Paola sat at the edge of the wagon, her legs dangling as the road to Windmere stretched before them, winding through fields of tall grass that swayed in the evening breeze. The sun was beginning its descent, casting long, golden shadows across the land, while Oso, her bear cub, napped peacefully beside her. The day had been long, and after Yasmin’s dramatic entrance—and subsequent insistence on joining them—Paola felt more confused than ever.
Yasmin was perched in the back of the wagon, leaning casually against a stack of barrels, legs crossed, seemingly without a care in the world. Her bright red hair caught the last rays of the sun, and every now and then, small sparks of magical energy would flicker around her fingertips, as if she couldn’t help but let her power leak out in little bursts. It was hard to forget that only a few hours ago, Yasmin had made a very impressive and overwhelming display of her magical abilities, which left Paola, Ayla, and even Poca on edge.
But now, as they traveled toward Windmere, the magist acted like she was just another passenger, completely at ease, as though she hadn’t forced herself onto their trip with an absurd show of power.
Paola glanced at Ayla, who had taken up her usual spot near the front of the wagon. She sat rigid, her eyes scanning the horizon, clearly still wary of their unexpected company. Poca, who was steering the oxen, seemed more relaxed, though she occasionally shot curious glances back at Yasmin, as if she was trying to figure out what made the magist tick.
Paola shifted uncomfortably. She had been silent for a while, trying to figure out what to make of this situation. Yasmin was powerful, that much was obvious. She was one of the Obsidian-tier magists from the Arcane Forge, a guild known for training combat mages in offensive and defensive magic. Windmere was her home, and judging by the way she carried herself, Yasmin was probably a big deal there. But she also had a casual, almost reckless way of interacting with people, as if nothing really fazed her.
For all her bravado, though, Yasmin hadn’t really been threatening after her initial display. If anything, she seemed curious—about Oso, about Paola herself. And it occurred to Paola that maybe—just maybe—having someone native to Windmere, especially someone with as much influence as Yasmin, might be useful.
Paola took a deep breath and decided to go for it. She wasn’t sure if it was the right call, but sitting in silence wasn’t helping anyone.
“Hey, Yasmin,” she began, her voice hesitant. She didn’t know how to approach this magist, who could summon explosive magic and laugh in the face of danger. “You’re from Windmere, right?”
Yasmin turned her head, her amber eyes lighting up with interest. “Born and raised,” she replied, smiling. “Why? Interested in the city?”
Paola shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I guess. We’re heading there, and I don’t really know much about the place.” She glanced at Ayla, who remained focused on the road ahead, before looking back at Yasmin. “I thought... maybe you could tell me about it. You know, since you’re a local.”
Yasmin’s eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly catching onto Paola’s hesitance. “Ah, so you’re finally taking advantage of having a Windmere native around? Smart move.” She stretched her arms above her head, her wings fluttering slightly, then leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she considered Paola. “What do you want to know?”
Paola chewed on her bottom lip, unsure of where to start. Windmere seemed like a sprawling, complicated city, and she didn’t want to come off as completely clueless. “I guess... what’s it like? Windmere, I mean. I’ve heard it’s a big trade city, but what’s it like to actually live there?”
Yasmin grinned, clearly pleased by the question. “Windmere’s incredible,” she said, her voice filled with pride. “It’s one of the biggest port cities on the western coast. The Serene Sea stretches out forever, and the whole city’s built in these concentric circles that spread out from the Hearthstone Plaza. The layout’s pretty unique—it kind of feels like you’re always spiraling toward the sea, no matter where you are.”
Paola nodded, trying to picture it. She had heard about the city's famous concentric circles, but hearing it described by someone who lived there made it feel more real.
“The Hearthstone Plaza,” Yasmin continued, “is the heart of the city. It’s where everything happens. Festivals, markets, announcements—it's all there. There’s this monument in the center, the Pillar of the Tides, that has water constantly cascading down its sides. It’s a symbol of Windmere’s connection to the sea. There’s a constant buzz there, with performers, vendors, and people from all over the world coming through the port.”
