After leaving Marsil alone, Elenora went to the Blackbeard Inn.

Elenora Pov

I nodded to the innkeeper, who gave me a knowing glance before gesturing toward the hidden staircase at the far corner of the room.

Without a word, I made my way down.

At the bottom of the stairs, the door was already slightly open.

I took a steadying breath and pushed the door open.

The room was modest but comfortably furnished.

A square table dominated the space, laden with a platter of cheese, bread, and a pitcher of beer.

Four people sat around it, their laughter subsiding as they noticed my presence.

Their eyes turned to me, expectant.

"Ah, Elenora," said the blonde man, his sharp eyes fixed on me as he leaned back in his chair.

His voice carried confidence. I just met him and don'tt know much about him; the the only thing I knew about him was was that name is Eduardo Revil and he was a mage of some sort.

"You’re back. I take it you met the man Eval wanted?"

I nodded and stepped inside, closing the door behind me.

My boots clicked softly against the stone floor as I moved toward an empty chair.

"He’s… interesting."

The woman at the table, dark-haired and younger than the others, arched a curious brow.

"Interesting how?"

I poured myself a small glass of beer from the pitcher, using the moment to gather my thoughts. How much should I reveal? How much did they need to know right now?

“Lind El-Fia, a young woman again advised by Eval...”

“I knew that she is really good at healing spells and some other type of spells.”

“Half-angel and half-death bringer...” I thought.

Eduardowasn’t one to wait.

He straightened in his seat, his gaze narrowing.

"Well? Is he the mage Eval said he would be?"

I sipped my beer, letting the warmth of the drink steady me.

"It’s early to say," I admitted, placing the glass back on the table.

"But it’s clear that he is a mage. His aura isn’t something you can miss once you’re close enough. That kind of energy doesn’t lie."

The group exchanged glances, their interest clearly piqued.

I could tell they were hoping for a more concrete answer, but the truth was, I didn’t have one—not yet.

"Buthe doesn’t give the impression of someone reckless or overly proud. If anything, he’s cautious. Smart, maybe. He’s not a fool, and that alone makes him worth keeping an eye on."

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Everett leaned his elbows on the table, fingers steepled.

"You think he’s the kind Eval can use?"

"That depends on what Eval plans to use him for. He has potential, certainly, but whether or not he aligns with our cause... that I am not sure of.”

Lind tapped a finger against her glass,

"Do you think he’ll show up for the meeting?"

I considered the question, my mind flicking back to my conversation with Marsil.

He had been guarded, but I had seen the spark of curiosity in his eyes when Eval’s name was mentioned.

"He’ll come.”

"He’s intrigued. Whether he stays after the meeting is another matter entirely."

The group nodded in unison, seemingly satisfied for now. Eduardo, however, lingered on me with his piercing gaze.

"Keep an eye on him, Elenora; Eval doesn’t choose people lightly, and if he wants him involved, there’s a reason. Make sure he doesn’t slip through our fingers."

I inclined my head, finishing the last sip of my beer.

"Of course," I replied.

As the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, I allowed myself a moment of quiet.

My mind, however, was anything but still.

Whatever Eval had in mind,m not sure,, but I know it was bound to be significant. And I couldn’t afford to fail him—not now, not ever.

-

Marsil Pov

I leaned back on the simple wooden chair in my room,

The meeting date was set—three days from now.

Plenty of time, I thought, to sharpen my skills and refine my magic.

If Eval or anyone else in that group had expectations for me,

I wasn’t going to meet them unprepared.

The truth was, despite the strides I’d made recently,

I could feel the gaps in my abilities.

My control over magic wasn’t as solid as I wanted it to be, and my casting, while effective, still lacked the precision of a seasoned mage.

I needed to improve, to tighten every loose thread in my mastery of the arcane.

With that resolve in mind, I ordered a simple meal from the innkeeper—a plate of roasted meat and vegetables with fresh bread—and then settled into my training.

The glow of my magical energy began to fill the room as I focused on solidifying my control.

I practiced weaving small energy constructs, forcing them to hold their shape under pressure.

It was tedious work, but I could feel the improvement in my control with each repetition.

Time passed quickly, and before I knew it, my food had arrived.

The warm scent of roasted meat filled the room, mixing with the faint tang of burning magic from my earlier exercises.

As I reached for the plate, Sacril suddenly hopped onto the table, his large eyes fixed on the food. His body language was tense, and he let out a low, warning growl.

“What’s wrong, Sacril?”

He nudged the plate with his nose, then looked up at me, his ears flattening in an almost human-like expression of concern.

“What are you trying to tell me?”

Sacril growled again, more insistently this time. His behavior was unusual—he rarely acted like this unless there was danger.

I stared at the food for a long moment, my mind racing.

The meat looked fine, perfectly cooked and seasoned.

The bread was fresh, the vegetables glistening with butter. But something felt off now that Sacril was reacting this way.

A cold thought crept into my mind.

“Could it be poisoned?”

I picked up a small piece of meat and held it close, examining it carefully.

There was nothing visibly wrong with it, no strange smell or texture.

But Sacril’s reaction wasn’t something I could ignore.

Placing the food back on the table, I muttered under my breath,

“Better safe than sorry.”

I cast a simple detection spell over the plate, focusing on identifying any foreign substances. To my shock, faint traces of magical interference lit up in the meat.

“Damn it,”

Someone had tampered with my food.

The realization sent a chill down my spine.

I glanced at Sacril, who sat beside the table, watching me intently.

“Good catch, buddy.”

Pushing the plate aside, I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling.

“Looks like I’ll need to be more careful,” I muttered.

Sacril let out a soft chirp, almost as if he agreed.

My appetite was gone.

If someone thought they could scare me or slow me down, they were sorely mistaken.

I wouldn’t let a petty attack like this derail my plans.

“We’ll train harder. We’ll get stronger.”