Rane saw his mother die. She had been screaming and struggling to escape her assailant when the blade tore through her chest. Now she simply dangled from it, motionless, arms hanging limply by her sides. The man curved the sword and her body slid down. The bloody visage that once was his mother dropped next to him, her body curved and stiff.

Rane was just as rigid due to his mother’s spell. He had been forced to watch her all the while, unable to move or cry. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the murderer dropping to his knees.

“I’m sorry,” the man whispered. “Through your sacrifice, I will succeed.”

The man turned towards him, his face a blur of shadows and fog, except for his bright glowing eyes. His glowing, silver eyes.

An ominous crackling startled Rane out of his nightmare. His heart pounded against his chest and he was drenched in cold sweat. What had he seen? He tried to engrave the dream in his mind, yet the details had already begun to fade. He tried to convince himself it was only a dream, and not a memory. It had to be.

“Nightmares again?” Linde handed him some water.

“Yeah…” Rane set the glass beside him. He rubbed the sides of his head and lied back down. There was something almost hypnotic about the way the rain slid down the roof of the wagon as it moved. It relaxed him, even if it meant he couldn't practice using the birds a lot. They were fragile, Linde had said, so he kept them hidden under his bed.

They had been travelling through rain and snow for a solid month. Avrid blamed the weather for the delay, but said they had left the worst behind them. They should be nearing the capital soon.

“You’re a heavy sleeper, aren’t you?” Linde leaned on the wood that separated the front end of the wagon from the coachman’s seat.

“Sleeping any less in a bed this soft would be criminal.” Rane stood up from the mattress and rubbed his head. “Where are we?”

“Look for yourself.” Linde wiped the window with her sleeve.

Rane almost shot up. He neared the window and gazed at the vast plains outside. Through the rain, he saw intricate machines shaped like humans and giant floating orbs roaming the croplands. The movement of the contraptions was so lifelike, that he had mistaken them for humans at first. He took his time observing, tried to count how many individual pieces moved and turned with every step. His eyes drifted, and he caught a glimpse of walls in the distance, their white scratching the sky. “Is this Silyra?”

Linde stifled a laugh. “A relatively new part of it. The prospect of war pushed the king to find a way to make Silyra self-sufficient in every way. This is what they came up with. The crops grown here are transferred inland, to feed the city’s population.”

“Amazing.” Rane followed the faint outline of the walls with his eyes until they faded in the darkness. Their sheer size shocked him.

“Wait until you see the inner city.” Linde smiled and toyed with her hair. “We have been working tirelessly on expanding the capital, whether that be outward, upward or even downward.”

“Who’s we?”

That earned him a glance of disapproval. “The Nost, of course. Most in the family are weavers. I’m guessing you don’t know what that is.”

Rane shook his head and Linde sighed. “Weavers are mages capable of shaping matter and giving it new properties. That’s why the king has tasked us with renovating the capital, turning decrepit slums into grand halls, one layer of stonework at a time.”

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

Linde chuckled and sat on the bed beside him. “You have no idea. Even in the face of war, there’s a growing demand for grander, more complicated architecture.”

“And what business does a family of weavers have with me?”

“That is my father’s business,” Linde said, growing solemn. “Be a bit patient.”

Rane snorted and went back to gazing outside the window. He had been patient long enough. It was time for answers. The horses trotted without break. Avrid probably wanted to make up for some of the lost time. By the time the day broke, the walls of the inner city that weren’t even visible the night before towered over them. He had to strain his neck to look up towards the city’s tallest building. What would warrant a tower this massive?

The horses stopped with a neigh and Rane heard mumbling from outside. Linde motioned for him to stay silent. “Order me to get off and talk,” she whispered.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“It’s the city guard,” Linde hissed. “And if you delay any more they’re going to discover you.”

“Go then,” Rane said. “Then get back inside once they’re gone.”

Linde nodded and exited through the back of the wagon. Rane placed an ear to the thin wood.

"–mage of the Nost family. I was on an important assignment on behalf of the crown, and I demand that you let us pass without delay."

Even though Linde's voice reached him muffled, he could tell she was assertive.

“Please show us your house’s emblem.” That voice seemed further away, and he could barely hear it. There was a brief silence, and Linde returned inside the wagon. The horses began trotting again.

“I thought you had given your emblem to Loric,” Rane said.

“I did. I used poor, departed Anne’s instead,” Linde replied with half a smile. “It’s one of the few things that survived. We make them durable to know who died in case the battle gets… heated.”

Mentioning what had happened soured him, made him think back. She knew that fact, and yet she did it anyway. He was tempted to order her to slap herself, but he refrained. “Why did you want to hide my existence?”

“Because otherwise we wouldn’t be allowed through. Not quickly anyway. The outer wall is one thing, but not just anyone can enter Silyra. Weapons are confiscated and the magic potency of those visiting for the first time are tested. If we followed the proper procedure, it would take days.”

“And you have a mission, don’t you?” Rane sneered and went back to the window. This part of the city seemed poor compared to the grand designs Linde had talked so much about. Despite the cracked roads and low-rise buildings, it was bustling with life. He rested his head on his palm and watched the groups of children playing around on the streets. Some were chasing a ball which changed direction on its own, while others were lighting up small lanterns and watching them fly up into the sky. He couldn’t remember anything from his own childhood, and yet he felt so deeply nostalgic. Was there ever a time when he had played like this?

