When we arrived at the tavern called Heaven's Gate I realized I had never been there before.

Mara acted as if we came here often and, superficially, my memories seemed to agree. But the details were indistinct, and as Mara, Caedius, and I walked there I recognized none of the surrounding area. The young gentleman at the door greeted us. He looked confused when I tried to pay him with a silver denarii, saying there was no charge to enter. Feeling awkward and unsure why I did that, I told him to consider it a tip.

"Feeling generous?" said Caedius. "That could have paid for our entire night."

I shrugged. "Fine, I'll pay for our drinks."

Satisfied, Caedius led us to an empty table. The place attracted a decent crowd, folk in tasteful clothing, mostly gathered in groups that talked amongst themselves. The interior had a cozy feel, warm from the blazing hearth. No guards anywhere. I knew with certainty I had never come here before.

Our attendant was a young woman with a ponytail who introduced herself as Eres. "Mara, Caedius, a pleasure to see you both again. I see you've brought a friend?"

Mara frowned. "You know Leones."

Eres smiled uncertainly. "Sorry, I must not have the best memory. Excuse me, Leones. What can you get for you?"

We each ordered our drinks. After the attendant departed Mara crossed her arms. "She was our server two weeks ago. How does she not remember?"

"I don't remember this place either," I said.

The other two stared at me. Hiding the truth from them would accomplish nothing. Something different seemed wrong. The new acolyte had not appeared all day. Best to figure out as much as possible and reverse this conversation from every happening.

"Has anything seemed wrong to you recently, Caedius?" I said. "Especially in the last day?"

The big man rubbed the stubble along his jaw. His eyes flicked over to where Mara sat. "Not in particular."

"Any false memories?"

"No? Not that I can tell."

Mara shook her head. "You think we have false memories? There could be a hundred other reasons for this."

"Demonic magic is not the same as the magic we humans use," I said. "The Archons have powers over elements and the like. Demons have some method of altering reality itself."

We lapsed into the silence as the attendant returned with our drinks. She gave me a long, uncertain look before retreating from our table. Mara kept glancing over my shoulder like some sort of nervous tic.

"I'm still not even sure what's wrong," said Caedius.

"I was arguing with Irele earlier," said Mara. "There are some new belongings in the barracks that I don't recognize. She says they've been there for weeks now. Leones agrees with me. Now Leones says that he doesn't recognize this place when I'm certain we've been coming here for a while. It doesn't make sense."

When she finished speaking I noticed most of the tavern had lapsed into silence. This time, when Mara looked over my shoulder, her gaze remained there. Resting my hand on the hilt of my sword, I turned to the front door.

At the entrance was a person I had not seen in almost a year. A middle-aged man in the white robes of the Magistrate. A pair of soldiers flanked him on either side. The one on the left had a haggard face shrouded with stubble and beady eyes. Their faces came to mind more easily than my mother's; I often remembered them during my training sessions, in those moments my mind screamed at me to rest for just a few minutes.

"In the name of Archon Nony," said the Magister, "we are here to apprehend the fugitive known as Leones Ansteri."

His voice set my heart racing in my chest. This isn't fear, I told myself. This is excitement. Opportunity. After all those daydreams they were the ones who came to me in the end.

My vision darkened at the corners. I leapt out of my chair so fast I sent it clattered behind me. A rapid dash carried me forward---suicidal in an open field, but my bet was that the Magister would not be willing to throw flame magic about in a crowded tavern. And if he did, my power was flaring in the back of my mind. Fire wouldn't kill me immediately. It would just be excruciating.

The Magister fell behind his two guards, who drew their blades and, side-by-side, met me in the middle. People began to shout as my sword clashed with one of the guard's; I was probably one of them. The jarring impact of our blades distracted from me as the dead-eyed guard circled around to my side, coming at me from another direction.

Deep breaths. Don't let the bloodlust take over. Remember the legato. Fluid movements. I intercepted each blow that came to me, a frantic dance that drove me backwards, sword sweeping in wide arcs. Between the two of them there was no opening to switch to the offensive. Be mindful of surroundings, I told myself, like you learned when sparring with...who?

The break in my thoughts caused me to stumble. One of the tavern patrons mustered up the nerve to come from behind and shove me, sending me flying into a nearby table. A woman screamed as I rolled across her meal of pheasant and wine. Somehow twisted in the tablecloth, I brought the table down with me as I tumbled across the other side. That barrier saved my life as the Magister ignited a conflagration right next to me, an expanding ball of flame that swallowed the woman and billowed out over my head. Her screaming turned into a high-pitched shriek.

I flexed my magic, reversing time thirty minutes.

That brought me back to the moment before we departed from the barracks that evening. The three of us were still within eyesight of the barracks. Going back an entire hour had been tempting but I conserving my energy would be necessary to survive this night.

I took a few moments to steady my voice against the bloodlust surging through my body.

"I'm actually starting to get a nasty headache," I said, mostly keeping it together. " I think I'm just going to sleep early tonight."

