The following morning, I woke up to a world bathed in the soft light of dawn. The events of the previous night still weighed heavily on my mind, but I pushed them aside, determined to focus on the tasks of the day. I got dressed and made my way downstairs, my thoughts a jumbled mess of questions and uncertainties.

With a sense of unease still lingering in the air, I had spent most of the night tossing and turning. The cryptic conversation, the intrusion into my room, and the enigmatic motives behind it all haunted my thoughts.

As I made my way to The Den, I couldn't help but glance around, half-expecting to see a familiar face watching me from the shadows. The city seemed to carry an air of secrecy, each passerby potentially concealing hidden intentions.

When I stepped into The Den, I was met with the usual organized chaos. Darius was already busy, sorting through a stack of papers, Jean at the front desk, engrossed in the newspaper. I greeted him with a nod and made my way to my desk, my thoughts still preoccupied with the events of the night.

After a quick check of the task board, it seemed that most field assignments were already covered. Darius was busy coordinating resources and responding to various requests, leaving me with a temporary lull in my duties.

With the desire to clear my mind and channel my energy into something productive, I decided to head to the shooting range. It had been a while since I had practised my marksmanship, and the rhythmic process of aiming and firing could provide a much-needed distraction.

As I entered the shooting range, the familiar smell of gunpowder filled the air. The space was relatively empty, and I picked a spot at the far end. The targets lined up in front of me, their circular centres calling out to be punctured by precise shots.

I pulled out my revolver, the cold metal familiar in my grip. The weight of it felt comforting, a connection to a world that was tangible and real. As I fired my first shot, the recoil jolted through my hand, the sound of the gunshot echoing in the enclosed space.

With each shot, I could feel the muscle fibres in my body working, responding to the repetitive action. It was as if my body was adjusting and adapting to the demands of the exercise. Was this a side effect of my newfound abilities as an arcanist, or was it something else entirely?

My mind wandered as I fired shot after shot, lost in the rhythm of the practice. The world outside the range faded away, leaving only the echoing reports of gunfire and the satisfaction of hitting my mark.

An hour passed, the repetitive motion gradually easing the tension that had built up inside me. With a final shot, I emptied the last round in my revolver, the click of the hammer signalling the end of the session. I holstered the gun and took a deep breath, the scent of gunpowder and the feeling of exertion hanging in the air.

As I made my way back to The Den, a sense of calm had settled over me. The practice had been therapeutic, a physical outlet for the pent-up emotions and thoughts that had been swirling in my mind.

However, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Caius was stepping out of Darius's office, his expression unreadable.

I stopped in my tracks, stunned by the sight. Caius and I had clashed just a few days ago, our argument leaving me with the impression that Caius wanted nothing to do with arcanists in the slightest. And yet, here he was, leaving Darius's office in such a place that had everything to do with arcanists. My curiosity got the better of me, and I approached him.

"Caius?" I called out, my voice tinged with surprise.

Caius turned to face me, his gaze steady but guarded. "Elias," he acknowledged with a nod.

"I thought you didn't want anything to do with arcanists or this place," I said, my confusion evident in my tone. "Why are you here now?"

Caius's lips tightened, and his eyes held a distant look. "A lot can change in a day," he replied, his voice even.

I wasn't satisfied with his vague answer. "You were so adamant about me not getting involved in this world, and yet you're standing here as if none of that matters?"

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he might just walk away without giving me a straight answer. But then, he sighed, a mix of frustration and resignation in his eyes.

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Fleur was nearby, observing the conversation. She approached us, her expression concerned. "Elias, let's not do this," she said, her tone gentle but firm.

I shook my head, my frustration bubbling over. "No, I need to know," I insisted, turning back to Caius. "Why the sudden change? What are you protecting?"

"Elias, you have no idea the kind of choices I've had to make. The things I’ve had to go through," he said, his voice a touch harsh. "There are people and things I must protect."

I took a hefty step towards him, “And that gives you the right to give your opinionate me?”

Caius's gaze swept up and bore into mine, and a storm played across his features. Then, he seemed to come to a decision, and he began to speak, his words flowing out in an uninterrupted monologue.

