Ril immediately ducked underneath the imposing hand and twisted away. Instinct gained from long years of living on the street taking over. Both he and the clone dashed into the street and took off at a dead sprint. One of them chose to go up the street while the other dashed down.

The man cursed. Then dashed after the body that ran up the street. He moved impossibly fast, seeming to flit between the meager shadows that existed between the legs of the pedestrians.

Just as he was about to catch the clone, Ril unsummoned it and resummoned it next to him. He kept running, as he heard another muffled curse from behind him. He dashed forwards trying to keep as much distance between himself and his mystery assailant as possible. His clone dashed down a sidestreet, trying to keep options open. Both were keeping their eyes peeled for entrances into the Warrens. The man who was chasing them was larger than them and there was a chance that they could lose him in the tight tunnels.

Ril ran. His feet pounding on the stones of the street. He looked back at the man, and found him much closer than was comfortable. Once more he dismissed the clone just as the man’s hand was about to wrap around his wrist.

He was now halfway down the sidestreet. His straight path away from the man now no longer available. He resummoned his clone and continued his mad dash. The people blocked his way, but he managed to dodge around, through and even under them. They shouted at him, when he jostled them but he dodged all of their grasping hands. His clone likewise had no real trouble moving through the crowd, slipping like water between the cracks.

Annoyingly, the shadow man seemed to have even less trouble than them in traversing the crowds. Seeming to vanish and reappear several meters ahead of where he was last seen. Always closer to Ril, and always in a pocket that was suspiciously absent of the glowing mushrooms.

Ril expended the extra effort to make himself and the clone Vanish. Both disappeared from sight and caused no small amount of confusion as they barreled together down the street. Ril immediately noticed the problem. Although both his bodies were invisible to the naked eye, they were creating a definite wake through the crowd as they pushed, shoved, and otherwise plunged through the people with wild abandon.

To conserve his energy he dropped the invisibility, and charged to the wall of the street, while his clone continued onwards. His greatest advantage was that he was effectively two people while his pursuer was only one man. Admittedly, he was bound to his clone by distance, but the gap was wide enough that he should be able to confound his pursuer.

He reached the wall, and immediately jumped, performing a wall run before he stretched his arms as far as they would go and grasped the lip of the roof with the tips of his fingers. His left hand slipped, leaving him hanging precariously for a second.

He rallied, scrabbling against the wall with his legs as his left hand reaffirmed its grip, and he pulled himself up the wall. He rolled onto the flat topped roof and quickly glanced behind himself, only to see to his horror a wisp of deeper darkness coalesce into a grasping hand mere inches from his face.

He cursed. Reorienting himself as he continued to run down the side street as his clone vanished right before the man fully emerged from the shadows.

Finally!

An alcove tucked away in the side of the street that was clearly, but surreptitiously, marked as an entrance to the Warrens appeared ahead of him. Just as he was about to vanish into the darkness he realized that the shadow man might have the advantage in such a space, but it was too late for him to reorient. Instead he had his clone grab the shirtails of a portly merchant looking gentleman and whip around launching the clone back to the street much to the disgruntlement of the merchant.

He took two steps into the Warrens, still debating whether to swap with his clone and commit to the street, when he felt an iron grip settle on his clone. A quick twist of his clone’s head and he realized that the shadow man had already caught up to the clone.

With a curse. He dismissed the clone and resummoned it behind him in the tunnel, then doubled down on his mad dash through the dark tunnel.

He had no idea why the man was chasing him. The only thing that could come to mind was that the man was some kind of super police and had seen him steal the coin pouch from the unsuspecting passerby. Even so, unless the law here was much stricter than in Elkshire, such a response was entirely unwarranted. At most a guard from back in Elkshire would chase Ril across a couple blocks but then leave him. What the shadow man was doing was on an entirely different level.

To be fair the shadow man could really move. He was faster than anyone else Ril had ever seen, and that included when Julian had rushed across the field on the outskirts of the Dread Thicket to take care of the bandits. Not only was he fast, he also seemed to be able to perform a short range teleport in shadows. Or otherwise move through them in some manner unfamiliar to Ril.

In any case, the man had reached the entrance to the Warrens by now. Ril made his clone draw a dagger and had it dive at the pursuer knife first. If the man was as powerful as he seemed such an attack wouldn’t permanently harm him, but it may slow him down long enough for Ril to escape.