Paola raised an eyebrow. “Performers? Like... street performers?”
Yasmin nodded enthusiastically. “Yep. You’ll find all kinds—jugglers, musicians, even magists showing off their skills for a bit of coin. Windmere’s a city that never really sleeps. At night, the whole place lights up with lanterns, and the streets are alive with energy.”
Paola glanced at Oso, who had rolled over in his sleep, his paws twitching as if he were dreaming. “Sounds like there’s always something going on.”
“Oh, there is,” Yasmin replied, leaning back again, her smile softening slightly. “But it’s not all noise and chaos. Windmere’s got its quieter spots too. The Mariner’s Quarter, for example—that’s where most of the sailors and fishermen live. It’s right by the docks, so you can smell the sea everywhere. The streets are narrower there, more... homey. People hang lanterns outside their doors, and ivy grows up the stone walls. It’s a nice place to take a walk if you want to get away from the crowds.”
Paola was surprised by the sudden sincerity in Yasmin’s tone. For a moment, she wasn’t the loud, flamboyant magist who had burst onto their journey with explosions and sparks. She sounded like someone who genuinely cared about her city.
“The docks are probably my favorite place,” Yasmin admitted, her voice thoughtful. “There’s something about watching the ships come and go, seeing the sun set over the water... It’s peaceful, in a way that reminds you that the world’s a lot bigger than just you.”
Paola wasn’t sure what to say. She had expected Yasmin to brag about Windmere’s power or wealth, but instead, the magist seemed to appreciate the simple beauty of the city.
Yasmin must have noticed Paola’s expression because she suddenly grinned and leaned in, her playful energy returning. “But don’t get me wrong, Windmere’s not all calm and pretty views. The Silver Docks, where the real action happens, are always bustling with sailors, traders, and magists. You can find the best taverns there too—places where you can drink till sunrise and hear stories from all over Udanara. I’ll take you to one when we get there. It’s called the Gilded Anchor. You’ll love it.”
Paola chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m not much of a drinker.”
Yasmin waved a hand dismissively. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not about the drinking—it’s about the stories. You’d be surprised what you can learn from a bunch of drunk sailors.”
Poca, who had been quietly listening from her seat at the front, chimed in. “I ‘ave been to Windmere once,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “Ze architecture is stunning. Ze buildings are all made from stone and wood, with red clay roofs zat seem to stretch on forever. It’s like walking through a painting.”
Yasmin nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! The whole city looks like it was carved out of a dream. You’ll see it when we get there—red clay roofs, ivy-covered stone walls, and everywhere you look, you can catch a glimpse of the sea.”
Paola hesitated for a moment, then decided to ask something that had been bothering her. “You mentioned the Arcane Forge earlier,” she said carefully, “where you and your sister train. What exactly is it like there? It sounds... intense.”
Yasmin’s smile widened, and for a moment, Paola could see the excitement in her eyes. “Oh, the Arcane Forge is unlike any other place in Windmere. It’s not your typical mage guild, where people sit around reading ancient tomes. No, the Arcane Forge is all about magic in action. Combat, tactics, elemental control—we train to use magic on the battlefield, not just in some quiet study room.”
She leaned forward, her voice dropping slightly as if she were sharing a secret. “It’s tough, though. They push us hard, especially the Obsidian-tier magists like me and Yucca. We’re responsible for Windmere’s magical defense. The city relies on us to keep things running smoothly when trouble comes knocking.”
Paola raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a lot of pressure.”
Yasmin shrugged, but there was a hint of seriousness in her expression. “It is. But we’re trained for it. Every magist at the Arcane Forge has to prove themselves, not just with raw power, but with control, strategy, and discipline. It’s not just about flinging fireballs around—it’s about knowing when to use them.”
She glanced at Ayla, who was still quietly listening. “I’m guessing you know a bit about pressure too, being a Sword Maiden of Lady Marcelline and all. That kind of responsibility doesn’t just go away.”
