I had expected a warm reunion, a tender moment reunited with a family that took me in out of the kindness of their heart. I expected to spit out a slurry of apologies for uprooting their lives but thanking them for having the strength to make it regardless. I was unable to have that moment.

Instead, our group came upon the shop for Hood's Parcels razed and vandalized. The windows of the shop were shattered. Scorch marks seared the base of the shop where someone had set it alight, but someone had quickly quelled the fire. Inside against the wall behind the counter in thick red paint, at least I hope it was paint, someone scrawled the phrase 'He stole our Sun.'

"Mercy," Nev said, putting their hand on my shoulder to comfort me.

"So much for a safe place," Gemma joked but paused after receiving a scowl from Bert. "Sorry, I'll wait outside."

"I think they're safe, Mercy," Bert offered. "We just have to find them."

I nodded, unsure but continued searching their house for any signs of Deanne and her family's fate.

Whoever was responsible destroyed the main floor of the shop. Furniture shattered, parcels torn to shreds or stolen, and unkind words splattered against most of the walls. The upstairs was somewhat better but still left in a tattered state.

Most of the rooms upstairs were designed for living, but eviscerated bedding left feathers and fluff thrown about haphazardly. What I assumed they intended as my room had spools of thread and rungs of fabric covered in paint and cut apart to prevent use. There was only one room upstairs, rid of any wreckage, an empty space free from dust as if someone had recently moved their things out.

"Hey, stop!" Gemma shouted from outside.

As I looked out the window of this empty room, I could see a cloaked figure bound from an adjacent rooftop away from the husk of Hood's Parcels.

"He was on the roof watching us!" Gemma shouted to us from below.

"Leif, follow him!" Berthold ordered.

Leif ran toward the window, pulling hard from his baseball bat-sized cigar, exhaling as he dropped. The plume moved to catch his feet and carried him up and over the cliffside buildings. We followed on foot, heading out of the dilapidated building and following the trail of smoke left behind by our teammate. The path led to the outskirts of town to a small abandoned shack.

"Like, this is it," Leif said, descending to the ground to meet us.

"Mercy, Nev, you watch the front. Gemma and I will take the back." Berthold said.

"And me?" Leif asked.

Berthold gestured to the top of the shack where an inactive small metal pipe from a furnace shot out of the roof. "You smoke them out."

It only took a moment before the stranger noticed, and a young voice called out, "Fire!" followed by a breaking of wood and glass on the backside of the building.

"Stay where you are," Bert advised on the other side of the building.

"Give me back my sister, you scumbag!" The young voice called back.

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Before we could turn the corner, I recognized the stranger's voice.

"Relax, Bert, he's a friend," I said, rounding to the backside of the building.

It had been almost a year since I'd seen him last. The look of boyish wonder had been replaced with a hardened gaze. Soot stains dotted a cowl and tunic worn but patched with care. An aggressive glare shifted to a look of recognition as his eyes moved from Berthold to me.

"Mersault?" He asked in disbelief.

I nodded in response, and he rushed in my direction, burying his head into my chest and wrapping his arms around my back. My shirt quickly became damp from his tears, but I wrapped my arms around him as well. Colter may have been hardened by circumstance, but he was still a child.

After Colter calmed down, he invited us into his new home. Home was a generous term as it consisted of a single room with doors at the front and back. Two bundles of cloth lay in one corner of the room, offering a minor reprieve from the cold stone floor below. The cots sat beside a small furnace, still smoking from Leif earlier.

"Where's Deanne?" I asked Colter after waiting for him to calm down.

He nodded his head solemnly.

"When?" I asked, understanding his response.

"Gran passed about two months back. The Healer said there was too much fluid in her lungs. They helped her a couple of times, but Gran said it was her time to go."

"And Katherine?"

"She left to start another shop in Liveston right before Gran's passing. We wrote to her too, but she hasn't come back yet." Colter replied.

"What about your sister? Where's Jessica?"

Crocodile tears welled in Colter's eyes as he shook his head.

"Colter, buddy," I said, resting my hand on his shoulder. "Where's your sister?"

"They took her not long after Gran passed," he managed between panicked breaths. "I tried to stop them but wasn't strong enough."

I wrapped my arm around Colter again as he calmed down. "Who took her, Colter?"

"I'm sorry, they were just so strong," he replied.

"Colter, who are they?"

"They work for the school. Disciples of Unbat. I'm so sorry."

I noticed Berthold and Nev flinch at the mention of Unbat and suddenly remembered the Numina and the power He holds. Known as the Numen of Thaumaturgy, Unbat disregarded any source of strength outside of using the arcane. His followers tracked Him from city to city as he learned of new resources to exploit or a person born with rare magical features. He held enough power that before its fall, the town of Dulcrois would regularly make dealings with the Numina to either gain favor or avoid His ire.

"Colter," I said, bracing the boy's shoulders. "We'll save your sister."

"You will?" Colter replied through a snot-filled nose.

"Mercy, can we talk outside for a second?" Berthold asked.

I nodded in response, and he waved at Nev to follow as we headed out.

"You need to not be an idiot about this," Berthold advised, having dropped his feigned composure inside the house.

"I'm not going to let that little girl suffer because I wasn't here to help them," I replied.

"I agree," Nev chimed in. "We should help."

"Same boat, not trying to let a little girl suffer," Berthold corrected. "You just can't go in collapsing walls trying to be some savior. We have a hard time escaping Aramaz; in many ways, Unbat is far more dangerous. They're both greedy, but Unbat will sacrifice more to get what he wants."

"So your plan is, what exactly?" I asked.

"No plan, yet. We need information on the city, where things are, scheduled arrivals, and guard shifts. I'm willing to help, but if we don't do it correctly, you're endangering us, especially Colter."

"Did it seem like I was about to do something crazy?" I asked.

"You get a look in your eye," Nev answered. "It's not a bad thing. I think it helps you focus. It's good to have people who can talk you down from the ledge."

"Fine," I replied. "We'll make a plan to get information, then see how we should proceed."

When we entered the room, Colter bawled again and rushed me on reentry.

"Why didn't you get here sooner? Gran sent the letter nine months ago. Why did you wait so long?" He pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Colter. I should have been there for yo-" I replied, getting cut off by Berthold.

"Did you say nine months?" Bert asked as Colter nodded in response. "Was this the letter your Gran sent?"

Colter examined the letter handed to us about a month prior.

"No," he replied after a moment of studying. "Gran had a seal, a sewing needle over a star. Gran didn't write this."