"You want to know, Elias? Fine. There are people I must protect from harm, and to do that, I've had to do things I'd never choose to do before. I've been forced with decisions from the marrow of my being, not because I wanted to, but because I had to. For the sake of what I believe is right.”

I took a step back as Caius continued to respond.

“The news of the orphans, the lifeless bodies at the Theatre, shattered me. They were my friends, my family—bound by shared dreams and hopes for a brighter Leode.

The weight of that loss broke me, Elias. It truly showed me that I couldn't take on this city with mere stubborn pride and unyielding happiness. If I truly yearned to confront those who'd take all I hold dear, then I would have to unshackle myself from my own ego. I have to take a path I detest, yet one that offers the power to change things.

Not the power of an Arcanist, a world I reject. Instead, I chose another route—to become a bounty hunter. To wield influence against the wrongs that plague this city. To protect my friends and bring a semblance of justice to Leode."

Fleur reached out a hand to Caius's arm, her expression sympathetic. "Caius, you don't have to explain yourself to him," she said softly.

But Caius shook his head, his eyes still locked onto mine. "No, Fleur. He deserves to know.”

I remained silent, taking in his words. There was pain in his eyes, a pain that mirrored my own in some ways. "I'm, just trying to seek answers," he replied replied, his voice much softer than before.

My expression softened too, and for a moment, it felt as though a shared understanding passed between us. "Then, I guess we're not so different," I said quietly.

With those words, Caius turned to leave with Darius, leaving me to reflect on our conversation. The weight of their experiences and choices lingered in the air, a reminder that we were all navigating a complex world with our own reasons and motivations. Who was I to judge such change in someone else when I hardly knew them?

As the echoes of their footsteps faded, I found myself pondering the journey ahead. The world of arcanists, mysteries, supernatural forces, and the intricacies of Leode awaited. I was determined to uncover the truths that lay hidden beneath the surface and nothing was going to stop me.

Fleur approached me, her gaze lingering on my face. I could see the concern in her eyes, a glimmer of empathy that I wasn't used to receiving.

"Elias, are you okay?" she asked gently, her voice soft.

I shrugged her hand off, my guard rising once again. "I'm fine," I retorted curtly.

Fleur's brows furrowed, clearly taken aback by my response. "You don't have to be so defensive," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of hurt.

I sighed, my frustration warring with my better judgment. "Look, Fleur.” It seemed like she meant well. But how could I really know that? “Nevermind.”

Fleur's expression softened, and I could see the hurt in her eyes. She nodded slowly, seeming to understand. "Alright, Elias. I won't push. But remember, we're a team here. We look out for each other."

I nodded in acknowledgment, even though a part of me resisted the idea of relying on others. Friendship had never been a priority for me. It was merely a means to an end—a way to achieve my goals and gather information. I had seen it in Caius's eyes earlier, the pragmatism of using companions as tools to achieve an objective.

As Fleur walked away, I watched her retreating figure for a moment before turning my gaze elsewhere. I couldn't help but reflect on the conversation I had just witnessed. Caius's words struck a chord within me, reminding me of the harsh realities of people.

With a heavy sigh, I made my way towards the chemistry room. It was a place of solitude, a sanctuary where I could escape the complexities of human interactions and focus on something concrete—the study of materials and their arcane properties.

The hours ticked away as I continued my work at The Den. Hours slipped by as I continued to delve into the world of arcanists, absorbing knowledge about the various materials, objects, and powders that were used for rituals and practices. Each piece of information added another layer of knowledge that I could add to my arsenal.

As the afternoon sun cast a warm glow across the room, I couldn't help but think back to my conversation with Caius. "I'm just trying to seek answers." I understood that sentiment all too well. We were both seeking to understand the mysteries that surrounded each of us, to find our own paths in a world that seemed full of secrets and enigmas.

With my tasks for the day completed and my mind still swirling with thoughts, I decided it was time to step out of The Den and make my way over to the library.

It was a place of solace and comfort, a sanctuary of knowledge that might hold some answers to countless questions. Well, I could only hope what I was looking for was here.