As he pondered, she studied him closely.

She had observed his light blue eyes before, but now, in the dim light, they appeared darker.

His disheveled dark hair needed a trim.

A deep furrow etched between his brows, intensifying his solemn demeanor.

He looked almost like someone had chased him from the Grand Library of Tusa.

Serene on the surface, yet tempestuous within.

He was an open book, albeit a guarded one. Was curious to know more.

Lantera shrugged. "I can't make you do anything. But I think you'll want to help us once you hear what we're up against."

Aiden raised an eyebrow. At least he tortures her a little bit. "What are you up against?"

Lantera leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "In general? The darkness. It's coming. I am serious. And we need all the help we can get."

Aiden scoffed. "That's ridiculous. How could a small group of… over-motivated enthusiasts fight something that nearly destroyed the entire country and magic itself?"

Lantera shook her head. "You're really stubborn. You have something few people have but refuse to fight for! Okay. Whatever. I'm offering you the opportunity to be part of a group that wants to fight for the future. Your future, too. If you don't want to, it's your choice."

Aiden stared at her for a long moment, weighing his options. Then, finally, he let out a sigh.

By the gods, she is so convincing.

But how can she understand?

He wanted it but was not sure about this enormous responsibility. People rely on magic. And he is not the best of the mages, remember, lady?

But that vengeful part of himself, buried deep-deep down, had already decided.

"Fine," he said. "I'll hear you out. But I'm not making any promises."

Lantera grinned triumphantly. "That's all we ask. Meet us tomorrow at dawn. We'll be waiting for you."

"And what about those two names on that paper?" Asked Aiden.

"Just say Lantera and Melog to the tavern-keeper in The Full Pot."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

She rose from the table and disappeared into the crowded tavern.

Aiden sat alone, lost in thought.

He wasn't sure what he was getting himself into.

But somehow, a grin played on his face.

Ooh, he's going to have his hands full.

***

In the aftermath of his decision, Aiden sought the solace of slumber.

A modest bed beckoned him from within the chill chamber.

Unheralded, a silhouette emerged from the penumbra. Swift and silent, it lunged at him with a gleaming dagger.

Aiden grabs a blade from the recesses of his belt. He ducked low.

His counterstrike found purchase only on the fabric of his assailant's trousers.

Undeterred, the shadowy figure renewed its assault, the dagger's edge biting through Aiden's shirt and carving a long gash across his chest.

Stubbornly, he refrained from summoning his powers.

As the struggle intensified, Aiden found it increasingly difficult to parry the relentless thrusts of his attacker.

He recognized the futility of further secrecy, as it was clear that his magic nature had already been laid bare.

With a flourish, Aiden unleashed a torrent of sorcery.

Sensing the tide turning, his attacker redoubled their efforts, lunging with ferocious intent.

Empowered by his arcane might, Aiden danced around the frenzied strikes, landing a series of brutal counterblows that left his foe reeling.

However, before he could extract any answers, the mysterious assailant leaped through the window and vanished into the night.

Aiden heard the muted thump of the body's impact with the ground below, but when he directed a cascade of crackling luminescence into the dark down there, the assassin had already slipped away.

Aiden stared at the empty space where the attacker had vanished, his heart still racing from the adrenaline of the skirmish.

The cold air seeped through the broken window only served to heighten his senses, reminding him of the danger lurking in the shadows.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, attempting to calm his frayed nerves.

There was no time to waste; he had to tend to his injuries and prepare for the meeting with Lantera and her group at dawn.

Aiden rummaged through his belongings, searching for a potion to mend his wounds.

The glass vial contained a brown elixir that sparkled even in the dim light of his chamber.

As he carefully applied the potion to his gashed chest, a soothing warmth enveloped the wound, and he watched as his skin slowly knit itself back together.

For now, he would proceed with caution. Aiden would hear Lantera's group out, learn as much as possible about the darkness, and assess the risks before committing himself fully.

He needs to know what that darkness is. It is always someone, not something.

With someone, is it possible to fight but with something? Not too much.

His resolve renewed, and Aiden tidied the disarray in his room, securing the broken window with a makeshift barricade.

He couldn't shake the feeling that the night's events were merely the beginning, that the darkness Lantera had spoken of was a harbinger of far greater challenges.

He weaved a protective web of magical fibers across the room's walls, ensuring no surprises would disrupt his nighttime rest.

With a heavy sigh, Aiden climbed into his modest bed, his body aching from the earlier confrontation.