I don't understand why we don't just run from this place as fast as possible. You could reach the border in a week or less if you pushed yourself.

"And then what? Set off a bonfire and scream to the heavens, 'Here I am! Come get me!'? I might be fast, but there is no way I can outrun fully trained battlemages determined to capture me. No, running is the worst idea possible."

Then what is your plan?

"Now that is the more important question. I will let you know when I think of one." I responded, folding my arms and closing my eyes as I leaned against the wall of the alleyway.

When it came down to it, the fact was that I was caught off-guard. I knew that my ruse would eventually be discovered, and I doubted the crown would let me slip without a fight, but this was beyond my expectations. A half-dozen battlemages sent to a city a few hundred miles south of Volaris was a considerable investment of manpower, even for a potential Archmagus. And I doubted that was the extent of it.

If I was trying to capture a fugitive, I would place mages in every city and increase security at the borders. Either the trackers would find their prey, or the tightening snare would drive them out of the cities and into the arms of the patrolling groups. In truth, it was a challenging situation to escape, but admitting defeat was not in my nature.

But the question remained the same. What do I do?

Hours passed, and the sun had started to creep towards the horizon as I thought of my next move. Finally, as dusk began to fall, I came to an idea that might work. It was apparent enough that I was almost angry at myself for not thinking of it sooner.

Professor Morell taught me that often the best way to move unseen and evade pursuers was more straightforward than you might expect. Ferris would be looking for a single teenaged mage, traveling alone, and with apparent magical abilities. If I wanted to avoid discovery, the most effective option would be to remove all identifiable traits.

Thanks to my training, I could hide my mana well enough to pass as an ordinary person. My physical appearance was unremarkable even with the improvements from body refining. At best, I was a mildly attractive teenager with the most common hair and eye color among commoners. And as for traveling alone? That was something easily remedied in a city filled with trade caravans.

Moving through the shops, I made several purchases, refilling on traveling rations and water. I still had enough magical rations to last me for a month or two, but my pace would slow if I had companions. Safety and stealth were worth the delay, but I still planned to proceed on my own sooner rather than later.

I also made sure to ask around for which caravans would leave in the morning. One name, an older man name Prin, stuck out. Judging by the shopkeeper's stories, he was a stubborn and prideful but good-natured man. More importantly, he planned to head south towards the Wandering Cities. Apparently, he was one of the traders looking to establish routes with our southern neighbors.

The next morning, I got dressed in full armor, buckling my weapons onto my belt. Smoothing out my hair, which had regrown to around an inch long, I turned from one side to another, satisfied by what I saw. I appeared young and capable but generic enough to blend into a crowd. Exactly as I hoped.

Walkling from the inn, I made my way through the crowd towards the gate. Several dozen caravans stood there, with their leaders calling out orders and checking their cargo. I spotted one man shouting and walking between the carts and diverted my path towards him. Judging by his appearance, that was the man named Prin.

For a few minutes, I stood watching him read through the ledger in his hands, waiting in silence. When it became uncomfortable, I cleared my throat, trying to get his attention.

"What d'ya want, boy?" he said gruffly, not bothering to face me as he tugged at the ropes holding several boxes in place. I glanced at them, wondering for a moment what was inside before looking back to Prin.

"Good morning, sir. My name is Lucas, and I am looking for a passage southward to the Wandering Cities. I hear that your caravan is headed that way, to meet with representatives from the Tinkerers, and I wanted to-"

"No," he replied, again refusing to look at me as he began walking away. I paused for a half-second, caught off-guard by his abrupt rejection, before following after him.

"My lord, please listen to me! I am willing to pay for my place in the cara-" I continued, injecting a bit of desperation into my tone.

"Not a question of gold, boy. What I need are workers, not a spoiled noble brat looking for an adventure. No amount of coin is enough for me to sign up as a babysitter for a child that will start to complain the moment the sun starts beatin' down on your neck." he responded as he walked, stopping by a pile of barrels. There were stamps on the top of each, and he counted them, nodding and writing down something in a ledger.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I paused as if weighing my options before responding, "I am willing to help work if that is the problem."

Sighing, he turned to me, eyebrow raised and arms folded across his broad chest. I tried not to smile as the sudden movement caused his sizable gut to quake like waves on an ocean.

"What exactly can a kid like you offer? Something tells me you haven't worked a day in your life."

I smiled, responding, "I am well-trained with knives, swords, and spears. I can hold my own in a fight and have experience battling magic beasts."

Rubbing his chin, he glanced around at the group around him, as if considering my unspoken proposal. It might be time for a little push, just to tip the scales.

"If you take me on, I am willing to work for a discounted rate. I need experience and connections more than gold, and I believe I would be an excellent addition to your group."

