Mel met Marcus outside Pedro’s noodle place. It had become their restaurant, a place they shared in between their separate lives. Mel liked Pedro, the quiet atmosphere and the smell of good food.

Marcus held out her chair and waited for Mel to sit. She didn’t complain or argue with him, but she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes often. She didn’t like to be treated like she was special, more important than him. She still didn’t like the way he looked at her, like a possession.

Pedro came out of the kitchen and smiled at them. He didn’t bring a menu this time. He just looked at Marcus with a pen ready in his hand.

“Two noodle soup and two beers,” Marcus said.

Pedro scribbled the order down on a small notepad, even though there were no other customers here except for the man at the bar. He kept speaking to Pedro as if they were good friends. There was never anyone else here, and Mel had to wonder how he kept this business running.

A short while later, Pedro came out with two beers and said the soups would arrive as soon as they were done. Mel took a sip of her beer and gave Marcus a tentative smile.

“How has school been?” Marcus asked.

“Interesting,” Mel said. “I actually wanted to talk to you about some things from school and other topics.”

She took a glance around the room, feeling secretive, before she continued.

“I read this book, a memoir from an old mage smith who died a while ago. He talked about his travels into the wasteland and, at the end of the book, he was teaching students in the dragon forge. He mentioned by name my great grandfather as his best pupil.”

“Okay.”

”But that isn’t the strangest part, like I know he was a mage smith of high rank. My dad told me that much. But the weird thing is that the guy who wrote the book said that my great grandfather wasn’t from Aldrion. I got the sense that he was maybe from the wasteland.”

Marcus took a swig of his beer and placed it down on the table. “That is strange.”

“Yeah, I know,” Mel said. “And then the other day we went to this church, the one everyone seems to go to on Sundays. I was there, and they talked about the church of the sun and how they called the sun the mother. And then I drank from this cup of wine, only I could have sworn it wasn’t wine but blood in the cup, and the mother was in me as me. I don’t know how to explain it, but I got the sense that maybe the dragons aren’t the only gods around.”

At this, Marcus’ brows dipped. “Mel, that’s blasphemy. You know that.”

Mel averted her gaze from Marcus, feeling shame surge from her stomach. But what was she ashamed of? Having felt the mother, just like she had felt the dragons in Windbrook? Or was she ashamed that Marcus called her a traitor to their religion?

She didn’t know.

“Anyway,” Mel said. “The last piece of this puzzle I wanted to talk to you about is the wasteland. I don’t know why, but I think these things are all connected. My dagger, the wastes, the religions. It’s like a gnawing feeling in the back of my mind, like a worm slithering around in there, and it doesn’t want to let me see the whole picture.”

Mel peeled at the paper surrounding the glass bottle, nervous to be speaking about these things with anyone. But knowing she had to talk, otherwise she was going to go crazy.

“It was in class with my professor that the wastes came up. She told us about a belief out there. One that worshiped ore and metal, like they were gods or something. It made me think about the dagger, maybe the people in the wastes know what it is. Maybe they know about double imbues. Maybe the secrets of magic are lost out there beyond the wall.”

Marcus was quiet for a while after this. Pedro came out with their noodle soups, and Marcus slurped at the cloudy water on his spoon. She watched him for a while, before she scooped up noodles for herself.

“I might go into the wastes,” he said after a while. “It’s going to be a few weeks of weapon training first. But if I pass, I will go there. Out to the villages. I might ask them if they know anything or what they believe.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“You would do that?” Mel asked.

Marcus nodded. “Sure, but I don’t know what they will tell me. I would think the people of Aldrion might have already tried that. But I can ask around.”

“How is training going?” Mel asked.

“Good,” Marcus said. “I kind of completed the obstacle course yesterday. Went out and celebrated with Catherine and Leeroy.”

“Really? Congrats.”

“Thanks,” Marcus said. “But I still have a week left of running through the city and climbing that wall. They won’t let me off the hook just because I completed it. But after that, it’s weapons training and I think that might be fun. I’m not sure though.”

Marcus finished his soup and pushed the bowl away from him. He leaned back in his chair and looked at Mel with a strange gleam in his eyes.

