Early the following day, Mr. Evenore set out again from Eastfront. Having completed his purchase of provisions and having made his pilgrimage to Lithal Cathedral in the city, it was time to depart for distant lands again.

It was expected that the guards would ask why he was carrying a wagon pulled by two horses, with another one accompanying them. Instead, the guards asked what he had in that blanket-covered wagon a couple of times. Still, as expected, a couple of coins silenced any accusations of smuggling. Eastfront continued to be unsettled by the previous night's events. The guard had tightened their security, and several parties of soldiers moved into the council's territories to apparently hunt down the Black Rats.

As they left the walls, the houses around the city gates were the last things that remained nearby, along with the farms built around them.

As traffic was starting to thin out, Ronan finally gave the word for them to get out.

"Okay, get out of there already," Ronan ordered, lifting the blanket. Underneath these, Fynn, Yue, and Idda had hidden among the supplies, they were carrying.

"Oh, by Lithal, we're outside the walls," Idda exclaimed paranoidly. Her face was less swollen but still bore several bruise marks.

"We're out of trouble, easy," Fynn exclaimed, turning her gaze to Ronan. "We're safe, right?"

Ronan shrugged, "That's kind of ambiguous."

"Why the hell don't we just ride our horses and be done with it?" spat Yue.

"Sure, Miss Congeniality had caught the guards' attention. But, considering how upset the guards are, it was better to hide you all."

Yue looked annoyed at Ronan, but Fynn reassured his friend.

"It was for our safety. Now we can be free again."

The akajsi girl just sighed in annoyance.

"So what about her?" asked Yue.

Idda, still fearful, tried to stay crestfallen and hidden inside the wagon. But unfortunately, the few city dwellers still on the roads were reason enough to generate paranoia in her.

"Idda, how are you feeling?" asked Fynn, smiling.

The girl turned swiftly to him but soon drew a smile on her slightly swollen face.

"I'll be fine. It doesn't hurt so much anymore."

"Girl," Ronan caught Idda's attention, "Do you know anyone outside Mizuna? Any relatives, friends..."

The answer was negative. Idda had been raised all her life in the Monstrade province of Mizuna, and now, everyone she had ever met considered her to be a traitor.

Ronan sighed heavily, for, with each refusal, his journey only grew longer and longer.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Evenore..." the russet-haired girl apologized apologetically.

Ronan, Fynn, and Yue couldn't help but smile at that.

"You don't have to apologize, girl," the trickster exclaimed smilingly. "Call me, Ronan, Evenore is just a nickname..."

"Wait... is that a thief's nickname?" asked Idda in alarm, "You're a thief?"

"Yes, he is," confirmed Yue.

"He steals things; that's what he does," added Fynn.

Ronan watched the pair of children in annoyance and so sighed. The difference between thieves and archaeologists sometimes seemed to be very vague.

There was little to do but stare at the blue sky and the hills with the trip underway.

In a moment between muttering and thinking aloud, Ronan was devising where to take that girl so they could continue their journey.

"Fynn, take the reins," Ronan ordered the marked boy.

The boy went to the front of the wagon and sat down next to his mentor.

"Yue, can you ride your horse?" the man asked. The girl looked at him, curious but pulled her horse closer to the cart so she could get on it and untie it. "Follow the road to those hills. Then, if you find a good place to camp, you come back here. Do you think you can make it?"

"Yes, of course, I can," she said with utmost confidence. Then, without another word, she ordered her horse to gallop off, losing herself fast on the roads.

Ronan laughed. "She's confident of herself."

"She's amazing," Fynn exclaimed with a grin.

"You two are. You have your talents too," Ronan replied, grinning.

As he spoke, he reached into the bottom of his backpack, causing Idda to widen her eyes in amazement.

"That's magic!" she exclaimed hesitantly.

"Just a little trick," the man said jokingly, sticking his whole arm into the bag. A clatter was heard from inside; metallic and coin clanking sounds could be heard until Ronan pulled out what he was looking for.

"Does that thing have magic in it?" asked Fynn.

"Something like that. Simply put, it's a hole I can keep things in."

Ronan in hands some papers and soon began to write.

"Fynn," Idda called to the boy. The girl sat on the edge of the cart, "Just so you know, I never talked about you or her."

"I know you didn't," the boy replied with a smile.

