The Hero's first actual decision as the leader of her party was simple. Help rebuild the city and recover the bodies of the dead. I held no resentment for this, at first. But, one day turned into two into a week into two more. The time was not truly the issue, far from it. I chose this position because the slower pace would demand that I experience parts of the world differently than before. So, the time itself was actually a welcome thing, instead of an annoyance. But other factors had grown from minor irritations into actual problems that I need deal with but couldn't. A particular individual had grown from a thorn I could flick away when it prodded my flesh to a floating blade that dared severe my head should I stay still for too long.

If I needn't care about consequences, I'd have long taken the life of such an individual. However, I must stay my a hand for a variety of reasons. The simplest of which is my current public position as a member of The Hero's party. The eyes of the public flock to those they recognize, and they whisper amongst themselves about the actions of such individuals. Those eyes gather to me, and if I take steps too far outside what is expected from my position, I risk losing that position. And, I hold no doubt that should I take direct action against the individual causing me trouble, they will have put in place some manner of failsafe to lead any harm that befalls them back to me in a public fashion.

The trouble was simple at first, guardsmen giving me difficulty over the simplest things—harassment in its most blatant form, but nothing more than a waste of time. However, it escalated, day after day growing more troublesome and less easily traced back to the source. Random beggars leaping at me and attempting to rip my clothing, children tossing mud with sharpened rocks at me, and even a prostitute who refused to let go of me for an entire day. These were some of the first escalations to turn my time in this city into something bothersome. These grew yet again in the past few days. I could no longer walk amongst crowds without the fear that someone would try to stab a knife into me or slash my coat without warning. I couldn't take alleys without having to deal with someone trying to rob me of money I don't carry or a supposed drunkard trying to smash my skull in with a strengthened glass bottle. The potential dangers had grown to the point where I could no longer walk with the other members of The Hero's party; instead, I had to take an alternative route and meet them wherever we were to work next.

So, to my dissatisfaction, I must voice my annoyance to The Hero without revealing the whole truth of my issues. I believe this will likely result in tainting her view of me, portraying myself as someone callous enough to abandon those in need when I grow bored of them. But, if I don't convince her to move beyond this city soon, I fear that the irritants around me will grow so profound I will no longer be capable of concealing them. Or perhaps the individual assailing me will turn their attention to the other members of The Hero's party, who may not be as equipped to deal with such matters. Neither of these options is desirable.

I had debated letting these problems become visible and, in turn, gain The Hero's assistance in dealing with them. A potential benefit I saw in such a course of action was boosting her confidence and training her decision-making. However, as I worked at her side, I noticed that she holds more trust in the authority of this nation than I initially believed. Or maybe it's some inability to doubt forms of governance; I couldn't tell. Either way, that realization led me to conclude that making her aware of my problems would not align with my goal of moving past this city. Instead, she would have remained for even longer as she tried to solve the issue using her connections in the royal family. So, I fell back to lies and deception, hiding my problems and crafting a persona that would try to abandon people in need.

That was the plan.

But, aligning with my experience, my plan fell apart the instant I went to enact it. I never understood why; I don't think myself bad at planning, but no matter how much or how little I plan, nothing would go as expected if I took action in accordance with something I outlined prior to those actions. This time was no different. I'd planned to lie to The Hero and convince her to leave the city at the cost of any respect she might hold for me. But, when I arrived at the location we'd established for today's first meeting, the same restaurant as our first introduction, the atmosphere was not what I'd come to expect.

While the mood surrounding our meetings was usually one tempered by the nature of our current work, it wasn't generally so dreadful. I'd regularly catch a tired joke from either The Hero or The Archer, a barely relevant line of scripture from The Priestess, or even some odd self-praise from The Mage, but not right now. For the first time since I'd joined, the mood of everyone at the table matched the one regularly projected by The Shieldbearer. Despite the similarity, I doubted a connection between him and the current situation. I thought so primarily because his mood matched the restaurant staff, who've likely grown irritated with us frequenting this place without spending much money. So, yes, his attitude matched the others, but that appeared to be his natural state, so any change from him likely wasn't the cause of this situation.

