Ethan slips into a shadowed alley, checking the position of the sun to guess the time; it is seven o'clock sharp. 'Hide,' he orders Russ as he conceals his face under a hooded clock and his wooden mask. He searches for unwanted individuals through predator's sight but finds none.

Two figures wait at the end of an alley, hidden in the long shadows projected by the dimming sunlight. Ethan's lips curl into a hidden smile as he approaches them.

"Evening," Ethan greets, his voice low. "What news do you have for me?"

Marcus, an imposing man concealing his guard captain's armor under a cloak, glances around before speaking. "Cole is adapting to his new station. He gave the guard all the necessary information for us to destroy Tobias Polsted."

"But the man was nowhere to be found; we guessed he had been disposed of," the woman standing next to him continues. She's another captain, one who works in a different part of the city.

Ethan nods. "And Viktor Blackwood?"

Cassandra, the woman of the duo, answers, "He's being held and questioned in the palace, but hasn't said anything yet. It is likely that he will escape a death sentence based on his status alone. He must think he could resume his connections once out."

"But I've heard rumors that the regent is planning on transferring him to Stormshackle, a prison located on an island," Marcus continues. "He appeared as a generous man to the population; publicly executing him would have unwanted side effects. And he cannot be secretly executed, as it would tarnish the regent's image."

"Keep an eye on his situation. I will have to deal with him the day his sentence ends, or he will become a problem," Ethan says.

"Of course, sir," Cassandra says as if answering to a superior. "This is all we have for you today."

"Very well," Ethan says. He pulls out two pouches, each holding twenty golds, and hands them to the captains. "And remember, your cooperation keeps you out of trouble. I doubt you have the renown to escape a death sentence."

Both captains stiffen, their expressions a mix of fear and resentment. With a final nod, Ethan turns on his heel, leaving the alley as silently as he entered. He takes his time to go back to Russ, surveying the surroundings with predator's sight.

Passing along the terrace of a restaurant, Ethan spots Sylas sitting alone at one of its tables. He hasn't been served anything yet, not even a drink. 'Is he waiting on a date?' Ethan ponders.

Russ lets out a small, sharp bark as he sees Sylas. 'Shush,' Ethan orders before turning his gaze to Sylas. He waves at Ethan, a faint smile on his face. He motions to join him, pushing the opposite chair with his foot.

Ethan sits at Sylas's table, waving at a waiter to signal their presence. Russ lies down under Ethan's chair, silently scanning the various patrons. Contrary to their table, everyone here wears expensive clothes and jewelry. Some stare them down with a look of indignation.

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The terrace gives them a view of the ocean, its waves emitting calming sounds in this peaceful evening. The restaurant also has an interior room and an open kitchen. Its team works tirelessly in coordinated chaos.

Ethan glances at Sylas's hip, from which hangs a long sword and its scabbard. "I see you've got yourself a weapon," he notes.

"I'm planning to forge one for myself," Sylas says. "But in the meantime, I borrowed this one to train at the upper city's garrison. They agreed for me to join their practice in exchange for a donation."

"That's a good thing," Ethan says. "With your talent, you'll soon be a great warrior. Perhaps you'll make a good sparring partner next time we meet."

They wait for long minutes, during which the waiters avoid them. "I guess we aren't welcome to eat here," Sylas says. "We should leave and find a place that will serve us. I'll come eat here another day, when I look richer."

"Did you specifically want to dine here?" Ethan asks.

"Edgar told me I should," Sylas answers. "According to him, it’s the best restaurant in Opal, home to the best chefs beside the regent's personal team."

Ethan removes his ring of aura manipulation. It releases unseen waves that undulate the surrounding threads of Ether. The entire restaurant turns to him, visibly sickened by the disturbance.

"What is happening?" Sylas asks. "It's as if we were back in the mountains; I can feel the treads clashing against my skin."

"When you condense enough Ether in your heart, it starts affecting the surrounding threads," Ethan explains. "I've yet to learn how to avoid that side effect without using this ring. There are several people in this city who do, but you can still feel their presence if you're close enough."

"Who?" Sylas asks.

"The noble girl who was in your shop when I came for the quest does it," Ethan answers. 'It's orders of magnitude more evident when she's fighting,' he mentally adds.

Sylas puffs. "You shouldn't refer to the regent's daughter as a girl," he says.

A man wearing a stained white apron approaches their table. "I apologize for the rudeness of our staff," he begins. "Would you be inclined to restrain your aura?"

Without a word, Ethan re-equips the ring, silencing his aura. The man motions for a waiter, ordering him to service their table as he returns to the kitchen.

The waiter hands them a one-page menu filled with hand-copied options for three-course meals. He fakes an inexpressive face, but Ethan can't help but notice that he's annoyed with their presence.

None of the names correspond to any dishes he knows, but their descriptions are more evocative. "I would like the lamb and a bottle of red wine, one with hints of cedar and spice," Ethan says.

The waiter's expression shifts to a welcoming smile as he hears Ethan's priestly elocution. "Would you fancy an appetizer? Or something for your furry companion?" he asks, suddenly more accommodating.

"A venison pâté for me, and he would love it if you had meat peels or offal," Ethan answers, handing him back the menu.

"A cheese board and the lobster," Sylas orders, holding his menu in front of the waiter.

The waiter nods and enters the building. Ethan uses predator's sight to scan the surroundings, ensuring that no one is actively listening to them.

"I thought your red eyes were to see in the dark. Why are you using them now?" Sylas whispers.

"They help me in that regard, but this isn't their main purpose," Ethan says. "They let me see and hear from very far away; it's useful to spot hidden creatures."

"That's how you knew that the skullgors were waiting for us," Sylas realizes. "Is someone following you?"

"I don't think so," Ethan answers. "How are your wounds?"

"A priest healed them; I'm just feeling a bit rusted in my shoulder," Sylas answers. "If you want to change subjects, let's talk about a weapon that would be good enough for you."

"There will be time for that later," Ethan dismisses.

The waiter comes back, delivering their appetizers, glasses, and wine to the table. He places a plate filled with discarded chunks of meat, bits of liver, and kidneys before Russ.

As the waiter leaves, Ethan pours himself a glass. 'He didn't even let me taste it,' he mockingly thinks. He spins the red beverage with his wrist, apprehending his next words. 'If only I could teach him everything Earth learned about blacksmithing, he would be an invaluable asset. But I cannot wait until our next meeting, or he could disappear, as he has no reason to do as I made him promise.'