BOOK ONE

THE RIVER KING

Chapter One: Outsiders

Nudge.

“Finn…”

No response. Another nudge.

“Finneas!”

This time the voice was louder. Still no response. Yet another nudge.

"Finneas Breydan, you lazy git!" the girl's voice yelled, using the boy's full name. “Get up, you're late!"

Finneas shot up, jolted by the sudden shock. He stretched his arms out, yawning. He looked over to see Mollie. The red-haired girl had a stern face as if she was trying to tell him off.

“Finally you wake,” she commented. “The way you were sleeping, I thought you’d never wake up.”

“What time is it?” Finneas said, still sounding drowsy.

“Late,” Mollie replied. “You’re meant to catch fish today. Did you forget?”

The girl’s comment made Finneas’s stomach sink. He had completely forgotten about how the harbourmaster had decided the boys would help the fisherman with fishing. After days of bad weather, with a storm battering up the coast, the rain stopped yesterday evening, prompting the decision that it was safe for the kids to help.

Finneas leapt from his bed. He made his way to the cupboard, where he found the first shirt he could find. All the boys shared the cupboard with the other boys, so occasionally he would pick out someone else’s clothes. Finneas dragged the shirt on. It might've been his friend's shirt. It was a tad too big for him. He grabbed a pair of trousers, putting them on. Much to Finneas’s luck, it was his trousers. Finally, he grabbed his jumper.

“Now you get up,” Mollie remarked sarcastically. Mollie watched as he got himself ready.

“I’m not that bad, am I?”

“Compared to Kist, no…” Mollie chuckled. “But at least he remembered to wake up.”

“He’s already there?”

"I assume so. Unless he's planning to skive."

Finneas began walking down the hallway, Mollie following from behind. Opening the door, Finneas entered the bathroom. Mollie remained just outside, standing by the doorway. He turned the tap, allowing water to fill the sink. He began splashing his face with water.

He stared up at his face. Slight freckles on the nose. He used to get mocked for that, but he always ignored those taunts. Fighting back never worked, Finneas always told himself. Violence was never his thing. That was more Kistoph’s thing. His friend would beat any kid who mocked Finneas, even if Finneas had specifically asked Kistoph not to lay the person out. He worried someday his friend would pick on something he couldn’t chew. He’d hate to see his friend get hurt, especially if Finneas had caused it and not his friend.

Finneas looked at his curly hair. It wasn't as long or unruly as his younger brother's set of curls, but he always found it difficult to maintain. Occasionally, he'd get it cut. But it always grew back. Using his fingers, Finneas quickly and crudely combed his hair.

“You know you’re late, right?” Finneas heard Mollie nag. “You don’t have to fuss too much about appearance.”

She was right. No one cared what Finneas looked like. Most people didn’t give two glances to an orphan. He was the lowest of the low, and he knew it. He was mostly unpaid labour. They might’ve disguised it as an apprenticeship, but Finneas was never paid. He was lucky he was allowed to keep the last catch of the day.

“I better get going then,” he said.

Making sure the matron wasn’t looking, Finneas sneaked out of the orphanage. He made his way down one of the winding backstreets. Being born and raised there, he knew the streets of Angleum with the palms of his hands. Most outsiders would get confused with the maze-like city layout. Finneas, however, knew every single shortcut – each and all nook and cranny. He had been picked on from time to time. So it was important for him to learn all the hideouts and shortcuts to avoid any trouble.

Eventually reaching the city’s main street, which went from the mayor’s house right down to the city’s docks, Finneas made his way through the busy crowd. There were quite a few people out today. Most didn't give a second glance to the orphan. Most people didn't care. Finneas didn't mind. He didn't need the attention, especially since he was late.

Finneas found himself at the docks. He wandered carefully through the crowd, pushing his way through the masses of people. Because of the previous few days of rain, most people were eager to make the most of the day. For all they knew, it would rain the next day. There were all sorts of people, ranging from the elderly fishermen, who’ve been working on the docks for years, to wharf merchants, desperate to sell their wares.