The trotting of the horses slowed to a stop, and Avrid knocked on the wagon’s door before entering. “I’m afraid this is where our partnership comes to an end.” He kept the smile on his face, even as he fumbled at a pocket. “As promised. Two gold coins.” He placed them on the windowsill.

Rane felt a bit guilty. “We didn’t do much to earn them.”

Avrid let out a loud, hearty laugh. “Aren’t you glad? Trouble is seldom on our path, but it’s good to be prepared. Besides, your apprentice helped us get through the gates a lot quicker. Is it true, what she said? Are you on a mission on behalf of the king?”

“You could say that.” Rane gave her a sideways glance.

Avrid must have mistaken his apprehension for secresy. “I’ll let you get to it then." He extended a hand and Rane shook it. "Again, thank you.”

They exchanged smiles and Avrid left them to gather their belongings. Rane packed clothes inside a sack and threw it over his back. The sword, he strapped to his waist. “Are these allowed to fly?” Rane extended his hand and one of the birds landed on it. His control had really improved over the last weeks.

“Just don’t push them too high…” Linde stared on in bemusement. It seemed that he being able to control the birds so easily had hurt her pride somehow. She was so insistent in her questioning that Rane had to disallow it.

He stepped down from the wagon and breathed in the warm air. There was no tinge of earth loam to it, nor any spring fragrance he was used to. They stood at an elevated part of the city, and the sounds of children playing seemed distant now. The grunts coming Avrid's crew unloading logs onto the road behind him were much closer. The road itself was wide enough for a dozen horses to run, lined with pale stone buildings on either side. There were no twists or turns to it.

Rane made sure no one was watching, then released a bird onto the air. It flew over the buildings and gave him a view from above. He saw towers, obelisks, buildings and parks full of green, divided into even squares by the streets that run through the city.

“You can see the sights after we’re done.” Linde snapped him out of it. “We need to find a Nost hall or syndicate."

"You don't know where your own family is based?" Rane leaned against a building. The stone felt pleasantly cold against his back.

Linde sighed. "You have no idea how big this city is. We have over five hundred offices spread across it. You can't expect me to remember every one of them, especially when I'm not in the district I know best."

"There's districts?"

“Seven of them. The King and the royal family live in the central district, while each of the six archmages oversees one of the outer districts.” Linde looked around. “Judging by the blandness, I’d say this is Miria’s district.”

“How do we find the way to your family’s offices then?” Rane asked.

“Already found,” Linde said and nudged him to walk. A bird came to rest on each of her shoulders. “Maybe with some more practice, you’ll be able to handle more than one.”

“Lead the way,” Rane said, frowning. He went back to observing the city, taking in details of its layout and architecture. There were very few people walking the streets, and those that he saw did so with haste. “Where is everyone?”

“Gathering for the Flames, I’d imagine,” Linde said without turning. "Every decade, apprentices with renowned masters gather in the capital’s largest arena to compete against each other. It's an event that even the king attends."

"No wonder the streets are empty then." Rane mumbled. His mind drifted again. Could members of his family be attending these events? He wanted to see his siblings again…

They passed in front of a smithy, where the hammering and heat brought back a weird sense of nostalgia. He saw inns, taverns, gambling dens, statues and libraries. The closer to the central district they got, the more regal and imposing the architecture became.

"We're here." Linde came to a stop before a building slightly larger than the rest.

Rane could recognise the Nost emblem on its doors. She moved to push them open but he stopped her. "Can you somehow contact your father from here? Be honest."

"Yes. There are mages who are capable of long range communication in every building."

She wasn't resisting at all. Good so far. Rane pulled her away from the main entrance and into a nearby alley. "Here's what's going to happen," he said. "You're going to go inside and do whatever you must to get to talk to him. You will act as though you have captured me as intended. Then, once you are done, you will exit the building and report back to me, informing me of everything that transpired. Understand?"

"Yes, I understand," Linde said. Her face soured, but she didn't resist.

"Good. I'll be waiting here. Now go."

Linde gave him a hateful glare but did as he commanded without having to succumb to the Oath’s binding. She went through the door and he waited. Truth be told, he couldn't help but worry about her family's intentions. Linde herself didn't know a whole lot. If Caelus simply wanted to keep him away from Leylin, he'd gladly accept. But if there was one lesson he had learned, it was that things rarely went as planned.

He waited outside, observing the members of the Nost family that went in and out of the building. Most wore white jackets –fashioned with buttons from chest to hip– and long coats that covered their shoulders. Simple outfits, yet elegant. He felt for the blightsteel sword strapped to his waist. Dangerous thoughts invaded his mind. How many could he kill before they stopped him? Loric had taught him to consider everyone as a potential enemy. Count heads and look for paths of escape. The anxiety was getting to him more than it should, the prospect of finding out the truth enticing and scary at the same time. Linde exited the building and he pushed the thoughts away.

Linde joined him near the alley. Her face was grim. “I spoke with my father and I informed him of Anne’s death. As you instructed, I told him I’ve apprehended you.”

“And?” Rane asked. “What did he say?”

“That the situation has changed.” Linde grimaced as she spoke. “The man that’s looking for you came to the capital. He mentioned your name several times, said that you’re vital. Veradin tried to keep the incident under wraps, but he found out. Then–” She paused, and the Oath’s magic gathered around her. “Then my father said–” Linde bit down on her lower lip, drawing blood. The veins on her head bulged with darkness, tendrils of black reaching all the way to her jaw. Her mouth was forced open, and blood trickled down her chin. “He is coming to kill you.”