Ayla nodded slightly but remained silent, her expression thoughtful.
Yasmin continued, her tone a little lighter now. “Anyway, that’s why I’m here. I was tracking magical residue left behind by those rogue magists you took out. You and Oso have been leaving a trail of breadcrumbs since then—elemental magic, traces of energy. It’s easy to track, once you know what to look for.”
Paola blinked, taken aback. “Wait... you mean, we’ve been leaving a magical trail this whole time?”
Yasmin nodded casually. “Yep. Every time you use magic, even if it’s subtle, it leaves behind a signature. That’s how I found you.”
Paola felt her head start to swim. She had never considered herself a magical fighter, but Yasmin was treating her like one. “I... don’t really think of myself as using magic,” she admitted, her voice uncertain. “I’ve got abilities, sure, but magic? That’s different.”
Yasmin shrugged. “Abilities, magic—it’s all the same thing in Udanara. The line between the two is thinner than you think.”
Paola stared at Yasmin, her brain struggling to process the magist's casual statement about magic and abilities being the same thing. Magic and abilities… the same? That couldn’t be right. She’d always thought of magic as something practiced and controlled—something learned. Her abilities, though? They were wild, chaotic, and came from somewhere deep within her that she barely understood. They couldn’t be the same… could they?
She shifted uncomfortably, her gaze flicking to Ayla, hoping for some kind of explanation.
Ayla, sensing her confusion, cleared her throat and shook her head slightly. “It’s not as fine a line as Yasmin makes it sound,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring. “She’s an expert in magic, just like I am with the sword. To someone like her, magic and abilities might seem like the same thing because she has complete mastery over them.”
Paola furrowed her brow, not entirely convinced. “So, you’re saying they’re not the same?”
“Not exactly,” Ayla continued, glancing at Yasmin, who was watching their exchange with a curious smile. “Think of magic as something that can be shaped and controlled through training, focus, and discipline. Abilities, though—they’re more instinctual. They come from within and can be chaotic or unpredictable, especially if you’re not fully in control of them.”
Yasmin tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with interest. “That’s a fair way to explain it. But once you learn to control your abilities, they can be honed just like magic. Trust me, Paola—you might not realize it, but you’ve got a lot more in common with magic users than you think.”
Paola rubbed her temples, the weight of the conversation making her head spin. “But my abilities… they’re just chaos. I can’t control them. It’s like they come out when I’m pushed too far.”
Ayla hesitated for a moment, then sighed, as if deciding it was better to come clean since they were already on this topic. “Yasmin, you should know that Paola has an affinity for chaos.”
The moment the words left Ayla’s mouth, Yasmin’s eyes widened in shock. Her playful demeanor faltered for the first time since they met, and she leaned forward, staring at Paola as if seeing her for the first time. “Chaos? You’ve got a chaos affinity?”
Paola blinked, taken aback by Yasmin’s sudden shift in tone. “Uh, yeah? Is that… bad?”
Yasmin let out a low whistle, her expression shifting from shock to something closer to admiration. “Not bad. Rare. Extremely rare, in fact. Chaos is one of the hardest affinities to control—it’s wild, unpredictable, and dangerous, but if you can harness it…” She trailed off, her eyes flickering with something that might have been envy or excitement. “You could be incredibly powerful.”
Paola’s heart raced. The way Yasmin was looking at her made her feel both exposed and uneasy. “I… I barely understand it. And honestly, it feels like it’s more of a problem than anything.”
Yasmin leaned back, a playful glint in her eye. “Yeah, chaos affinity is impressive but troublesome, but let me tell you something,” she said, her voice lowering just slightly, like she was sharing a secret. “I’ve got a rare affinity myself. Not as wild as chaos, but still pretty intense.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Paola raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh yeah? What’s yours?”
