The stranger stood before us. Though he was no taller than most laborers around, he had an imposing presence and a subdued air of confidence, like he could handle himself in any fight. But contrasting his confidence was his grim expression he wore perfectly, yet in his eyes was a vicious purpose alight that was almost palatable. This man was strong and no mere blunt.

“What’s your name, stranger?” Florencia asked. “It would be awkward to join your table without knowing your name first.”

“Sorry,” the man spoke. His accent was thick, elongating every letter longer than necessary, and pronouncing the words in a more crude manner than we did. “My name’s Iskander. I’m traveling with Jaxine. She is sitting over there.” He pointed at his table in the far corner.

Jace looked at Florencia with a questioning expression; she shrugged, then nodded and stood up.

“Very well,” Florencia said. “I suppose we might join.”

“There are no coincidences. I feel they’re the ones I sensed,” Florencia said to me telepathically. But it was so faint and drowned in the surrounding noise that I almost mistook it for my own thoughts. I sensed that she needed me to stay vigilant.

Iskander led us to a small, isolated table in the far corner of the tavern. The entire area was engulfed in shadow, with the exception of a single flickering lantern that cast a soft, orange glow around it, and illuminated a few empty dark-green bottles that were beside it.

There sat a young woman with fiery red hair. She stared at us with an unreadable expression, a mask of stone-cold indifference. She was small and wiry, almost mouse-like in outward appearance, but she had piercing light-grey eyes that almost seemed to glow with an inner fire. As I got closer, I felt the unmistakable sharpness of her mind radiate.

She had her grey overcoat hanging over the backrest of the chair as if she had just shrugged it off and left it there without a second thought. The knitted black sweater she wore had a thick and high collar reaching up to her ears, and the sleeves, frayed and entirely too big for her slender arms, hung loose like drapes.

Iskander took an extra chair from an unoccupied table close by and sat down with a heavy sigh. Jaxine looked up at him with warmth, and then scooted her seat closer and leaned into him.

“She’s unschooled in magic,” Florencia said, again telepathically, as she sat down beside me. “She doesn’t know how to keep her gift hidden.”

“Or she doesn’t care to,” I replied and hoped it was subtle enough to not be caught. Jaxine’s eyes immediately darted between me and Florencia, but she said nothing, and I hoped she had not overheard.

We settled into our seats, with Jace opting for the chair against the wall, Florencia sitting in the middle, and I pushed my chair back from the table to give my stiff legs some much-needed space. In the sudden silence, I heard the lantern fizzle and flicker as the ever-burning cord absorbed more oil from the tank. The light cast sharp shadows on our faces, and the faint smell of alcohol and smoke from the fireplace behind the bar counter.

Without asking, Iskander filled five glasses with a rich, deep red wine.

It was unmistakable that all five of us were gifted in magic. I could sense it. The very air around us was almost buzzing with soft energy like it was under pressure, and I saw every now and again tiny light-blue sparks that burst into existence before quickly fading away. Florencia and Jace seemed entirely unaware of them, but I said nothing. I just found it peculiar.

As Iskander filled the glasses, I noticed he had on his little finger something curious. It was a little reddish ring that was almost wire-thin and had a worn and faded look to it. It was too small for his thick fingers, and Iskander wore it on the middle joint. Even there, it seemed too tight.

“This is Jaxine,” Iskander said and waited for her to speak up. The young woman merely stared at Florencia for a while, and then dismissively shot a glance at Jace and me before politely nodding.

“Not much of a talker?” Florencia asked with a weighed politeness, seemingly not bothered at all.

“Not really,” Jaxine said curtly. “Iskander talks enough for the two of us.”

Jace and I introduced ourselves as well, but Iskander’s attention was spent before I could finish, already looking at Florencia and Jace with curiosity.

None of us tried the wine yet, but its smell was inviting, though heavy.

It was Florencia that started with a quiet but commanding voice: “Now that’s out of the way, Iskander, why did you invite us to your table?”

“We sensed your arrival here. I thought you were probably going to notice us as well, sooner or later, anyway. So I thought it would be better to introduce ourselves before you suspect us of something.” Iskander spoke with a deep and gravelly voice, almost like he was holding back a rage at all times.

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“Why would I suspect you of anything?” Florencia asked, revealing nothing in her tone.

“Because we come from Szell—” Iskander said, but then stopped.

“See?” Jaxine whispered. “I told you they weren’t looking for us. You should’ve stayed here!”

“She already sensed our presence and was searching for us,” Iskander said with the faintest of smiles, and Florencia nodded. She shot Jace a meaningful look, and I sensed a quick exchange of telepathic meaning, but I failed to catch it.

“You said Szell,” Jace said. “Is this where you come from? Your names are not from Lienor, and your accents are those from that region as well.”

“Yes, we come from Szell,” Iskander said.

“So, what brings two gifted individuals from the Szell Counties all this way to the town of Scorro?” Florencia asked. “Are you here merely traveling around? Enjoying the autumn weather? It’s definitely warmer here than up north.”

“No. Not traveling,” Iskander smirked and downed his wine without really enjoying it. “Why I should tell you of our business? You are not with the city guard or any of the… king’s agents?”