Idda smiled but soon frowned, "I don't want to believe that wretch turned me in. After all, I did for him..."

"Who aids a marked one is like serving the demons of the abyss," Ronan exclaimed with a sigh. "Those of the White Flame, they just beat you?"

Idda nodded, "And very hard."

"Then your real torture hadn't begun. I can assure you had spoken, and not only the truth, but anything they wished to hear..."

"I never believed they did things like that," Idda exclaimed in anguish.

"No one believes it," Ronan said with a sigh, "No one ever gets around to asking what happens to traitors or to us when they catch us."

Idda looked down, feeling guilty.

"Ronan, what was that thing that happened the other day?" the boy asked.

"What do you mean?"

"When we were waiting outside Idda's room, that strange feeling..."

"It was the resonance of a marked wizard," the mentor explained.

"There was a marked one there?"

"I'm sure a Tisvar's martyr was there, perhaps demanding answers from the Order."

Fynn was confused. "How did they find out so quickly?"

"They have their ways," Ronan exclaimed. "Birds, portals, runes. Even something like this."

Ronan then held up the paper he was writing on, and it soon turned into a small paper bird that quickly flew into the skies.

"Magic is an amazing thing," Idda exclaimed, amazed at that magic trick.

"It is, and in the hands of a marked one, it is an amazing thing..." expressed Ronan, smiling as he watched the bird lose itself in the sky. But then, Ronan added, "I still haven't received a reply from the last letter I sent. That's odd."

"I think everything must look a lot more powerful on one of you," Idda exclaimed.

"You're not wrong, girl," confirmed the trickster. "I've met unique mages, warriors, and tricksters, from Soramel to Lefran, from Mordia to Adwar. I met wizards like Yezar of Kahaviche, or swordsmen like Jarulff of Elror.

"Jarulff of Elror?" asked Idda in amazement, "Who slew the sea beast of Storhand?"

"Himself, and who keeps recounting that cursed feat repeatedly. Sometimes the beast changes in size and number of teeth or tentacles. They are all amazing, but sometimes we attack them for our prowess, the good and the terrible."

"Has it always been like this?" asked Fynn, "You know things about ancient people as an archaeologist, don't you?"

"I think there were better times," replied Ronan. "Sometimes we got along better, sometimes we got along a lot worse than we do now. If you ask me, most Kingdoms and Lands on Artia don't hate us, but they don't love us enough to let us live among them freely either."

Fynn watched the road, immersed in those ideas and thoughts Ronan shared with him.

"Then why are we here?"

After that question, all three fell silent.

"The day I have the answer to that question, I suppose I will finish my studies on our bloodline. Some stories speak of us being a curse to the world, others that we represent the gods on earth. As you may have noticed, both theories seem true. However, I feel that there is something else behind all this..."

"According to Lithal Cathedral, you are children of demons," Idda added sheepishly, remembering her lessons.

"I know a marked one who looks like he's the son of a demon," Ronan joked. "Lithal says we're that. Tisvar and the Council of Fives say we're abominations of a heretic god. According to the Solar Council, Darneter, the fire ancestor, says we're the embers of the ancient fire. All nonsense and shit. No offense..."

"Oh, I don't mind," exclaimed Idda nervously.

"What will happen to us in Adhaz?" asked Fynn shyly.

"Well, first, they'll be made to feel at home," exclaimed Ronan smilingly. "Then you will be brought before the Triumvirate."

"Triumvirate?"

"Who rules the city and all of us. One for each mark; Terdath of Navar, I believe, is the Fighter's leader. A few years ago, the previous person resigned from his position and hadn't found a suitable replacement. Itzala is the one who leads the Tricksters. Lastly, Buzen the Archmage is the one who rules over the mages, and he is also the one who presides over the triumvirate.

"After that?" asked Fynn once more.

"I suppose it's up to you; you can live in the city, sheltered and making normal lives, or opt for training and support Adhaz and his allies."

"And what about you?"

"About me?" asked Ronan, curious. "Well, I will continue to do my duties around the world."

"And will you visit again?" asked the boy.

Ronan watched him out of his eye and put his arm around the boy, "Of course, Fynn, I will visit you..."

The boy smiled, feeling more confident because of those words. However, there was insecurity growing inside him.

He still had doubts about what would happen. He still had bad feelings.