He could smell the scent of different types of fish, including tuna – his favourite. Finneas cautiously ambled across the wooden planks which made up the wharf. Although many of the planks were centuries old, a few of them were from other ages, where the older planks had rotted so badly, that they had been replaced with newer timber.

“You are late,” a voice groaned. As Finneas continued to talk, his body started to quiver. Fear made him want to turn back. He began regretting even getting out of bed. Ignoring his subconscious, Finneas walked on.

“Don’t look at me like that,” the voice continued its coarse growling.

“I’d something to do. It was very important. A delivery. The matron had a task for me,” he muttered. He came up with the best excuse he could think of. He hoped no one could hear what he had just said, but the voice, unfortunately, understood every single word. The harbourmaster, who oversaw the younger fishermen, slowly appeared from the shadows of the crowd, grabbing hold of the boy.

“How dare you lie, you little scamp,” he snapped. "I was just talking to the matron, half an hour ago. She said nothing of such a task. I even asked where you were. She didn't know either."

From the tone of his voice, he wasn’t happy and Finneas knew perfectly well that he was in trouble. He tried to wiggle his way out of the man’s grip, but it didn’t work. The harbourmaster was much stronger than him. The man had strong arms, probably caused by pulling large nets from the sea. It didn’t help that Finneas was small for his age.

“Please don’t hurt me,” Finneas pleaded. “Please...”

His teacher grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. Pulling the boy closer, the harbourmaster stared directly into Finneas’s eyes.

“It’d a shame I can’t send you down the mines,” he growled. “You wouldn’t last one second there. Your death won’t even matter.” The man seemed to enjoy taunting the boy.

"Well, you can't…" Finneas began to speak. He stopped. Probably not the best.

“I can’t?” the man asked, his question sounding extremely demanding. “I can’t do what?” he repeated.

“Send me down the mines,” Finneas said timidly.

“Oh, times have changed. You think you're so smart? A real smart Alek?” the harbourmaster smirked. “You ain’t off the hook. You better get working, damn tyke."

With one mighty swing, the harbourmaster pushed him towards the other kids. They'd all witnessed the scene Finneas had caused. Somewhat embarrassed, he approached his friend Kistoph.

“Did you sleep in again?” his friend asked. Finneas simply nodded.

“Why’d you not wake me up?”

“Bro,” Kistoph answered, “you looked so peaceful. Plus I thought you wanted to sleep in.”

“Not today,” Finneas complained. “

“Well, you should think about buying an alarm.”

It was easy for Kistoph to say that. However, an alarm clock was expensive. Only the rich kids owned something like that. It didn't help that magic-powered alarms were expensive to run. And automated ones, which didn't need magic to work, were even dearer. It didn't help that there were thieves living in the orphanage. The alarm could easily be stolen. Valuable items like that usually went missing, anyway.

Finneas noticed how his friend hadn't caught anything yet. How long had Kistoph been out here? He decided not to ask. Instead of throwing a line out, hoping for a catch, his friend was busy kicking the water. His fishing kit was idly sitting a few feet or so away from him, predictably being ignored.

Similar to Finneas, Kistoph was wearing what was typical for an Estmere youth. He wore canvas pants probably a few sizes too small for him, a thin-layered shirt covered with a knitted jumper, and brown leather sandals.

Kistoph had muddy blond hair, with a slight tinge of ginger. His cheeks were slightly puffed red. He always kept bringing up the fact his father was an outsider. An orphan, like Finneas; the two boys had been friends for years. Everyone kept mentioning how the two were inseparable. It was strange since they were the total opposite.

While Finneas preferred to remain in the background, Kistoph thrived on attention. He always liked to be the centre of everything, to the point of annoyance. His friend was a bit of a goof and occasionally clowned about. But the two boys always got along. People kept telling Finneas how his friend was a bad influence. He always ignored their advice. Kistoph was a good person at heart.

"So how long do you think we'll be out here for?" Finneas asked. “It’s getting pretty chilly.”

Finneas needed a new jumper. The one he was wearing was a bit too big for him – he'd lost his old one and was forced to wear one of the older boy's sweaters. The sleeve was torn to fit the boy’s arms.