The man flinched backwards with an expression of shock at the clone’s lunge. Then with near inhuman speed he placed two fingers on one of the many old-looking daggers that covered his person. The dagger disappeared in a puff of a hundred motes of white light. The tiny motes of light initially had the shape of the dagger, but quickly dispersed and disappeared leaving nothing of the rusty dagger behind.

Before Ril could marvel or wonder too much about what had just happened an overwhelming blast of force hit his sword just above the hilt, launching the blade out of his hand, and making his wrist ache from the feedback.

He tumbled into the shadow man who caught him roughly in a vise like grip.

“Look you little--” the man said, before Ril dismissed the clone and resummoned it further up the tunnel.

Once more Ril charged the shadow man as the other piece of himself continued to race away, taking the most expedient path out of the Warrens.

“Fine then.” He heard the man mutter. Then every shadow within ten meters of the man seemed to writhe and twist. Tendrils made of pure darkness rose from every surface, looking like the inside of some fel creatures throat. The tendrils reached for Ril, wrapping around his four limbs with startling alacrity. Barely half a second had passed and he was entirely ensnared.

Grunting, Ril kicked his way backwards. In spite of their speed, the shadow tendrils hadn’t fully materialized yet, and Ril managed to wade through them, if with difficulty. Looking at the shadows pouring out of the man, Ril reached deep inside of himself.

Then from the palms of both of his outstretched hands a burst of reddish fire emerged. The Flames burned steadily, ironically creating even deeper shadows where they did not reach. But for the space intervening between the two combatants the light spread cheerfully. Banishing the darkness that welled up like an oily ink from the cloak of the shadow man.

Unfortunately, the light only seemed to truly bother the shadows that were practically touching Ril. The shadows beyond writhed unhappily but seemed unharmed, only getting darker as more darkness poured out of the now completely obscured man.

A stillness fell upon the space. Ril’s arms were raised threateningly, while the pursuer stood utterly still in his pool of dripping shadows. Neither spoke for a moment, nor did they move.

“Who are you?” Ril broke the silence first. His clone was still sprinting through the Warrens and any time he could stall the man here would help in his eventual escape.

“Siorraid...and you?” The voice emerged from the shadows, its owner entirely obscured.

Ril narrowed his eyes. “Why are you chasing me?”

A soft chuckle emerged from the shadows. “I was just planning on having a nice chat, but you seemed to have other ideas.”

Ril’s clone had reached the edge of its range by now. “Well, nice chat. Bye now.”

At that Ril vanished and continued his sprint through the tunnels.

* * *

Sioraid stood calmly in the void. His eyes closed. Simply reveling in the feeling of being surrounded by pure shadow. Darkness so pure as to have no shape swirled around him. Despite his closed eyes, Siorraid saw every nick and crevasse that lined the walls of the tunnel. His shadow tendrils caressed the walls of the cavern, providing him an even more accurate perception of the stone.

Then he sighed, opening his eyes once more, and dispersing the void that he had prepared for the fight that had not occurred. Once again the twin of the slippery man disappeared, leaving the shadow encrusted tunnel devoid of all but himself.

He was not worried about catching the young man. Compared to himself, the young man was slow. The strange power he wielded might be a small problem, but it wouldn’t delay Siorraid much. At least not for long.

His brief conversation with the deviant had convinced him that his quarry was indeed just a single person. Most obviously because he referred to himself in the singular. That just made him more interesting. Recruitment was definitely the goal.

Siorraid sighed again. The issue is that the young man was running. Barely letting him get in a word edgewise. But that was fine. It had been some time since anyone managed to actually make him exert himself. Other than powder beasts of course.

Siorraid hopped onto a veil of shadows, leisurely surfing through the tunnel as fast as a horse could run, but not a moment later he was forced to stop.

In front of him, were the tunnel narrowed slightly before it curved, there was a wall of packed snow blocking his way.

Siorraid let out a full belly laugh.

“Snow too? Oh, this is going to be so much fun.”