"Take a seat." The Archer said to me curtly when he caught sight of me. He'd been less than jovial since the attack and even less so when speaking to me. But, this time, his tone was slightly more grave than I'd grown used to.

"What appears to be the issue?" I wrote out a question because of the grim atmosphere. I held some curiosity but also a good bit of caution that this may have had to do with myself. But, I ignored the second of those emotions and focused on the first as I took my seat.

"Ahem" Standing from her seat, not that it made her that much taller, The Hero cleared her throat to grab our attention. "A few of you have spoken to me in private about how you have an issue with our current position, whether it be the physical location or otherwise." Her voice was level, but I felt like she was hiding something beneath the surface. "I won't call anyone out specifically or say what any of you have told me in private, but if anyone wants to share their problems with everyone, I'd like them to do so." She looked around the table, taking care not to let her eyes linger on anyone for longer than the rest. "So, if you would like to say your part, now is your opportunity." With that statement, The Hero sat down once more.

I didn't have many expectations of anyone being open about what they'd said to The Hero, nor did I expect anyone even to admit they'd said anything to her. However, I was proven wrong when The Mage stood up from her seat with a downcast look.

"I am embarrassed to admit, but I am on the brink of sleeping in the streets." She started, her voice barely a shadow of her usual tone. "I've been staying at the academy this entire time, however." She paused something about the next part, seemingly more difficult to say. "They'll be starting a new term soon, and as I'm no longer a student, I'm required to vacate the dorm before they need it for new students." She stopped talking again, but this time it didn't appear she was going to resume speaking. The Mage remained standing as if she wanted to keep speaking but couldn't bring herself to say the words. But, she was saved from having to explain any further when The Archer opened his mouth.

"I'm in a similar boat. I can't stay at the castle, rules about foreign individuals in secure locations and all that." He chuckled at the statement like it was a self-deprecating joke. "And my small bag of change is turning into a tiny bag of lint a little fast for comfort, so I gotta do something for money soon."

The Archer made a sort of wave of his hand to say that he wouldn't be saying anything further. And, looking around showed that The Mage had taken the shift in focus to retake her seat without everyone looking at her. Silence swept over the table, everyone eyeing everyone else to see if someone else would speak up. I waited for a moment to see if anyone else would add fuel to the kindling under THe Hero's seat. But, when no one did, I stood from my seat, a new lie forming on my fingers, ready to turn the kindling into a roaring flame.

"I apologize for hiding it, but that is the reality of my situation as well." I let the words float while I swept my perception around each person individually. Four of the five people reacted with nods of acceptance. But, the fifth, The Hero, had a look of shock, clearly not having expected me to say anything. "I've been scraping by for food, but I haven't had the funds for a place to stay for some time." This was only half a lie. It was true that I didn't have funds for a room anywhere, but only because I'd never had such a thing in my budget at all. The food part was entirely a lie; why buy food when I couldn't eat it anyways. "Normally, I'd make due, with jobs from the explorer guild, however..." I let the end of the sentence float because I didn't know the current state of jobs from the guild. I'd prefer not to get caught in my lie because of something so trivial.

To my satisfaction, someone unexpected spoke up to strengthen my lie. "The job board at the guilds been filled with volunteer work ever since the attack, no paying jobs." The Shieldbearer spoke up a piece of information that helped my story along.

I had no idea why he helped me or if the information he'd given was accurate, but I was never one to look a gift beast in the mouth. "Indeed, makes it difficult to rely on them as a source of income." I wrote one final sentence before retaking my seat.

With how little I'd provided about myself, the reaction of everyone present would be something to take in, but at first, I only cared to look toward The Hero and see her reaction. Her eyes were wide, filled with confusion but a tiny spark of comprehension. Her mouth hung open ever so slightly, like a single word of shock had failed to leave her lips. Her head was lulled back ever so slightly as she relaxed her body to allow her mind to take in the information presented, but the fingers of her hand, barely visible from my position, twitched ever so slightly. Recognizing that she'd need a moment to think, I turned my perception to the others. The Mage had hung her head low, hiding her face from the rest of the group. The Archer had leaned his chair back trying to act the way he did in our first meeting, but a constant rocking of the chair and tapping his finger told me he was agitated by something. The Priestess looked normal at a glance, and since she hadn't voiced any issue herself, I would have passed over her without a thought. However, her eyes had bags beneath them, and her usually chilly expression was somewhat stiffer than I'd grown used to seeing. The Shieldbearer looked pale, his skin somehow looking less touched by the sun than our first meeting, despite spending just as much time under its heat.