“Not sure,” Kistoph replied with a sense of uncertainty. “It all depends on the weather. Let’s hope for rain. A few drops will do.”

“Well, at least Nance can do something with the fish we catch,” Finneas remarked.

Nance was the orphanage's cook. She was one of the few friendly faces. Where most grownups couldn't care less about the kids, the cook always went out of her way to be nice. Her food wasn't all that fantastic – she did the best with what she had – but at least they had something to eat. It was either that or eat stale bread.

As for the matron, that was another story. The woman was an old hag. She might've been younger, but time hadn't fared well for her. She always seemed ancient. Everyone knew she hated children. But since she needed the money, she worked there anyway. She made sure the kids' lives were a living hell. Finneas made an effort not to cross paths with the matron.

“Let’s hope the old hag don’t force us to starve,” Kistoph commented. “She’s been in a real foul mood lately.”

“It doesn’t help you keep peeing her off,” Finneas joked.

“Hey,” his friend said defensively, “it wasn’t my fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” Finneas smirked. “It wasn’t your fault you left one of the windows open.”

“Well…” his friend attempted to change the topic, “…we better get to work, I suppose.”

In the far distance, Finneas could hear seagulls screaming. Occasionally the birds would approach the harbour. The pests would try and steal whatever the fishermen had caught. In response, they would shoo the birds away. The seagulls usually came back. Strangely, the birds were avoiding the docks. Perhaps they'd found food somewhere else, Finneas pondered. At least something was enjoying their day.

Finneas threw a line out. Hopefully, he could catch a few fish. Better than nothing, he assumed. The matron usually nagged on the boys who didn't catch anything. She usually ignored Kistoph. His friend looked a lot tougher than he was. However, Finneas was small enough to be a target. It was best to impress matron, even if she didn't give two tosses for him.

An hour or so passed. Not even a single bite.

“Caught anything?” Finneas asked his friend.

Kistoph shook his head.

“Nope, sorry,” he replied, somewhat apologetically, “Been too lazy today. Plus, I think yesterday’s rain scared the fish away.”

Of course, what Kistoph said was highly ridiculous. Fish swam in water; they don’t care whether it’s raining or not. They’re already wet.

The harbourmaster was staring at them, probably working out whether the two boys were actually doing anything. Kistoph quickly threw out a fishing line, however, without any bait at the end. At least he was trying to look busy.

Noticing the harbourmaster had stopped inspecting them, Finneas signalled to his friend that it was safe to pull the line back in. As expected, the hook was empty. No fish, whatsoever. Kistoph made no illusion at how terrible he was at fishing. Finneas, at least, was a bit better.

Feeling a tug, Finneas realised something had bitten. he began pulling the line in, hoping it wouldn't break. It wasn't the best line, but at least it worked. The harbourmaster wasn't all too pleased whenever a boy broke his line.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“A wasted catch,” the harbourmaster would usually say, with much disappointment.

The fish wasn’t too big. It didn’t take too much strength to pull the thing in. It was maybe a few inches long. Finneas placed it next to his fishing kit. One down, a dozen or so probably to go, he told himself.

A few hours passed. A bell rang, signalling the end of the day. It was around late afternoon. Finneas had caught three fish. They weren't big or anything, but something was better than nothing. Not bad, he thought. Finneas noticed his friend hadn't caught anything. Quickly, before anyone noticed, Finneas gave Kistoph one of his catches.

“Thanks,” his friend said, softly.

Finneas quickly packed his line and hook in his fishing box, before storing that in his courier bag. Flinging the bag across his shoulder, Finneas steadily followed Kistoph. His friend packed his gear a lot quicker.

“Wait up,” Finneas yelled, trying to keep up with his friend.

Kistoph was eager to leave. The sun was beginning to set. They had a few hours of free time before having to return to the orphanage. Angleum was rather boring for a group of young urchins. There weren't too many hideouts. Most had been taken by the older kids. Neither Finneas nor Kistoph would pick a fight just for a hangout. They knew they'd get their butts whooped.