Yasmin grinned, holding up her hand. A small flame flickered to life on her palm, but it wasn’t just fire. Sparks of electricity crackled through it, dancing around the flame. “Explosion,” she said, her voice filled with pride. “Started with fire, then bonded it with thunder. Took years of practice, but now? Boom.”
Paola watched the flickering fire and lightning mix in awe, but before she could react, Ayla nearly dropped her sword. Her jaw went slack, eyes wide as she stared at Yasmin.
“Wait,” Ayla said, her voice tinged with disbelief, “you said explosion? You have an explosion affinity?”
Yasmin grinned, clearly pleased by Ayla’s reaction. “Yep, that’s me. I started out with a fire affinity, but over the years, I advanced my magic by acquiring a thunder affinity and fusing it with my fire to create explosions.” She held up her hand, and a tiny spark of fire danced between her fingers before crackling with a hint of electricity. “The result? Pure, controlled chaos.”
Paola watched the exchange, feeling more and more out of her depth. Ayla, who was always so composed, had finally shown true surprise. Paola couldn’t help but feel like she was missing something important. “So… is that, like, a big deal?” she asked, her voice hesitant.
Ayla nodded slowly, her eyes still fixed on Yasmin. “It’s not just a big deal—it’s almost unheard of. Advancing your affinity takes decades of practice and mastery. To take something as raw as fire and bond it with thunder, creating something entirely new… that’s on a different level. It’s like combining the sharpness of a sword with the force of a war hammer.”
Yasmin chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention. “Yeah, well, it took me a while to get there. I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to blow things up. It took years of refining my magic, figuring out how to control the intensity without losing myself in it. But now? Explosion magic is second nature to me. It’s who I am.”
Paola nodded along, trying to act like she understood what was being said, but the truth was that she was completely lost. “So… how does that work? You just… make things explode?”
Yasmin laughed, a warm, genuine sound that took Paola by surprise. “Not exactly. My affinity is tied to explosion magic, sure, but I also use regular fire and thunder magic when I need to. Explosion is just the result of combining the two in the right way.” She gestured to her hand, where the tiny fire and thunder sparks had now merged into a small but powerful crackle of energy. “This little trick is the product of years of practice. It’s all about balance.”
Paola stared at the flickering energy, her brain struggling to keep up. The concept of affinities, magic, abilities—it was all getting tangled in her mind. Up until now, her journey through Udanara had been about survival, about getting through one battle after another. She hadn’t stopped to think about the deeper connections between her abilities and the world of magic she had been thrown into. Now, it felt like her brain was trying to catch up all at once, and it was exhausting.
Ayla, sensing Paola’s overwhelm, moved closer and sat down beside her on the wagon bed, her posture unusually relaxed. It was a gesture of support Paola hadn’t expected, and it made her feel a little less alone in this confusing conversation.
“It’s a lot to take in,” Ayla said quietly, her voice gentle. “Magic and abilities aren’t simple concepts, especially for someone who hasn’t had formal training in either.”
Paola nodded, grateful for Ayla’s presence. “Yeah, no kidding. I’ve been in fights before, but this… this feels different. Like there’s this whole world of magic I don’t even understand, and I’m supposed to just... figure it out?”
Yasmin leaned back against the barrels once more, watching the two of them with a soft smile. “Don’t worry too much about it. I was just like you once—confused, unsure of what my magic could do. But over time, you’ll learn. Udanara is a place of discovery, after all. You’ll figure out how your chaos affinity works, just like I figured out my explosion magic.”
Paola let out a long breath, her mind still spinning with everything she had learned. Chaos affinity, magic, abilities—it all felt like a jumble of words that didn’t make sense yet. But as she looked at Yasmin, she realized something important: Yasmin had been where she was now. She had started as someone unsure of her abilities, and over time, she had become one of the most powerful magists in Windmere.
Yasmin stretched her arms above her head, her wings fluttering lazily as she glanced toward the setting sun. “Well, I’ve probably given you enough of a headache for today,” she said, her tone light and teasing. “But don’t worry, Paola—you’ll get the hang of it. You’ve got a rare gift. It just takes time to figure it out.”
