sent!"

I was proud and happy to have thwarted the attempt on the boy's life, yet at his words, though I assume it was nothing but my imagination, I could have sworn that for one brief moment, the universe itself hiccuped.

"What is your true name, Firefly?" he asked, and I answered, "Euran."

Breathing heavily the young lord stared up at the roof, smiling, while tears still wet the sides of his face.

"My name is Ferrelis Augmindar Arbant," he said as he sat up, nose red, but still smiling, "..But you Euran, may call me Ferrel."