I would have analyzed them each a little longer, but a cough from the Direction of The Hero drew all the group's eyes to her once more.

"Alright, so our big issue right now is money, but all the money in the city is going to repairs. Mask, how are your survival skills?" The Hero asked a question, the clear light of a plan shinning behind her eyes.

"I'm proficient in identifying edible flora and fauna. However, my actual ability to turn them into food is limited." I wrote out as accurate a response as I thought relevant.

"Good enough." The Hero gave me a thumbs up, an odd gesture but one I recognized. "Shu-Na, you have experience with camping, correct?" The Hero continued, that light in her eyes growing brighter.

The Archer perked up at the question directed at him, the front two legs of his chair clicking against the floor as he leaned forward. "Limited experience, but yes." The Archer replied with a hint of confusion in his voice.

The Hero nodded at the response from The Archer, as if it wasn't quite what she'd hoped for, but was enough regardless. "We'll talk more about what I need from you after this. Roxy, Emilia, how willing are you two to sleep in the wilds?" This question contained a bit more caution than the first two, like The Hero wasn't sure how they'd respond.

The first one to give any sort of answer was The Priestess. "The ground beneath contain all comfort I require, and the land around provides all I need to sustain myself." She replied by misquoting a piece of scripture, but when The Hero gave a confused look in response, she sighed and spoke again. "I don't much care where I sleep or what I eat, just as long as I get both." She rephrased what she'd said so that everyone would understand.

The Hero nodded at the second response and directed her gaze toward The Mage, her gleaming eyes boring into the girl.

The Mage looked somewhat confused, like the thought of camping had never crossed her mind. Or maybe it was something else that had her contemplating her answer for so long. I wasn't sure. However, she didn't spend overly long thinking before responding. "I've never been camping, but I don't imagine it would be something I'm unwilling to do." She gave what could be taken as a go-ahead for what The Hero had planned.

"YES," The Hero cheered a little before her expression turned serious. "Deven, do you take issue with camping on our way to wherever we are going?" She initially asked the question in a seemingly innocuous way but suggested a layered conversation was taking place.

The Shieldbearer didn't react much to the question, merely closing his eyes to think before giving his response. "Camping should be fine, I'll handle any extra baggage I may need, so I'm fine." He seemed to choose his words carefully while replying, but I couldn't figure out the hidden meaning of his statement, not yet at least.

"Well then, for now, you all should go get your bags together for travel." The Hero directed. "Shu-Na, if you'd stick around for a bit, I have some other questions I hope you can help with. Everyone else, meet back here tomorrow, and we'll discuss where we'll be going from here; I have a feeling we will be going north. But, we'll work it out better tomorrow." The Hero cheerily dismissed everyone to go and prepare for a trip while turning to discuss the specifics of camping equipment with The Archer.

"Well, you seem a little irritated, or are you just in a rush?" Scales whispered in my ear.

"The Hero wishes to go north, I don't know why, but my or more accurately, our goal requires that she go west," I wrote out a reply to the winged serpent on my shoulder. I crafted a similar spell to the one I'd used to find Scales to demonstrate my point. Above my hand, two arrows appeared, one a vibrant gold, the other a dull rust red. The golden one pulsed, growing brighter for a moment before fading to a faint glow; it generally faced southwest. The red one was flickering rapidly, sometimes becoming barely visible; this one was pointing almost straight west.

"How far?" Scales asked, using his tail to point at the golden arrow.

"Far enough that I can safely assume we'd leave the central continent. The red one is much closer, but I don't have as precise of a measurement." I answered Scale's question before continuing with the previous topic. "Regardless of which I want to pursue, going north would be counterproductive. But I lack the means to convince her, or any of the others, against going north."

