The first rays of dawn crept through the shuttered window, painting hazy lines across the cramped room. Kiel stirred on the worn couch, his lean frame curled awkwardly to fit on the too-short cushions. He blinked the grit of sleep from his eyes and sat up with a groan, rolling the kinks from his shoulders.

Across the room, Dot lay sprawled on the narrow bed, his breath whistling gently through parted lips. The thirteen-year-old looked even younger in sleep, his face relaxed and unguarded.

With a sigh, Kiel levered himself to his feet and began his morning ablutions. A splash of water from the basin, a quick comb of his fingers through his hair. He shrugged into his apprentice robe, the drab fabric hanging loosely on his spare frame.

As he padded to the tiny brazier to start the kettle, Dot began to stir. The boy mumbled something unintelligible and flopped over, burying his face in the thin pillow. Kiel couldn't help a small smile. Dot had never been a morning person.

"Up and at 'em, lazybones," he called, pitching his voice to carry. "Plenty of work to do today."

Dot groaned theatrically and pried one eye open to squint at Kiel. "Five more minutes," he wheedled, his voice thick with sleep. "The shop won't burn down without me."

Kiel snorted. "With your luck? I'm not taking any chances." He softened his words with a grin, taking the sting from the jibe. "C'mon, I'll make your favorite spice bread if you get up now."

That got Dot's attention. He sat up, covers falling away as he scooted to the edge of the bed. "With the candied ginger?" he asked hopefully, his eyes sparkling.

"Well, since you asked so nicely..." Kiel made a show of considering, then shrugged. "Why not. We could use a treat."

Light knows there's little enough to celebrate these days.

He busied himself with the familiar motions of breakfast - stoking the brazier, setting the kettle to boil, kneading the dough for the promised spice bread. All the while, his thoughts churned like storm clouds.

How much do I tell him? He deserves to know the danger, but I don't want to frighten him...

As if sensing his darkening mood, Dot piped up from across the room. "What's eating you, Kiel? You look like you swallowed a toad."

Kiel startled, nearly upending the kettle. He forced a smile, but it felt strained even to him. "Ah, it's nothing. Just thinking about the day ahead."

Dot cocked his head, a knowing look on his earnest face. "Uh-huh. And I'm the High Priest of Arcania." He crossed his arms, fixing Kiel with a stern glare that looked out of place on his youthful features. "C'mon, out with it. What's really bothering you?"

Kiel sighed. He should have known better than to try to fool Dot. The boy was far too perceptive for his own good.

"Alright, alright. You got me." He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "There's...there's something I need to tell you. Something serious."

Dot's eyes widened, but he said nothing, waiting for Kiel to continue. Kiel fiddled with the hem of his robe, suddenly uncertain.

"The Inquisitors are in town," he said at last, the words feeling leaden on his tongue. "They're looking for a heretic, someone who's been kidnapping people. Skilled folks, minor nobles. Making them disappear without a trace."

Dot's brow furrowed. "Inquisitors? Here?" He shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the very idea. "But why? We haven't done anything wrong!"

His voice started to rise with a note of panic. Kiel hurried to reassure him.

"No, no, it's not about us. Not directly, anyway." He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily. "But with them sniffing around... We need to be extra careful. Keep our heads down, stick to our story."

And pray to the Light they don't look too closely at a simple pharmacist's apprentice.

Dot chewed his lip, his eyes distant. Kiel could practically see the gears turning behind them.

"These disappearances," the boy said slowly. "You think...you think they might come after you?"

Clever lad. Too clever by half.

"It's possible," Kiel admitted. The words tasted like ash in his mouth. "I'm not exactly a 'skilled citizen', but my [Pharmacist] skills...they might make me a target."

Among other things. Oh, if he only knew...

He shook off the thought. No good dwelling on might-have-beens.

"Which is why," he continued, holding Dot's gaze, "I need you to be extra careful too. No more staying out late, no more running around Market Square. I want you where I can keep an eye on you, at least until this blows over."

Dot's face clouded, a mulish set to his jaw. "But Kiel, I can take care of myself! I'm not a baby anymore!"

Kiel bit back a surge of frustration. The boy's stubbornness would be the death of him. Of both of them, perhaps.

An insidious thought slithered through his mind. He could make Dot obey. A simple [Command], and the boy would fall in line like a puppet on strings.

He recoiled from the notion, disgusted with himself. Using his Skills on Dot, on the closest thing he had to family? He truly was a monster.