Paola nodded slowly, still unsure but grateful for the encouragement. She glanced at Oso, who was now awake and watching Yasmin with his curious, dark eyes. The little bear had been with her through all of this, through every battle and challenge, and somehow, that made her feel a little more grounded.
Yasmin caught Paola’s gaze and smiled warmly. “And hey, thanks for letting me tag along. I could literally fly to Windmere, but riding with you all has been... a nice change of pace.”
Paola raised an eyebrow, her mouth twitching into a small smile. “Yeah, thanks for not blowing anything up. Yet.”
Yasmin laughed again, the sound light and carefree. “I make no promises.”
As the cart rumbled along the darkening road, the city of Windmere came into view at last. Its towering walls rose like sentinels in the twilight, stretching high above the surrounding plains. The red glow of the setting sun cast deep shadows across the weathered stone, and as nightfall crept closer, the stars began to flicker into existence, littering the sky with soft light. From a distance, Windmere appeared like a beacon, the warm glow of lanterns from within the city walls reflecting on the darkening waters of the Sapphire Sea.
Yasmin leaned forward, her amber eyes gleaming with a mixture of nostalgia and pride as she gazed upon her home. "Look at her," she said, her voice filled with reverence. "Windmere. The walls have stood for centuries, and they’re as strong as they’ve ever been. They say the stone was quarried from deep within the Spinal Range and enchanted by the first magists of the Arcane Forge. Nothing gets through those walls without permission, not pirates, not armies, not even a storm."
Paola and Ayla listened, their eyes following Yasmin's gaze. The walls were impressive—massive, fortified with guard towers at regular intervals. There was a subtle shimmer to the stone, a magical sheen that hinted at the ancient enchantments that Yasmin spoke of. The gates, tall and formidable, were flanked by guards in polished armor, their spears catching the last of the fading light.
Yasmin straightened up, brushing some dust from her cloak. "Don't worry," she added with a smirk. "I'll get you through those gates. I've heard enough about Abraham and your journey to know it's time for me to lend a hand."
Paola let out a small sigh of relief. While the journey had been long and filled with tension, having someone of Yasmin’s rank from the Arcane Forge with them made things easier—at least, in theory. Ayla nodded in agreement, the weight of their mission settling in now that Windmere was in sight.
Yasmin, her voice light, leaned back in the cart. “So, Paola, you said you’re from Valarian?”
Paola tensed slightly, her mind racing. She had only just begun to understand her chaotic abilities, and she’d carefully avoided mentioning her true origin as a Void Borne, a fallen star. It was information far too dangerous to reveal to someone as powerful and curious as Yasmin. Especially someone from a magical guild like the Arcane Forge.
“Yeah,” Paola replied cautiously, trying to keep her tone casual. “Valarian. It’s… not as intricate as Windmere, but it’s home.”
Yasmin narrowed her eyes, her expression thoughtful. “And you’ve just recently discovered your chaos affinity?”
Paola nodded, her heart pounding. “Yeah, I didn’t really understand it until recently. I always thought it was just… something wrong with me. Turns out it’s magic, I guess.”
Yasmin chuckled softly, though there was a sharpness in her eyes that made Paola uneasy. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Paola. Chaos magic is rare, but it’s powerful. Unpredictable, sure, but if you learn to harness it… well, you could become something truly extraordinary.”
Ayla, sensing the shift in the conversation, intervened with a measured tone. “She’s still learning. It’s not as simple as just using chaos magic—it takes time, discipline.”
Yasmin nodded, but there was a flicker of suspicion in her gaze, as if she wasn’t entirely buying the story. “True. But affinities usually manifest earlier, don’t they? Most people discover their magic when they’re younger.” She tilted her head, her eyes locking onto Paola’s. “You must have been hiding it for a long time.”
Paola forced a smile, trying to suppress the rising panic. “I guess so. It’s all been… confusing.”