Luckily for the two boys, they'd found a small hangout within the basement of an old indoor market. The building used to get lots of business, years ago. But years hadn't fared kindly to the building. Newer market buildings opened up in other parts of town, especially the more prosperous area. Only a few merchants ever went here. Since the place was practically abandoned for most of the time, the kids used the place as a hideout. The owners of the buildings didn’t mind, anyway.

The basement room had a few couches, left there by a previous occupant. Kistoph immediately leapt into one of those couches. Wiggling his bum, he got comfortable. Finneas, however, was a bit more careful. He carefully got himself comfy.

Their friends hadn’t arrived. Although not the most popular kids out there, the two boys had a few friends. Although not orphans, their friends would hang out together. Strangely they were late. Finneas and Kistoph usually arrived after them.

“Know where Molls is?’ Kistoph asked.

“Nope,” Finneas replied.

It wasn't like he kept track of the girl at all times. Heck, Kistoph and Mollie were more like siblings. Finneas was surprised his friend didn’t know where she was. Occasionally, Mollie and some of the kids at the orphanage visited the hideout. But they mostly had other haunts.

Suddenly their friends arrived. Thorm and Charly. Finneas had known the boys for years. While not fishermen like Finneas or Kistoph, the other two boys weren’t rich or anything. Thorm was the butcher's boy. He helped his father chop up meat. Once in a while, he'd give the two orphans some steak to give to Nance. As for Charly, his father was a travelling merchant. He never got to see his father that much, since his father spent most days out of town. His father at least made enough money to buy an apartment in one of the tower blocks. Charly would brag about the view. Everyone knew the apartment was tiny, barely able to fit a small family.

“You won’t believe what happened,” Thorm announced loudly.

“Believe what?” Kistoph queried.

“There’s a Sensor in town,” the boy replied.

“No way!” Kistoph, sounding as if in disbelief. “That’s total chaff.”

Sensor never came this far south before. Finneas wasn’t even too sure whether a Sensor had visited Estmere before, let alone the town of Angleum. He was in the same position as his friend; surely Thorm was wrong.

“He’s right, man,” Charly defended. “I was there myself. The Sensor even had a spat with the Mayor. It was hilarious.”

"The mayor was like accusing the Sensor of being scum," Thorm added. “He was spitting and yelling, saying stuff about taxes or whatnot. I’m surprised the Sensor didn’t storm off right then and there.”

“Yeah, you what the mayor can be like,” Charly continued. “He was wearing that suit of his. That stupid one. Makes him look so pompous. The damn fool couldn’t have more gel in his hair. Why the old folks vote for that fool; who knows.”

"Wasn't as weird as what the Sensor wore," Thorm commented. "He had one of those white cloaks on; the one Sensors usually wear."

"But he wore jeans," Charly added. "Like, real expensive jeans. And in good condition. No holes or anything. Damn outsiders, I tell you.”

“So…” Kistoph asked. “What happened?”

“The mayor told the Sensor to pee off,” Charly explained. "The Sensor tried to say something, but he kept being cut off by the mayor. Kept being told he's full of fibs. I think he gave up. Just walked away. I'm surprised the crowd didn't chase after him."

“So where’s he know?” Kistoph queried. “The Sensor.”

“Don’t know,” Thorm answered. “Probably skipped town. Don’t blame him. Who’d want to live in this hellhole?"

The four sat back in silence. It felt strange; as if at any moment someone could say something stupid. They usually did. And it usually was Finneas. It was the case today. Kistoph opened his mouth.

“We should check on the mayor’s residence,” Kistoph proposed. “We could get some dirt on the guy.”

“You mean spy on him?” Finneas asked. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. What if we get caught?”

“We won’t,” his friend reassured him. “Trust me.”

Finneas wasn’t sure about Kistoph’s plan. There was a lingering thought they’d get caught. Finneas had been given the cane before. It wasn't something he'd want to experience again. And who knows what the punishment would be if they're caught spying on the mayor? His friend was being insistent, so Finneas decided to tag along. He wasn’t going to abandon his friend.

Thorm and Charly wished the two boys good luck. Knowing they had only an hour or so left before having to return to the orphanage, Finneas and Kistoph made their way quickly towards the mayor's residence.