"I know you're not," Kiel said, fighting to keep his voice level. "But this is serious, Dot. These aren't just street thugs or drunken bravos. We're talking about a high-level [Heretic], someone who can snatch people from their beds without leaving a trace."

Something in his tone must have gotten through. Dot's defiance crumbled, his narrow shoulders sagging. "'Kay, fine," he muttered, scuffing a bare foot against the floorboards. "I'll stay here. But just for a few days, 'til this all blows over!"

Relief bloomed in Kiel's chest. "Thank you," he said softly. "I promise, it won't be for long."

It was a promise he didn’t quite believe himself, all he could do was hope.

They finished their preparations in silence, the only sounds the crackle of the brazier and the clink of clay mugs. The promised spice bread filled the room with its heady aroma, but Kiel barely tasted it.

Stolen novel; please report.

His mind was burdened with dark possibilities, each more dire than the last. A [Heretic] in Arkrest, bold enough to snatch citizens from their very homes. The Inquisitors out in force, turning over every rock and rathole in search of their quarry.

And at the center of it all, him. A [Skill Trainer], the forbidden Class that could get him burned at the stake if discovered.

Dot's right. We haven't done anything wrong. My skills...they're no more evil than a [Mage]'s spells or a [Warrior]'s blade. It's how you use them that matters.

But he knew the Inquisition wouldn't see it that way. To them, any unsanctioned use of Skills was heresy, plain and simple. It didn't matter if he used his abilities to put food on the table or to line his own pockets. In their eyes, he was no better than the kidnapper they sought.

And if they find me, it won't just be me who suffers. Dot will be tainted by association. They might even think he was my accomplice.

The thought made him nauseous. He swallowed hard, pushing the nausea down. No, he couldn't let that happen. Whatever it took, he had to keep Dot safe. Keep him clear of the muck Kiel had mired himself in.

The boy in question was currently hunched over his share of the bread, tearing off big chunks and stuffing them into his mouth. At least his appetite wasn't affected by the grim news. Kiel envied him that resilience.

As if sensing his regard, Dot glanced up, his cheeks bulging comically. He swallowed with an effort and grinned. "Don't worry so much, Kiel! We'll get through this, you'll see."

He reached out to pat Kiel's arm, leaving sticky fingerprints on the fabric. "And when my Class comes in, I'll be able to help out more! I just know it's gonna be something amazing. Then you won't have to work so hard all the time."

Kiel summoned a smile from somewhere. "I'm sure it will be, Dot. Something incredible, just like you."

He still believes. Still has hope for the future, despite everything. I have to protect that innocence. Have to shield him from the worst of this rotted world.

Even if it meant shielding him from the truth about Kiel himself.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of routine. Sweeping the shop floor, laying out the day's wares, checking inventory in the cramped storeroom. Kiel performed the tasks with half his mind, the rest occupied with contingencies and worst-case scenarios.

If the Inquisitors come knocking, what do I do? Continue playing dumb, the stuttering apprentice? Or run, take Dot and flee the city? We could head south, maybe even leave the State of Meioria entirely.

But even as he thought it, he knew it was a fool's hope. He couldn't abandon his network, the web of contacts and clients he'd so painstakingly built.

No, he had to stay the course. Keep his head down, his ears open. And above all, keep Dot out of it.

The boy in question was currently perched on a stool behind the counter, his nose buried in a tattered chapbook. Some lurid adventure tale, from the look of the garish cover. Kiel felt a fond smile tug at his lips. The boy could barely read but would always put in the effort.

At least one of us can escape for a little while.

Kiel left him to it, slipping into the back room on the pretext of checking stock. In truth, he needed a moment to himself, to quiet the fears in his head.

He slumped against the shelves, ignoring the jars and vials digging into his back. His hand crept unconsciously to his breast, to the hidden pocket sewn into the lining of his robe. The one that held his bone-white mask, the symbol of his secret Class.

[Skill Trainer]. It might as well be a death sentence, if the Inquisition finds out. But what choice do I have?

It was the only way he knew to get ahead, to claw his way out of the gutter his family had tossed him into. The only way to give Dot a better life than scrounging and scrabbling on the streets.

But now, with the Inquisitors in town, his very livelihood was a threat. He couldn't risk visiting his secret workshop, not with holy warriors sniffing around every corner. If they got wind of his heretical activities...

They'd make an example of me. A public spectacle, to show the masses what happens to those who defy the Light's will.

And Dot... Bright, innocent Dot, who looked at him with such faith, such trust...

He can never know. It would break him, shatter that beautiful naivete. I won't let that happen, even if I have to lie to his face every day for the rest of my life.