"Now, you and I both know that's a lie." Scales whispered back, a hint of mischief leaking into his voice e.

"They do not trust me enough to go where I direct unless I provide a sufficient explanation, and that is something I cannot do." I wove a golden message into the air. "The easiest to explain would be this one," I continued while pointing the red arrow. "But I doubt they'd take kindly to me having let him slip out of the city for any reason." I tried to explain my thought process to Scales.

"True, but you have other methods to convince them, more interesting methods," Scales spoke in a manner fitting of his appearance, his voice that of a trickster.

"I recognize what you are suggesting but must direct your attention to my current lack of resources." I wrote out, trying my best to convey the impossibility of Scale's suggested course of action.

"Well, that would be true, If I wasn't left alone for so long. But, as it is, I had so much time to accrue what you need that it is almost comical." He whispered, letting some of his true nature show more with each word. "You know what I want, just ask." He whispered in my ear with a devilish tone.

"You are as incorrigible as ever, my friend." I wrote out a slight against the serpent.

"I may be, but you'll go along with it cause you want just a little guarantee, and I'll gladly provide what you need because I always love watching the show." Scales whispered, goading me to go along with his plan. "Come on, just agree, build the path forward," He continued.

I felt like sighing. Scales was as irritating about his desires as he'd ever been. His current form having done nothing to discourage him from his darker tendencies. But, he was right, I'd go along with what he was suggesting, and I'd give him what he wanted along the way. "Do you think the top of the castle would make for a good spot?" I asked the serpent.

I didn't need a reply, and he knew that, so he didn't give one. But, I could tell from the shift in his movement that he was ecstatic at me agreeing to this. So I changed course toward the castle, the top too exposed to simply step to from my current position. I'd have to climb it the old-fashioned way.

Rus walked his usual patrol route, stopped in his usual spots, and performed his usual area inspections. Everything came back as expected, no signs of an intruder, no indication that someone was hiding in the area, and nothing to suggest that someone had tampered with anything within the castle grounds. According to everything Rus had found, nothing was wrong, and today would be another uneventful shift. This should have put Rus at ease, let him relax knowing that he'd finish his watch and go home without incident. But Rus couldn't relax. He did his rounds and then did them again, double-checking every spot, then triple-checking them still.

Why was Rus so on edge, unable to accept what his eyes and ears were telling him? His buddies back at the watch house had assumed it had to do with him seeing something in town that reminded him of the attack. His superior would attribute it to a desire to be promoted. But Rus wasn't such a person to have either last month's attack or some unpromised promotion impact him this way. What really had Rus so on edge was the air.

In the middle of the hot season and well before sundown, the air should feel warm and dry, to an almost uncomfortable degree. The sun would regularly bake Rus in his armor and leave him desperate for a drink when his shift ended. However, despite the air being as warm as ever, it felt chilled on Rus's skin. The sweat dripping down his back felt painfully cold as if it'd frozen to his skin. The air itself felt like it was about to rain, despite the lack of clouds in the area. Rus tried to ignore it, but it kept getting colder. His skin tightened down into visible bumps, his joints ached, and his scars tingled. Rus wanted to ignore it, but the longer it went on, the more he felt it in his spine, a bitter chill that none of the other guardsmen had mentioned.

Unable to escape that chill, Rus decided to follow it. When he went out for his final patrol, he took his time, paying attention to that horrible feeling, trying to find the source, see where the bone-chilling cold originated. He looked in every cranny, feeling for some shift in the air, relying entirely on senses other than his eyes to find whatever had him on feeling like this. And, eventually, Rus found something, a spot near the outer wall where the cold got worse, and his spine felt constricted. From there, it was easier to find the next place, like a trail of breadcrumbs, tiny sprinkles of air that made Rus's joints hurt the slightest bit more.