The mayor wasn't all too popular with the youth. While the grownups saw him as a crowd-pleaser, the kids could look past his facade. Whatever fun the kids could find, the mayor was eager to take away. He increased the work hours for kids being apprenticed. He said it would allow the kids to learn more, but everyone knew he did it for profit. The mayor had his pocket in every business, whether it was the fisheries or factories. There were even rumours he was lobbying the republic to repeal their labour laws and allow the mines to be part of the apprenticeship scheme. He was an all-around terrible person. Any excuse to get dirt would be better than nothing.

The two boys made their way to the mayor’s residence. Checking to see whether any guards were about, Finneas and Kistoph made their way across the wall. Using Kistoph as a lift, Finneas was able to pull himself up on top of the wall. He then pulled his friend up. Before anyone could spot them, the two leap down onto the grass. Dashing across the garden, they approached the building itself.

Climbing the mayor’s residence itself wasn’t too difficult, unlike the wall surrounding the building. Checking to see whether any guards were patrolling the area, Finneas made his way up the building first. Kistoph followed from behind. The two found themselves on a balcony. They moved towards an opened window. Voices could be heard inside. One was the mayor. The other was the sound of a boy. Finneas couldn't recognise the voice. The boy mustn't be from around Angleum. He sounded northern, beyond the Short Sea. Besides that, nothing else could be identified. Finneas and Kistoph glanced through the window, their eyes barely peeking through.

“So, who we have here?” the mayor said, facing the boy.

“Lucian,” the boy said. “My name is Lucian.”

The mayor simply laughed. He didn't seem to take this boy seriously. That seemed pretty typical for the mayor. He never took anyone young serious. He only thought of them as a problem; something to be solved, or be rid of.

Lucian, as the boy called himself, was a year or so older than Finneas. He was rather slim; as if he'd been starved. He had bright blond hair, far blonder than Kistoph’s. He wore a cloak, this one a cream colour. Finneas had heard about these people. They were a Sensor’s apprentice; yet to go through the ritual that made a person a member of the Order. The boy was yet to gain his ability to sense magic.

“So Malikos sends his pet, then?” Mayor said smugly.

“I’m no pet,” Lucian said, not budging an inch.

He stood his ground, even though the mayor approached him. The mayor got incredibly close. Face to face, to be precise. The man liked to get into people's personal spaces. It was his method of intimating people. Usually, it worked. But not for this kid.

“You know why I’m here?” Lucian announced.

He was attempting to look brave, but the mayor walked past him as if he was nothing. The mayor approached the window Finneas and Kistoph were peeking through. The two boys ducked for cover, hiding from sight.

“It that Sensor,” they could hear the mayor say. “Seb… er… Sebasten… was it?”

“Yes... Sebastos,” Lucian was heard saying. “He’s gone against the Order. Malik sent me to comprehend him. If you know his location, it would… be wise to tell me.”

Finneas quickly glanced up. The mayor had turned back to look at Lucian. The man walked towards Lucian, who was still standing defiantly. Whoever he was, the boy was brave.

"I had a debate with him," the mayor explained. "A fiasco outside town hall. An embarrassment. Hopefully, it doesn't affect my re-election."

“The Order can assure you, you’ll remain mayor,” Lucian said, before adding, “as long as you follow Malik’s instruction.”

“If it will get rid of you, then so be it,” the mayor, now sounding extremely aggressive. He probably saw Lucian as a bug; some annoyance to flick away. “He said something of a cave. A source or something. I don’t know. Just leave, before I change my mind.”

Just as the mayor said that Kistoph made a large sneeze. The look on his face seemed as if he was trying to say sorry. Knowing the noise most likely alerted everyone, both boys knew they needed to get away as quickly.

Finneas and Kistoph quickly climbed down the building. Dashing across the mayor's garden, they came upon the wall. Finneas looked to see whether guards were approaching. There wasn't any. Kistoph again helped lift Finneas on top of the wall. Finneas then grabbed hold of his friend, pulling him up. Like before, both boys leapt from the wall, although this time Finneas felt ground-shock went he stumbled onto the pavement. Knowing they didn't have much time to think about the pain, the two boys sprinted as fast as they could.