* * *

Ril burst out of the Warrens and charged up the side of the first building that he saw. Hopefully the elevation and the lack of crowds would diminish the shadows and make Siorraid weaker, although it was a faint hope. It seemed the man could create shadows as easily as breathing. He could also control them, so there was no reason that Ril could see why Siorraid couldn’t just bring his shadows with him.

He rolled onto the roof of the building and sprinted along the roof, trying to keep away from the edge. In Elkshire the guard would get irate whenever he was spotted on the rooftops. The same could happen here and he was hoping to prevent further altercations with unreasonably powerful individuals.

Ril leapt across the alleyway that separated two buildings and checked behind him. As he had been doing this the entire time, his clone had remained at the exit to the Warrens and had created as many Snowballs as he could to try and slow Siorraid. It had worked surprisingly well, which is the only reason why Ril continued. He felt a bone deep exhaustion welling up from his core, as his mana reserves began to run dry.

He recognized where he was. He had exited the Warrens early. Not willing to risk staying within Siorraids domain for too much longer. Especially with the growing well of exhaustion in his belly with every additional snowball. As such, he was back on the street where the old tanner had lived. Leading Siorraid to Eren and Hauke was a big no no. He had to lose his pursuer before he reconvened with his allies.

He only had a vague inkling of a plan, but one specific thing that the tanner had said to him struck him as good enough to try.

Ril leapt over another alleyway when Siorraid burst out of the Warrens, a spray of snow exploding out in a cone and eliciting annoyed shouts from anyone unlucky enough to get caught in the deluge. Ril’s clone immediately vanished and reappeared at Ril’s side.

Ril looked back to see Siorraid follow him up to the rooftops without hesitation. The damn man had some way to detect him. It was maddening. But he had made it to the tanners home.

Ril grinned and slipped down the side of the house with the worst smell, and slipped through the open window that prevented the buildup of the corrosive gasses.

Ril gasped, nearly tumbling into a vat of bubbling bright violet liquid, that spewed and boiled, releasing purple smoke that burned Ril’s nose as he nearly took a dip from his hasty entrance. Ril straddled the vat, grabbing either end with his hands as his feet struggled to find purchase on the slippery stone. The heat coming off of the pool nearly signed off his eyebrows, while the little droplets that sputtered out of the pool landed on his shirt. His shirt dipped into the terrifying liquid as he caught himself and rolled out of the way.

The vat was inset into the ground to make reaching it easier, with only a slight 20 centimeter lip preventing the corrosive liquid to spill everywhere. The liquid was annoyingly bright, seeming to emit its own light as it colored the room in the unnatural color that so resembled the various forms Chromium dust took in its processed form.

Ril rested on his back for a moment. Eyes wide and breathing hard from his near death experience. The tanner wasn’t kidding that the job was dangerous. The liquid looked ready to jump out of the vat and eat him. Ril passed his hand over his stomach only to find a thousand tiny holes and one larger hole where the liquid had touched his shirt.

Ril gulped, and rolled to his feet before stepping as far away from the vat as he could. Then he Vanished both himself and the clone and curled up in the corner of the room. Hopefully Siorraid would move on if he couldn’t see or smell him. If his tracking power was something else, then Ril was out of ideas.

The room he had found himself in was oblong. On the near side next to the window, the vat of tanning solution bubbled in a sinister manner. On the far side of the room, there were various racks of drying leather pelts. Surprisingly, while there were normal tawny pelts, there were plenty of pelts that looked to have come from powder beasts. Next to the drying racks a door stood closed. Supposedly leading to the rest of the tanners house.

Along the ceiling there were a healthy amount of glowing mushrooms. However, unlike the mushrooms that were common in the main cavern, these shrooms grew inside of glass spheres. Considering the complete lack of the light sources elsewhere in the room, Ril supposed that the glass bulbs were there to protect the fungus from the corrosive fumes.

Wait, what if he can sense me as long as I am touching shadows?, Ril thought to himself. Then quickly moved over to the most well lit part of the room, rubbing his eyes in the process as they had started to burn slightly the moment he had entered the room. It was still dim, since the mushrooms in the ceiling bulbs were not capable of the same amount of output of a true torch or magnetite lamp.

Just then, Siorraid vaulted into the room, narrowly missing the corrosive vat by scant millimeters. Ril grinned as the man stumbled slightly, but held his breath while staying as still and quiet as he could.