That chill with no cold went from the outer wall to the gardens, and from there, they lead further into the main keep. Rus debated going for backup multiple times, launching a flare, anything. But, he chose not to; none of the others had felt it; they'd just think him crazy if he called them for this. So, he followed the trail alone until it reached a wall. From there, things got complicated. Rus couldn't find any more of the cold spots to the left or right of the wall, and when he debated going inside, it was like the feeling vanished entirely for an instant. The trail stopped right at the bottom of the wall. So, Rus stood around that spot, inspecting it thoroughly, trying to find if someone had dug into the ground or somehow tampered with the wall. But, he found nothing, no matter how much he looked. It wasn't until he leaned his head back to groan in exasperation that he felt another spike of cold down the center of his back.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Rus muttered to himself, taking in the exact spot that brought on the chill, almost directly above his head. "You could turn around, Rus. No one would know you ignored this. They couldn't even feel it themselves, so they can't possibly get upset at you, right?" Rus did his best to talk himself out of climbing the wall, but despite everything he said, a voice in the back of his head still spoke the truth. >If you ignore it, you'll know you did, they can't get upset at you, but would you be able to stomach ignoring this?

So resigning himself to his day having far more trouble than he'd ever like, Rus started taking off his equipment to make climbing the wall something feasible.

"I REGRET EVERYTHING" Rus screamed, but despite his volume, he knew no one could hear him. The wall of the tower was too thick to let his voice travel inside, and the ground below was so far down that the wind would wisk away his voice long before anyone heard it. Despite this, Rus screamed anyways. He screamed because the chill had grown more potent the higher he climbed, the tower wasn't designed for anyone to climb it, and he'd made the mistake of looking down. The ground wavered the image of that far-off landing shifting in Rus's eyes. His hands felt clammy, his grip weak and tired, and today's lunch churned in his stomach. But Rus kept climbing because he thought he was close. Well, he knew he had to be because the top of the tower was only a little further up, but he still attributed it to feeling rather than logic.

One movement at a time, Rus kept climbing, dreading the point when he reached the overhang above him, and he had to take a risk to get onto it; after all, the awning spread out past the wall just beyond the reach of Rus's hands. Hand, then foot, hand then foot, up and up, brick by brick, Rus climbed closer, all the while his muscles growing stiffer from the chill in his bones. Just beneath the awning, The cold felt so sharp that it no longer resembled a winter breeze, but instead an icy dagger stabbing into his entire body, but still, he jumped out and caught the overhang, intent on seeing what had him feeling like this. The cold was potent, leaving his nerves dead to the warm wind blowing past him, but it sharpened his mind. He felt so focused on this task, despite having little to no idea what the task was, so he pulled himself over the awning, thinking himself prepared to deal with whatever he found.

"So, it's a ritual?" Scales asked flagrant curiosity in his voice.

"In a manner," I replied, continuing to weave mana into the correct formation.

"But, you called it a spell back then; I thought you had a thing about specifics?" Scales asked a further question, his cost for footing the bill of our current project.

"I make sure to separate spells and rituals when it is possible to. However, this is both and neither, and as I don't have a term for it, I refer to it as I deem relevant to the current moment." I continued working while writing, a task I wouldn't be able to do once I reached the next stage.

"Do you need anything specific for it to work?" Scales asked further questions.

"The only requirements are that it must cover a large enough population and have an absurd amount of mana ran through it till its completion. Unfortunately, you can never be sure you have met those requirements because the necessary amount changes depending on your goal." I replied while tieing strands of mana together to form a lattice over the city.

"Do you think you'll ha... it seems we have an overly curious intruder." Scales straightened out his body as if he intended to use himself as an arrow to impale the poor man at the edge of the tower.

"Leave him," I replied simply.

"He could interfere. Wouldn't it be safer to at least knock him out?" Scales asked, a spell forming on his tail.

I turned away from my work to the man who'd only just gotten his entire body over the edge of the tower. He was past his prime, but only just. His hair was thin and cut short, but it wasn't yet greying. He had nothing on him, but his tan lines, the fit and coloration of his clothes, and other minor details suggested he was a guard, likely for the castle itself. He appeared out of breath, or maybe he was so shocked he couldn't find his words, not that it mattered. He looked cold, sweaty, his skin raised into visible bumps. But, despite everything about the man suggesting he was beyond his depth, his eyes were sharp, focused beyond belief, observing our every movement with keen attention to detail. I knew why Scales wanted to get rid of him, he was a distraction and a potential risk, but I liked him for more than one reason. But scales wouldn't buy a vague explanation, so I decided to give him some context.