Yasmin’s smile widened, but there was an unmistakable edge to it now. “Valarian, you say? Interesting. I’ve been there a few times. Nice place, though a bit more reserved when it comes to magic.”
Paola nodded, her mind spinning with possible responses. She couldn’t afford to let Yasmin dig too deeply into her past—her true past. If she found out about Paola being a Void Borne, it would raise questions they couldn’t afford to answer. Even Ayla, despite her calm demeanor, looked a little more tense than usual.
Yasmin, ever the observant one, seemed to notice the unease but chose not to push it further. Instead, she glanced at the towering walls of Windmere once more. "Well, it doesn’t matter now. We’re almost there, and I can’t wait to be back. Windmere’s always had a special energy at night, don’t you think?”
Paola, grateful for the change in topic, nodded as she gazed at the city. The stars above were now fully visible, twinkling against the deep indigo sky. The lights from within the city illuminated the walls, casting long shadows across the land. The Sapphire Sea reflected the starlight, a vast, dark mirror stretching out to the horizon. Windmere was beautiful, there was no denying that. But it was also imposing—full of secrets and power.
Yasmin continued, her voice softer now, almost nostalgic. “The city really comes alive at night. The docks, the market square, the Guilds’ Circle—it’s like the whole place has a heartbeat. The wind from the sea mixes with the smells of spice and salt, and the sound of laughter drifts through the streets. It’s a city that never really sleeps.”
Paola could almost picture it—the bustling streets, the lively atmosphere, the blend of old and new that Windmere seemed to embody. There was something magical about it, and not just in the literal sense. But even as Yasmin described the city’s beauty, Paola couldn’t shake the feeling that Windmere held its own dangers. The walls may have been built to keep threats out, but what kind of power lay within?
Yasmin leaned forward again, her eyes dancing with mischief. "And don’t worry about getting in. The guards at the gate? They know me. A quick word, a flash of my emblem, and we’ll be inside before you know it."
Ayla, ever the pragmatic one, shot Yasmin a skeptical look. "Just like that?"
Yasmin grinned. "Just like that. Trust me, being a magist of the Arcane Forge has its perks. They’ll let us through—especially if I mention our mission to get Abraham to his aunt. Besides,” she added with a wink, “I’ve traveled with you all long enough to feel invested.”
Paola managed a small smile, though her mind was still racing. Yasmin had been traveling with them for only a few hours, but it already felt like she was digging for something more. Something Paola wasn’t ready to reveal.
Ayla, sensing Paola’s discomfort, shifted slightly, her hand resting on her sword hilt in a casual, almost protective gesture. “Well, we appreciate the help, Yasmin. But let’s keep things simple. We’re just here to drop off Abraham and keep moving.”
Yasmin raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by Ayla’s protective stance. “Of course. Simple. I’ll keep my curiosity in check… for now.”
Paola felt a knot in her stomach. Yasmin was playing it off as a joke, but there was an underlying curiosity there that made her nervous. The magist clearly suspected there was more to their story, and it was only a matter of time before she started asking more pointed questions.
As the cart rolled closer to Windmere, Paola’s eyes were drawn to the towering structure standing sentinel over the harbor—the Windspire. It loomed above the city, its lighthouse beacon casting a soft, steady light over the darkened waters of the Sapphire Sea. Even from this distance, the Windspire was majestic, its spiraling stone tower visible against the backdrop of the night sky, where stars glimmered like tiny jewels scattered across velvet. Paola couldn't take her eyes off it, mesmerized by the sheer scale and the importance it seemed to hold.
Yasmin noticed Paola’s gaze lingering on the Windspire and grinned. “Ah, the Windspire," she said, her voice softening for a moment. "It’s more than just a lighthouse, you know. It’s a symbol of Windmere’s strength. The beacon guides ships safely into the harbor, but it’s also used to keep an eye on things. Threats from the sea, incoming storms, the occasional pirate… nothing gets by without the Windspire catching it first.”