“No, we are not the king’s agents,” Florencia said bluntly. “Jace and I work for the Yasman Lodge of the Cappesand Academy. Have you heard of it? Since you two are gifted, so you must have.”

“Yasman?” Iskander’s eyes livened and his posture relaxed. “I know of them. You hunt monsters.”

Florencia smiled, but this time it was not merely out of politeness. Instead, I felt her disposition warm at the two strangers sitting across from us. “Not quite,” she said.

“But close enough,” Iskander said.

“Close. And what do you do?”

“We hunt monsters as well,” Iskander said with a zeal that I felt radiate off of him. “Though not to the extent of the Yasman Lodge.”

Florencia’s attention was piqued, and Jace held casual eye contact with the strange man and aloof girl.

I hesitated for a moment, but then reached for the glass of wine he had poured and took a sip. The taste was earthy and light, with subtle notes of sugar and a hint of sour berries. Although it was a very unfamiliar mix of tastes, it was definitely not as horrid as the Scorro local.

“This is a wine from Raundiesnoord county,” Iskander said, fixing his dark and piercing gaze on me, face lit orange from the lantern. “I can’t trust you southern folk to get it right. What you have here tastes like piss.”

“I don’t think the barkeep would appreciate you talking about his wine like this,” Jace said. “You’re lucky we’re out of his hearing.”

“He wouldn’t care,” Jaxine inserted and kept staring at us with a palpable amount of suspicion. She hid her hands in the sleeves of her sweater and under the table, which made me uneasy and I traced the handle of Rors’ knife I had in my pocket. That was my only weapon, and it only felt fitting to take it for myself.

And even though I was anxious, I did not sense any danger coming from them. It was more that they were suspicious of us.

“You said you hunt monsters,” Florencia said. “Would you mind explaining more? I’m intrigued. We might have more in common than I first thought.”

“We—” Iskander started, but Jaxine gently punched his side with her elbow, but he continued. “We’re free agents, of sorts. Travel from town to town and… help the locals with the problems the city guard won’t bother.”

“Does that involve hunting monsters?” Florencia asked.

Iskander then grabbed the collar of his vest and shirt and pulled it down to reveal a pink scar he had on his neck that ran down onto his chest and shoulder. Its jagged edges were rough and poorly healed in some places.

“Sometimes we do,” he said. “And sometimes they leave parting gifts. But usually, the monster is very human. They’re easier to manage, though not always.”

Florencia smirked again at the hint and said: “Jace and I have worked in Szell many times. Less than a month ago, we were in Rasker Keep, dealing with a very human monster problem. Do you ever work with the Acrisius Order? You must have heard of them.”

“Of course,” Iskander said. “My good friend, Derakleon Achaities, works there. We went to school together, many years ago… But the Acrisius Order and us, we help each other out quite often.”

Florencia and Jace went silent for a moment, and I heard echoes of whispers in my head, but I missed the words again and felt frustrated. Florencia did tell me to hold back my powers, so I did.

“Mr. Achaities is your friend?” Florencia asked.

“Ah,” Iskander said. He caught on quickly. “So you know of him.”

“We’ve never worked together directly,” Florencia continued. “But we have met. Very pleasant, always smiling.”

“Yes, always smiling…” Iskander repeated. “The only member of the Yasman Lodge I heard Derakleon mention was High Warden Regalla—”

Suddenly Iskander’s eyes went bright as an understanding dawned on him. “You’re Warden Florencia Regalla!”

“A pleasure,” she said with a smile, and Jace mirrored her expression. He had already sensed where the conversation was headed, but held back and merely let the scene play out. I turned my eyes to Jaxine, whose small and slender frame was almost swallowed up by the large knitted sweater. And while her eyes still betrayed a heavy hint of suspicion, she was beginning to warm up to us as well. Well, at least to Florencia or Jace.

“I’ve heard of your work,” Iskander said. “What you did in Maarden was masterful.”

“That was years ago, and I had much help from Rian and Ferchell,” Florencia said and suppressed the hint of pride over the kind words of a man she never met before. “But I’m afraid I’ve never heard Mr. Achaities mention anything about you.”

“He keeps me and Jaxine out of the order’s business,” Iskander said, his mood improving, and for the first time, his face did not look like he had just come from a funeral. With ease, he picked up both his glass and Jace’s and filled them with the robust Szell liquor. His movements were heavy yet frighteningly swift and measured. I saw no clumsiness there.

“Iskander,” Florencia began. “In my years of doing the Lodge’s work and seeing the terrible thing people can do to other people, I’ve learned to never ignore coincidences.”

“That’s smart…” he said.

“We are looking for someone,” she prodded, and it got the reaction she had hoped—Iskander’s eyes betrayed a recognition, and Florencia pressed on. “Someone who came from the Szell Counties. And the most interesting fact is that we got the hint from your friend, Mr. Achaities!”

“How strange,” Iskander said. “We are also here because we are looking for someone who escaped my country into Lienor. What’s his name?”

“His?” Florencia asked.

She never mentioned Vranik was a man.