"What brought you up here?" I made the words large enough that the guard could see them from his position.

"I'd l-like to ask y-you the s-same th-thing," He replied, his voice shaking a tiny bit.

"I'm casting a spell that needs the height, now you." I gave him the information he wanted without any complaint, then pushed for him to respond in kind.

"S-some-t-thing di-didn't f-feel right." He answered, his voice still shaking, but not from any apparent fear; it was the chattering of someone at the brink of an icy grave.

"And how did that lead you all the way up here?" I continued prodding the man for information, mindful of Scales growing increasingly agitated with his presence. The guard seemed to stall for a moment like he was trying to find a way to answer me, but the words weren't quite right. "Don't worry about the details or making sense. Just answer, we can go from there. In exchange, you can ask another question of your own." I wrote out something I thought would get him speaking again.

"It-it was li-like a trail of c-co-cold." The guard responded, and finally, I felt Scales relax. "Y-you, you're wi-with the he-hero, right?" He asked his question, and I felt the mana in my hands hum in response to the ongoing conversation.

"I am. Have you ever felt something like this cold before?" I asked my question after responding to his. The mana in my hands sang at this interaction, the spell already strong enough to feel the relevant strings in the air. I let it hum, let it prod the air, but I took care to cull any lingering goals they encountered; the formation wasn't ready for that yet.

"N-not bef-before today." He replied, an innocent curiosity seeping into his voice. "The s-spell isn't da-dangerous, is it?" He asked.

"It isn't intended to be, but I will be honest, it can be." I wrote out a response, and I noticed him tense up because of it.

"S-sh-should I try t-to stop y-you?" He asked, his tone a mix of concern and honest confusion."

"I wouldn't," I replied. "At this point, stopping me produces more of a risk than letting me continue." As I wrote that reply, I reached the point in my work at which I would no longer be able to converse while continuing. "Now, I, unfortunately, won't be able to keep up our conversation from this point, but if you sit and watch, I offer you a bit of unique information as payment when I'm finished." This was directed at both the guard and at Scales. Both would receive a piece of information they'd find useful if they sat still and didn't interfere in the rest of my work.

The lattice in between my fingers unwrapped, spreading out across the entire city. A mesh of complex woven mana draped over the buildings and people like spiders silken webs. Each strand of the mesh was so thin that it was almost imperceivable, but they all connected back to here, even more, likened to a web. As people moved, they caught more and more strands, tieing them together, binding them to the outcome, whatever it may be. The strands spread, following connections between those in the city, both physical and not. They connected to everything, buildings someone found particularly pretty, tied to those who worked within and hated the place with a passion. The web vibrated, the fates of every person rubbing against the structure, each one telling a story, each one trying to make itself the most prominent in the web of destiny. I flicked each section, sending it flying further, stretching each section out, trying to spread the net as far as I could, guarantee it covered as many individuals as the structure possible could. And as I did, the people unknowingly helped me, hugging, bumping, slapping, screaming, buying, selling, all of these things spread the strands from one to another and back again.

The web fed me information, millions of lives, from bugs to people, hundreds of conversations, thousands of interactions between them. The lust of a man outside a brothel, the greed of a woman in the gambling house, the innocence of a child playing in the park all tied together, aligning to an objective that may or may not impact them. The valor of a knight at the wall, the anger of a woman at a grave, the grief of the girl beside her, each forming their own strand in the web, reinforcing it, finalizing it. The glee of a man buying a present for someone he loves, the jealousy of someone who loved the same person, an unseen connection, but all the stronger for it. Emotion, action, inaction, choices, opportunities, instinct, and everything else, all parts of something so significant that I could never comprehend it all. I let the web grow, each person's life causing vibrations and changes as they went about their day. I let it grow so dense that if anyone could see the formation, they'd go blind from its impossibly grand radiance. And when it reached a size large enough that I could no longer tear it down even if I wanted to, I started to speak, my voice traveling along each strand to align them. Set them to a path of my choosing using as few events as possible.