Paola nodded absently, still entranced by the structure. “It’s… beautiful.”
Yasmin chuckled. “It is. And it’s also where we hold the Windspire Festival every year. The whole city comes alive for it—ship races, parades, feasts, all to celebrate our maritime heritage. The beacon is lit as a symbol of protection and prosperity, and you can see the glow for miles. It’s quite a sight.”
As the cart moved closer to the gates, Paola noticed the city’s walls becoming more distinct in the fading light. The massive stone fortifications were just as impressive as the lighthouse, a testament to Windmere’s history of standing strong against invasions and natural disasters. The guards at the gate were already preparing to meet them, their armor glinting faintly under the flickering torchlight.
Yasmin stretched lazily and winked at Paola. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” She hopped off the cart with a carefree bounce and approached the gate with an air of complete confidence.
One of the guards, a burly man with a perpetually sour expression, stepped forward, his eyes narrowing the moment he saw Yasmin. “Oh, not you again,” he groaned. “What is it this time, Yasmin? You setting more things on fire?”
Yasmin blinked innocently, then gave him a playful grin. “Well, not right now. But hey, sometimes a little fire is necessary, you know?”
The guard crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. “Necessary? Like that forest fire you caused last week?”
Paola’s ears perked up, and she glanced back toward the woods they had recently passed. She had noticed some scorched areas, but she hadn't realized it had been so recent—or that it was Yasmin’s doing.
Yasmin waved a dismissive hand, her tone air-headed but cheerful. “Oh, come on, Geralt! That forest needed clearing anyway. It’s not my fault fire happens to be my thing. Think of all the fire-enchanted wood they can collect now!”
Geralt rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated. “It’s not your job to clear the forest, Yasmin. That’s the foresters’ job. You almost burned down half the Verdant Ward!”
Yasmin puffed out her chest, undeterred. “Almost, but didn’t. That’s the key difference, Geralt. Plus, think of it as me helping them out! They’ve been talking about needing fire-enchanted wood for years, and I just sped up the process.”
The guard groaned, massaging his temples. “You are the reason we have an entire division dedicated to fixing the things you blow up, you know that?”
Yasmin flashed him a bright smile. “And they should be thanking me! It keeps them employed, doesn’t it?”
Geralt sighed heavily, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Yasmin, you’ve got to stop treating the city like your personal playground. You’re going to get us all in trouble one day.”
Yasmin shrugged nonchalantly. “Hey, I do what needs to be done. It’s not my fault things just… happen to explode around me.”
Geralt threw his hands up in frustration. “You set the forest on fire! That’s not just ‘things happening,’ that’s outright chaos!”
Yasmin winked. “That’s the spirit! Chaos keeps things interesting.”
Despite Geralt’s grumbling, Yasmin clearly had some pull with the guards. After a few more complaints about her “antics,” Geralt grudgingly waved the group through the gates. "Get inside before I change my mind," he muttered, clearly resigned to his fate of dealing with Yasmin on a regular basis.
Without so much as a second glance at the cart or its passengers, the guards opened the gates wide, allowing the group to enter the city. Paola watched in disbelief as they were let through without so much as a cursory inspection.
Yasmin sauntered back over to the cart, hopping on with a smug smile. “See? Easy as pie.”
Ayla, sitting beside Paola, raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised they let us through without checking anything after all that.”
Yasmin leaned back, hands behind her head, as if she hadn’t just been involved in a heated debate about a forest fire. “Eh, Geralt loves me. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
Paola couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. Yasmin, for all her recklessness, had somehow managed to get them into Windmere with minimal hassle. It was both impressive and terrifying.
As the cart trundled through the open gates and into the city proper, Paola glanced back one more time at the Windspire, its light casting a soft glow over the harbor. Windmere was just as Yasmin had described—alive, vibrant, and full of secrets. And with Yasmin by their side, there was no telling what kind of chaos awaited them.
“Well,” Paola muttered under her breath, “this is going to be interesting.”