Siorraid straightened. His shredded cloak settling. Through the gaps in the garment the various knives he had strapped to himself sparkled dimly in the violet light emitted by the pool. He looked around the room, taking in the pool, and the drying racks, then he smiled slightly, and spoke.

“You never did tell me your name.” Siorraid said.

Ril didn’t respond, still holding his breath and hoping beyond hope that the crazy man was bluffing.

Siorraid chuckled. “Believe me kid. I don’t want to hurt you. Just wanted to talk to you.”

When Ril still didn’t respond, a slight frown graced his face. “Speak. I can sense you crouching over there.”

Ril’s eyes narrowed. The man clearly didn’t use sight or smell to detect him. Vanish and the violet atmosphere made sure of that. It wasn’t sound. Ril was staying so silent that unless the man could hear heartbeats he shouldn’t be able to detect him. And if he could somehow hear heartbeats he should be deafened by the commotion outside.

Think!, Ril thought to himself furiously, What other clues am I leaving?

Snakes had some sort of heat vision, Ril remembered, but the heat of the room should have nullified that at least partially. It probably wasn’t shadows either. The man wasn’t manipulating the shadows currently like he had been in the Warrens. Of course his ability may be some form of passive shadow perception, which wouldn’t be something that Ril could outsmart. However there was one last thing that Ril could try.

Ril reached deep within himself and grasped at his mana. Normally, his mana swirled gently within him. The many tiny cores granted to him by diffuse mana manipulation floated peacefully throughout his body. They floated in a sea of even more diffuse mana that had remained from back when he had initially created the cores in Gemma’s cottage.

If snakes can see heat. I see no reason why humans can’t gain the ability to see mana.

With that thought, he willed his mana to still, his cores to relax. He focused his Keen Mind on pulling every fragment of mana that existed in his body into the cores. Somehow, it was significantly easier than last time he had tried to change the structure of his mana pool.

Where before he had spent hours meditating to force his mana to congregate, now barely a couple seconds passed before he received a notification.

Congratulations! You have unlocked the channeled ability: Mana Prison.

Trap the mana within your body. None shall escape.

Mana recovered beyond capacity is damaging.

Smiling he continued to exert his will upon his mana pool. Since he had exerted himself heavily up until this point he felt no pain from his mana.

“Impressive,” Siorraid said, nodding in Ril’s direction which immediately wiped Ril’s smile from his face. “To befuddle so many senses and have the capacity to adapt so quickly in the face of adversity. However you made a critical assumption that is false.”

Siorraid’s eyes locked with Ril’s invisible ones, and he reached up under his cloak and touched one of his daggers. Ril’s eyes widened as he remembered what had happened last time Siorraid had touched his daggers.

Ril jumped to the side as a blast of pressurized air smashed into the stone where he had just been. The inside of Siorraid’s jacket briefly lit up as another dagger dissolved.

“And what was that?” Ril asked, finally revealing both himself and the clone as they got up from where they had jumped to avoid the blast.

“That any amount of ingenuity could hide you from my sight.” Siorraid looked like he would continue, but then he smiled and seemed to change his mind. “I would like you to join my organization. Come, there is someone that I want you to meet. And we could talk in comfort.”

“And what if I don’t want to talk with you or join your organization?” Ril said, a hint of anger seeping into his voice. He hated this. Being trapped. Forced to face an implacable foe with no clues.

“Are you part of another organization then? Either way, an individual of your power has no business waltzing into our city without at least stopping by for a cup of tea. Don't you think?” Siorraid said this while extending an open palm to Ril. “If you don't come willingly, I am going to have to make you.”

Ril carefully controlled his expression with an iron will. The same iron will that had, through sheer force, quelled the inefficiencies of his mana mere moments before. Rage, fear, disgust, and hate swirled inside of him. The emotions mixed unpleasantly with his imprisoned mana, causing it to boil, straining against the bonds that contained it.

And still, not a shred of mana escaped, nor did a fragment of emotion appear on Ril’s youthful face. He stared calmly at the man that would take him away. Take his freedom, for no reason that Ril could discern other than his own curiosity. Or perhaps the curiosity of his so-called organization.

Siorraid had said that there was no action that Ril could take that would hide his presence from him. Well. If Ril couldn’t hide. Then he would destroy him.