Mara pouted. "Come on. We have a surprise for you there!"

That made me pause. My heart still raged in my chest. Drymouthed, hands shaking, I unsheathed my sword and pointed it at Caedius.

He held out his hands, bewildered. "Calm down. You don't know what you're doing."

"A surprise waiting for me?" I said. "Like a Magister? Tell me what's happening or I'll kill both of you."

I doubted I could have followed through with the threat, but they valued their lives too much to take that chance. Tears glistened at the corner of Mara's eyes. They only enraged me further.

"You're a criminal," she said. "You're endangering all of our lives by being here. Some men approached Caedius when he was staying at his aunt's manor and started asking him about you. About when you came here. What you call yourself. What you've told us. How could you do this?"

"I did it to survive," I said, backing away and keeping the sword pointed at Caedius. There was a dangerous look on his face, like he was considering a bad idea.

"So did we," he said.

I reversed time again before the situation turned ugly.

* * *

Mara pouted. "Come on. We have a surprise for you there!"

"No," I said. "I think I'm turning in early for the night."

"We'll stay then," said Caedius.

"Dont be bothered on my account. Go."

To my relief they listened and left together. I waited in the barracks for a minute until they were out of sight. Lakken's home was a brief run away; my energized body ate up the distance in no time. A candle guttered in the window of his reading room.

His caretaker Elys answered the door, scolding me for my frantic knocking. She invited me inside, leading me to where the old man laid in bed, his eyes half-open.

"What brings you barging in here so late at night?" said Lakken.

"You heard about what happened last night at the Amphitheater?" I said. "Ever since then everything has seemed wrong. I woke up outside of the barracks in the middle of the night as if I had been sleepwalking. Then..."

The old man listened patiently while I explained. When I finished he gestured for Elys to help him to the side of the bed. For a moment my panic subsided as I worried for the old man's health. Ever since the snow started he had become increasingly frail. A few months ago he would not have needed Elys to help swing his legs off his bed and hoist him into a sitting position with the support of both hands.

"Most accurate accounts of demon magic are scoured from the records," he said. "Foolish, to hide your enemy's tricks for them, but the Archons fear revealing the whole truth. Instead they teach us not to make deals with demons and other ways to avoid falling victim. If you think this through and consider the lesson behind the story of Arostara, eventually you would discover the truth for yourself."

I said nothing, though I wished he would get to the point.

Lakken took a deep, steadying breath. "The Goetia are masters of karma. It's an innate magical gift among their kind. Karma is a delicate thing, difficult to explain succintly. It encompasses a variety of esoteric connections. Oaths, promises, destiny, and the like. In a sense it makes them far more honorable than mankind, as they are incapable of uttering lies. They will dance around the truth instead. They are far greater masters of the staccato than any mortal."

"I don't understand the connection to Arostara."

"Consider what you know about Odena. Something like this would never happen within most of the other Great Cities. All sorts of pagans congregate here. The traditional morals and adherence to religion that protect us against the Goetia are not observed as strictly. That freedom allows the Goetia to corrupt the hearts of men."

I froze in place. If this city was like Arostara, I needed to get as far from here as possible. After Lakken told me as much as possible.

If Mara and Caedius headed straight toward the guards, they would still have to find the Magisters and inform them that I had canceled my plans with the other acolytes. Using another ten minutes worth of magic would be the limit. That left me five minutes to figure out as much as possible.

Then Elys kneeled besides her grandfather and whispered in his ear. The old man looked like he wanted to argue until she rested a hand on his shoulder and shook her head.

"You being here is too dangerous," she said. "For your safety and ours, please leave."

"You should both get out of the city," I said.

Lakken grunted. "We shall consider it."

For a moment I considered pressing the issue. Then, with a small nod, I stood and cast one last glance around his home. To the library of forbidden knowledge, much of it about the Goetia themselves. Lakken would know much that be of assistance, but the fact he had such knowledge was a warning in the first place. I chose not to reverse time on that particular conversation. There was some infinitesmal chance they would heed my warning.

When I left his home I set off into the city at a sprint. The few times I almost slipped along ice, I would reverse time a few seconds and correct my movements. All that training came in handy in the most random circumstances.

My internal clock measured the precise passage of time. My safehouse was less than a mile away from the Garden. Slowed by the ice-slick ground, I wasted seven minutes getting there. A few more seconds fumbling at my key to open the door.

The safehouse was a single room. Several packs along the closest wall contained an assortment of necessary supplies. At minimum they held a week of dry rations, a pouch containing ten golden solareum, a large canteen, and several pairs of clothing including gloves and a woolen cap.

At the back of the room was the real reason I came here. My weapon trove consisted of several swords inferior to the Bakkel at my side, a spear, a selection of knives, and, most importantly, a crossbow. I selected the last weapon and its quiver. Cranking the windlass ate up another seventy seconds of my time but testing the weapon now would save me some potential trouble later. I fired a bolt into a nearby wall and it punched through with the satisfying thump. The weapon was supposed to make short work even of plate armor.