A glint came into his eye, a mixture of curiosity and something I could not place.

"Why're you so eager to leave town? You some sort of criminal? Maybe broke the heart of a noble's daughter? Or their son's?" he commented, raising an eyebrow.

Two out of three is not bad for a blind guess. Though I would suspect your friend Simon is likely distraught about your 'death.'

Ignoring the unhelpful thought sent my way by a particular feline, I decided to try and play on the man's pride. Anyone, from a king all the way down to a beggar, enjoyed flattery, and I had no reason to suspect Prin would be any different.

"I grew up far to the north-east, among plains and forests. It was a safe but boring life, and truthfully I have always wanted more. I heard from some of the shopkeepers in town that you are well-respected and regarded as one of Ferris's best. More than that, you plan to head south, outside of our borders. Exploring far-off sights is appealing, and the chance to see the Wandering Cities in person? Let's just say that is not something I want to pass up."

Staring at me for several minutes, the man finally sighed theatrically before nodding.

"I don't blame you, kid. Alright, you win. I'll take you on as a guard. Tentatively. You make one mistake, or I hear a single complaint from anyone, and you're out. Got it?"

"Yes, sir! Thank you! You will not regret this, I promise." I said, giving him a smile and a low bow.

Straightening, he rubbed the side of his neck, replying, "Yeah yeah. Follow me, and we'll get you set up. I still got things to finish up, and babysitting a kid is not on my list of priorities."

Walking through the group, he approached a man in his thirties who must be a relative standing next to a horse. Their faces and builds looked nearly identical, though the younger man was hard where Prin was soft, and his hair lacked the gray and white of the older trader. He had a sword belted by his side, and I spotted a shield and spear hanging from the saddle. Worn leather armor and a traveling cloak completed the image of a trained, experienced young man.

"Darius! Got a new recruit for you. This here's- damn I did not bother getting your name, did I?" he said, turning to me and rubbing his neck again.

"My name is Lucas. A pleasure to meet you, sir." I held out a hand, suspecting the man would appreciate a handshake more than an overly formal bow.

Bursting into laughter, Darius nodded, holding out one hand and gripping my arm with his fingers, squeezing tight enough to cut off circulation. I responded in kind, using just enough force to match the man's grip.

"Likewise. I am Darius. Disregard my uncle. He tends to get forgetful in his old age." he quipped, glancing at the older man.

Grunting, Prin replied, "You're right. I'm so forgetful I might just forget to pay you for this trip. Damned memory is so foggy these days."

Chuckling under his breath, Prin turned and walked away, leaving the two of us alone. Shaking his head, Darius turned to me, gesturing to follow as he walked through the group of carts.

"Alright, try and remember this. I hate having to repeat myself. Our caravan comprises a few dozen carts, most owned by my uncle or our immediate family. Each one has a single guard riding along, with a handful of additional sentries on horses rotating to watch out for ambushes. I'll be sticking you with my cousin Jacob and his family. They ride right in the middle, so it should be safe. Any questions?"

"Are you expecting trouble from anyone?" I asked, mostly for appearances.

"Not likely, but it's happened before. Bandits can get desperate, and we've had them sneak into our camps at night looking for unguarded supplies. Our bigger concern is the dunes down south. Ferris has taken care of most of the beasties in our lands, but there are rumors of some nasty ones just outside the borders."

"If I might ask, I heard rumors that your uncle is looking to trade with someone from the Wandering Cities. I am surprised they would be willing to meet with anyone from Ferris." I responded, an unspoken question in my words.

Snorting, Darius shrugged, replying, "Our leaders might be interested in waging wars, but there are plenty of people in both countries drawn by the promise of gold. If my uncle becomes the first trader to open up consistent trade with the Tinkerer's, there's no telling the sort of wealth that he could earn."

His words carried some truth, and my mind began to run through the possibilities. What if I could find a way to get in on those trade profits? Maybe establishing a more long-term friendship with these men could prove profitable. I doubted he would possess any sort of long-lasting control over the market, but still. Magic might be the most powerful thing in Ferris, but gold was just under it.

"Oh, and a word of caution. Jacob's daughter has a habit of getting friendly with the guards around here. Usually, it's nothing more than curiosity, but my uncle gets protective of his granddaughter, especially around strangers. Don't do anything stupid." he said, a twinkle in his eyes. I suspected he was joking but decided to play it safe.

Smiling, I shook my head at his warning. " I appreciate it, my lord, but that will not be a problem. I am more than capable of remaining professional."

Chuckling, Darius nodded, responding, "Glad to hear it. If you've nothing else to finish in town, I can take you to meet Jacob now."

Glancing over my shoulder at the milling crowd behind me and the mages lying in wait within, I turned back with a smile.

"No, I think I am more than ready to move on."