They continued running down the main road, bewildering those that were browsing the market stalls. Gradually, the two boys began to slow down. Now jogging, they came upon an alley. Making a quick zip down it, the boys suddenly stopped. Both breathing heavily, the two were laughing.

"Let's not do that again," Finneas said, still gasping for air.

“You are scaredy-cat?” Kistoph smirked.

“No,” Finneas responded. “Just not stupid. We shouldn’t have done that. You know what they’re talking about?”

His friend shook his head. Neither of them knew what'd occurred. Neither boy cared. The only thing that mattered was the thrill of the rush. They mightn't have got any dirt on the mayor, besides that confusing conversion, but at least they had a story to tell. Other kids would dig that stuff up, Finneas kept telling him as if to justify his actions.

"We better get a move on," Finneas stated. "Before the matron realise we're late. I dread to think what punishment she'll think up next?"

The matron was cruel. The cane wasn't her thing. That was mainly used by men. The matron was far more twisted. Anything that'll embarrass them; that was her method. Finneas had seen fellow orphans made to wash the matron’s smelly old feet. Another time, a boy was forced to eat rotten food found deep within a rubbish tip. Worst of all, disobedient orphans were stripped to their underwear and forced to walk Angleum’s streets. The thought made Finneas shutter.

They continued walking down the alley. They made their way to one of the smaller roads, which stretched and bend like a river. Wandering down the street, Finneas could smell rotten fish. A merchant was trying to sell gone-off snapper. He wondered how the man could dare sell such gross stuff. He pondered whether the man actually sold any fish. The two boys quickly walked past the stall, attempting to make as much distance between them and the smell before they slowed down again.

Going down another alleyway, they arrived at the orphanage. Completely out of the way, no one would be the wiser of its existence. Orphans were the lowest of the low, best to be forgotten. They were expected to deal with whatever they were given.

“Home sweet home,” said Kistoph sarcastically, before breaking into a laugh. Finneas also began to laugh.

“Home is where the heart is, I suppose,” Finneas added, “If you can call it a home.”

As the two boys giggled, Finneas started feeling the presence of the person. A large figure appeared from behind them.

“What have we here?" the sinister voice said. With dread, the two boys turned around slowly. It was the matron. The women towered over them. Staring down at them, the large plump woman continued speaking, her voice booming so loud everyone nearby could hear her. "I didn't see you at dinner. Where were you?"

“The harbourmaster gave use some task,” Finneas thought up any excuse he could think of. “I’m sure if you ask him, he’ll vouch for us.”

Finneas had obviously just lied. He knew he was going to get in big trouble, whether then and there, or later on. The matron simply nodded her head.

“I’ll have to ask him,” she said. “Pray to the Maker you’re telling the truth. Because if you’re not…”

She didn't have to finish the sentence. Both boys knew what the consequence was. Seemingly satisfied that she'd scared the living daylight out of them, the matron turned around and walked back inside the orphanage. Before they could get in further trouble, Finneas and Kistoph followed.

They entered the orphanage's main room. Making sure the matron wouldn't harass them further, they wandered up a stairway and into a lounge area. Usually, the common room was full of kids, most likely trying to escape the matron's stare. Today, however, it was pretty empty. Finneas's younger brother, Kenelm, was sitting at a table, playing a game of cards with his friend Teller – Mollie’s twin brother.

Kenelm and Teller were two years younger than Finneas. Like his older brother, Kenelm had curly hair, although long and more unruly. Teller, on the other hand, and short brownish hair. Wearing dungarees, the boys were expected to sweep up in the factories. They would occasionally complain about their jobs. However, Kistoph would always remind them there could be worse jobs. He always told them they could easily be sent down the mines. Neither boy knew yet about the law that stopped stuff like that.

Kistoph approached the table. Realising they’d company, the two younger boys shot up. Both seemed panicky; as if trying to hide something.

“What do we have here?” Kistoph said, jokingly inspecting the table. "Illegal gambling, I assume." He was trying his best to sound as official as possible. He was smirking the entire time, which ruined the act somewhat. "Looks like we're going to have to arrest you, boys."