I reloaded the weapon again. The crossbow was a hassle and in a fight I would realistically only be able to fire once, but with my magic that one bolt would be enough.

Ignoring the urge to flee the city immediately, I returned toward the Gardens. If any bystanders thought much of a teenager with a heavy satchel over one shoulder, a crossbow, and a sword at his side, they kept their comments to themselves.

When I came to Brother Augur's arboretum I sighed, wishing the man was around. Selfish of me to want company when even my own father said anyone who assisted me would suffer as well. I sat with my back against the thickest of the trees, at an angle where the shadows hid my presence but I could still make out the path leading deeper into the Gardens.

After thirty minutes I suspected they would not be coming to the Gardens tonight. I almost stood up and left before I heard muffled voices in the distance. Pressing myself closer against the tree, I aimed the crossbow at the empty path within my line of sight.

The voices stopped. Resisting the temptation to look around the tree trunk, I waited a for seconds, hand steady. The Magister walked past, flanked by his two guards. The dead-eyed man on the other side of him held a torch that cast flickering shadows across them.

Not an easy shot even if I had any actual experience with a crossbow. There was only a short window for me to make the shot as well. I reached for my power.

The first bolt missed entirely.

The second clipped the closest guard in the thigh.

The third punched through the dead-eyed man's neck. I waited a few seconds to reverse that one, savoring their panic and the evil bastard pawing at his mangled throat.

The fourth one missed entirely.

The fifth time I cleared my mind and waited until they almost disappeared from sight. This angle gave me the best view of the Magister's back. The fifth bolt blew through his chest. If not his heart, a lung. The man fell to his knees while the guards shouted and grabbed at him.

The dead-eyed man pointed my way. Slipping around the other side of the wide trunk, I tossed the crossbow aside and unsheathed my sword. Their footsteps crunched in the snow as they approached.

I came at them from an unexpected angle. The dead-eyed man managed to parry my swing but the force of it sent him stumbling into his companion. Both fell in a tangle of limbs. But these were the personal guards of a Magister, a grade above most others. With coordinated precision they came back to their feet.

The first to recover was the other guard, a pock-faced man with short brown hair. Snarling, he leveled a devastating swing towards my throat. I deflected it at the last moment, trying to get my breathing under control. The next attacks were almost predictable, something even a novice could see through. Now that I knew I could match blades with him, I resisted the mad urge to smile.

He was off-balance for only a moment. It was enough. Using a move from the beginning of the second legato, I propelled myself into a quick leap, no more than a twitch of my calves, blade whipping out sideways. I was so prepared to reverse time and attempt the move again that I nearly lost grip of my sword when it connected. The blade sank deep into the guard's shoulder.

He stumbled away, shouting. Yet again the guards got in each other's way.

Deep breath. Don't let him get away.

With only the briefest resistance as steel met bone, my next slash sheared the lower half of his jaw from his face. He collapsed, screams mangled through the ruin of his face.

One against one, his Magister and the other guard dead or close enough, the remaining bastard stood no chance. In normal circumstances he was stronger than me, taller, more experienced, but he was terrified. He knew I was their target but to him it would seem as if a demon hunted them in the night. He grossly overestimated me, and that's all I needed.

For a minute I defended against his savage assault. If Avarus had not taught me the proper way to hold a sword, the first blow would have knocked it from my hands. His panic gave him strength but it also disrupted his breathing, and as I turned aside each strike, the terror began to wear away at him. There was almost a look of surrender on his face when he relented, so exhausted he could barely keep his sword held up.

I skewered him through the heart with a single thrust. The bastard bled all over my boots.

The Magister was crawling away, leaving behind a trail of crimson. He wheezed, blood bubbling at his lips in a pink froth. I planted my foot on his head and rested my sword against the base of his skull. Both hands clasped on the pommel, I thrust downward. He stopped moving.

Pain screaming between my ears, having just survived a fight for my life, I fell onto my ass. And that's when I remembered.

My friend Felix.

The establishment named Amelie in Yellow.

Jokul stabbing me, barely surviving.

Using my sword as a cane, I heaved myself to my feet. The smart thing to do would be to leave the city. Make it out of here as fast as I can. Nowadays few people strolled these paths at night. No one would probably discover these bodies. It would probably be Mara and Caedius when they returned to discover what they had wrought.

The pock-faced man was still alive for now, and could probably find some help. Best to finish him off. I did not recognize him as part of the soldiers who burned down my family manor. Did this man deserve to die just because he happened to guard this particular Magister? But I had already made my decision on what to do. If I spared him it would be nothing but trouble for me. Hand trembling, I rested the tip of my sword against his neck. He spasmed at the touch of the sword, eyes opening, trying to speak through his ruined mouth.

I finished him.

With shaky knees I walked over to gather my pack before continuing along the path. Towards Amelie in Yellow, and hopefully some answers.