Kiel took a shuddering breath, straightening his spine. He couldn't afford to wallow in self-pity. Not now, not with so much at stake.

He had to be strong, for Dot's sake if not his own. Had to keep up the facade of the humble apprentice, the loyal citizen. Let the Inquisitors chase their tails searching for their heretic. As long as they didn't look too closely at him, he could weather this storm.

I'll have to reach out to my contacts, see if they've heard anything about these disappearances. The more I know, the better I can protect us.

But even as he thought it, a cold finger of doubt traced his spine. What if, in seeking answers, he only drew attention to himself? What if his digging aroused the Inquisition's suspicions?

Damned if I do, damned if I don't. But I can't just sit on my hands and wait for the hammer to fall. I have to know what I'm up against.

He straightened his robes, squaring his shoulders as if donning armor. He couldn't afford to show weakness, not even to himself. He had to be strong, resolute. For Dot, if nothing else.

With a last deep breath, Kiel emerged from the storeroom, his apprentice mask firmly in place. Dot glanced up from his book, a quizzical look on his face.

"Everything alright back there? You were gone a while."

Kiel waved a dismissive hand. "Just doing some inventory. Lost track of time."

Liar. But it's for his own good. The less he knows, the safer he'll be.

Dot shrugged, accepting the half-truth with the easy trust of youth. "If you say so."

He hopped off the stool, tucking his book under his arm. "I'm gonna go grab some air before the afternoon rush, 'kay?"

A bolt of panic shot through Kiel's gut. "I don't know if that's -"

"Aw, c'mon Kiel!" Dot cut him off, a pleading note in his voice. "I'll just be out front, I promise! I'll come right back in if anyone suspicious comes by."

Kiel hesitated, torn between fear and the desire to give the boy some semblance of normalcy. Finally, he sighed.

"Alright. Just...be careful, okay? And don't go wandering off."

Dot grinned, the smile lighting his whole face. "I won't! Thanks, Kiel!"

And with that, he bounded out the door, leaving Kiel alone with his churning thoughts.

He'll be fine. It's broad daylight, and he'll stay close. No one's going to snatch him off the street in front of the Light and everyone.

But the worry gnawed at him nevertheless, a cold rat behind his breastbone. It was all he could do not to run after the boy, to bundle him up and lock him away somewhere safe.

Stop it. You can't wrap him in wool forever. He needs room to breathe, to grow. Smothering him will only breed resentment.

And the Light knew Kiel had more than enough of that bubbling in his own heart. The last thing he wanted was to foster that same bitterness in Dot.

With an effort, he turned his mind to the problem at hand. He needed information, and he needed it fast. But he couldn't risk being seen visiting his usual informants, not with the Inquisition's eyes everywhere.

Pigeon post? No, too easily intercepted. A [Sending] cantrip? I'm not skilled enough to avoid detection.

What he needed was a go-between, someone beneath suspicion who could carry messages on his behalf. But who? He didn't dare trust any of his street contacts, not with stakes this high.

He drummed his fingers on the counter, racking his brain. There had to be some angle he hadn't considered, some way to turn his skills to his advantage...

And then it hit him. A slow smile spread across his face, cold and sharp as a knife.

Of course. It's risky, but it just might work.

He was a [Pharmacist], wasn't he? Or at least, he played one convincingly enough. And what did [Pharmacists] do, if not brew potions and concoct elixirs?

I can use my skills to create something to even the odds. A potion to disorient, to confuse. Something to give me an edge if things turn sour.

He didn't kid himself that he could brew anything lethal to an intermediate [Class], not with his current level. But he didn't need to kill, just to buy himself time. A smokescreen to cover his escape, or a draught to muddle the mind and dull the reflexes.

He was already running through ingredients in his head, mentally tallying his stock. Nightshade, to numb and befuddle. Hellebore, to induce vertigo and confusion. A touch of aconite, perhaps, to set the heart racing and the mind reeling...

Yes, this could work. A few hours' brewing, and I'll have an arsenal no one will expect. The kind of dirty trick a desperate man might play.

He was doing what he had to, to keep them both safe. If that meant fighting dirty...well, it wouldn't be the worst thing he'd done. Not by a long shot.

Dot can never know. He looks up to me, thinks I'm some kind of hero. And I can't bear to shatter that illusion.

Kiel closed his eyes, offering a silent prayer to gods he'd long since stopped believing in. A prayer for forgiveness, for absolution. For the strength to do what needed to be done.