Just as Kistoph said that the two younger boys dashed away. Teller was much quicker, making his way downstairs. Kenelm wasn't as lucky. Grabbing hold of his overalls, the older boy was able to pull him back. Squeezing the boy in a hug, Kistoph held the younger boy captive. Kenelm tried to escape. It didn’t work. Kistoph was much stronger.

“Don’t hurt me,” Kenelm kept yelling.

“Not if you don’t say pretty please,” Kistoph chuckled.

“Please don’t!” Kenelm continued pleading.

A sudden noise from downstairs could be heard. It sounded as if someone had been harshly rammed against a wall. Kistoph quickly let go of Kenelm, who was still struggling to get out of the older boy's hold. Kistoph looked at Finneas. Both boys nodded, as if in agreement. Something was happening downstairs.

Finneas and Kistoph wandered down to the first floor, to investigate the noise. Teller had been knocked back by something. Finneas quickly checked his brother’s friend, kneeling to make sure he was alright. Teller opened his eyes. He looked somewhat dazed, as if not knowing what’d happened. Teller seemed alright. Whatever ever pushed him back was only going to give him a few bruises, nothing more.

“Finn!” Kistoph alerted his friend.

Standing up again, Finneas turned his attention to his friend. Kistoph was pointing at something. Finneas turned again. It was the same boy they’d seen talking to the mayor. Lucian? That’s what his name, wasn’t it, Finneas tried to recollect.

“You don’t belong here,” Kistoph warned.

Despite his jesting nature, his friend could be quite overprotective of his friends. Everyone knew not to pick a fight with him. This Lucian guy didn't get the memo, Finneas had realised.

“And you don’t belong outside Mayor Cameri’s house. You’ve been snooping, have you not?” Lucian said, trying to make his height a tool for intimidation. “It was you, was it not? Outside you’re mayor’s house?”

"It's none of your beeswaxes," Kistoph stood up. He wasn't a person to take a threat sitting down. "And you won't scare us?"

“Oh, but it is my business,” the other boy said, sounding smug. “And you should be scared. You’re meddling in things beyond your comprehension.”

Finneas wasn't sure what Lucian meant by comprehension, but he assumed it had something to do with not understanding something. He mightn't be fully aware of what was going on, but Finneas could tell something rotten was occurring. The mayor was hiding something, and Lucian knew exactly what it was. Finneas wanted to probe Lucian, but he decided it was best not to. He let Kistoph throw a taunt or two at the Sensor apprentice, hoping that’d deter Lucian away.

“Well… well… you don’t scare us.”

Lucian simply laughed.

“If I see you again,” the Sensor apprentice warned, “I won’t be as kind. You will feel my wrath.”

Lucian turned around and left the orphanage. Finneas thought about following Lucian but quickly decided against it. It seemed his friend also had the same thought. They returned their attention to Teller, who had managed to pull himself up again.

“He’s a wind taper,” Teller said. “He… he used his powers. Pushed me aside. He was, like… on the other side of the room.”

Finneas had a sudden feeling of guilt. Kistoph and he had put themselves into danger, spying on the mayor. At no point did he think his action would’ve affected someone else. He should’ve never put Teller in that danger. Finneas felt so stupid thinking this was all such a good idea.

“I need to fix this,” Finneas announced.

“Fix what?” Kistoph asked. “The boy left. He won’t hassle us anymore, I’m sure.”

“It’s not that,” Finneas clarified. “I think I know what the Order is looking for.”

“You’re going where I think you’re going?” Kistoph said. It was unusual for him to be cautious. He was usually the enthusiastic one, willing to jump feet first.

“Yeah,” Finneas answered. "You heard what they were saying. They're looking for a cave. You suppose it's that cave."

“Maybe…” Kistoph countered. “But it’s dark. And it’s getting late. Maybe tomorrow.”

“I don’t think I can wait till tomorrow.”

No one was talking Finneas out of this. Not even the matron. Despite Kistoph's protest, Finneas approached the orphanage's entrance. He briefly thought about turning back. But by the time he'd turned the doorknob, he decided what he had to do.

“Look after my brother,” Finneas instructed. “I be back soonish… I promise.”

With that, he left.