“My sergeant told me about an increased threat,” Marcus said. “He said they were glad to have people like me in the army and that the enemy is gathering in numbers. That’s why there haven’t been many attacks lately, none since we came here. Because they’re out there, beyond the wall, mobilizing.”

Mel leaned back, a frown spread across her face and she felt her chest tightening.

“I want you to be careful,” he said. “I want you to be safe, Mel, and I can't protect you when I’m not close by. I wish you would let me find a place for the two of us. I could watch over you every night that way.”

Mel felt a lump in her throat. She swallowed, but it was still there. She cleared her throat as Pedro cleaned off their table and Marcus paid. He had a new coin purse, one he must have bought, and Mel saw his fingers clasping around the few coins he had left. A sting of guilt surged inside her, thinking he was spending it all on her.

They walked outside together and left Pedro’s noodle place with the man sitting at the bar alone. All the while they had been inside, he kept speaking to Pedro in a low voice. He didn’t look at Marcus or Mel, and he didn’t seem to even notice them leaving.

Marcus walked out of the alleyway, and Mel followed. She closed in on him and they walked side by side through the market district with stalls all around them. Merchants were still selling goods, but Mel had only her two silver left and she knew Marcus probably had nothing left after tonight's dinner.

They walked away from town square, up toward Falden, in a slow pace. Like they didn’t care to reach their destination.

“I’ve been thinking about the book and my great grandfather,” Mel said. “I know Austin had read the memoir, too. He mentioned it once when I had the book with me to class. I feel like he knows a lot about history and mage smiths in the past. He might know something about my great grandfather. I wouldn’t even need to tell him about the dagger. I could just ask him about the book and who the pupil was.”

Marcus exhaled sharply and a white mist formed in front of his lips in the cold night air.

“No,” he said. “I told you not to trust him. Please don’t tell him anything about us.”

“But I think it won’t matter if I just ask him about the book. I might not even have to tell him that the pupil is my great grandfather. I can just ask about him.”

Marcus shook his head. “No. I don’t like it. What do you even know about Austin? Do you know where he lives? Where he goes after school? Who he speaks to at night?”

“Yeah, kind of,” Mel said. “He lives in this mansion close to Falden with his father. And they don’t seem to speak much. He's actually quite often sitting in the library in school at night, and I don’t think he has many people to talk to.”

“I saw him, Mel,” Marcus said.

“What?”

“I saw him several times in the morning when I ran. He was walking out of a small house at the edge of town. He must meet with someone there. It’s really not a mansion. Maybe it’s his girlfriend's house or maybe it’s some criminal headquarters. It doesn’t look good. And he definitely hasn't told you about it since you got that shocked look on your face.”

Mel closed her mouth and averted her gaze.

She knew Austin hadn't exactly been honest or told her stuff. He had kept from her how important the Taveck family really was and he seemed to keep some things secret about the girl he was seeing. But maybe his big secret was just that he had a girlfriend who was poor.

Anyway, it really wasn’t any of her business where he went at night or where he slept. But maybe she would try asking him about it before she decided to trust him with certain information.

“Sure,” Mel said. “I won’t tell him for now. I will wait until I know more about him. Okay?”

Marcus gave her a disappointed glare, and Mel smiled.

She grabbed his arm and linked the two of them together. She felt the muscles beneath his navy blue shirt and felt like she didn’t know this body anymore. Mel looked at him with a quizzical look on her face.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Mel said. “You’re just so different. You’re leaner, but stronger and…”

She trailed off, stroking his bicep with her hand, and then their eyes caught. Marcus had a dust of red on his cheeks and a wide grin spread over his lips. Mel swallowed, releasing his arm and feeling a strange thump in her chest.

“You like it?” Marcus asked, his eyebrow raised.

Mel felt her mouth going dry. Did she like that?

“Sure,” she said, not really sure about anything. “You’re getting strong, I guess…”

A bell rang out in the distance, followed by more bells, a frantic sound without any real rhythm. Marcus' eyes lifted to the sky and a worried expression covered his face. The sound took over the entire city and for a moment, only bells could be heard. But then the screams started and Mel felt Marcus grab her hand. He pulled her with him down toward the eastern gate, where those horrid sounds came from.