******

Josef gasped abruptly, as though he were being seized with pain. He stumbled backwards, almost tripping over an invisible bump on the floor.

"Josef?" I rose out of my chair, alarmed.

He opened his mouth but said nothing. He seemed to be fighting with himself, trying to spew words out. "He—he—" Josef stuttered before releasing a cry of frustration. "I can't say anything! My tongue is tied, literally."

"You know who the Pied Piper is?" I squawked.

"I have a suspicion. It may or may not be true, but it's our best chance to find the truth." He gnashed his teeth. "Yet I can't say anything. There's a binding put upon me. I thought that it would weaken once I slowly started to recover my memories. Unfortunately, that's definitely not the case."

I frowned. A binding. So that meant he couldn't talk? "Couldn't you try to write it down?"

To my dismay, Josef shook his head. "Basically, the binding locks down on all my thoughts connected to...it. Only when I'm caught off guard or when I'm not in my senses can it be taken advantage of. Even then, it would take an extremely skilled Silvertongue to convince me to reveal everything."

"So I have to figure out everything on my own?" I moaned. Just when I thought that I had found a companion to help me wade through the mystery.

"Essentially, yes." He eyed me a little dubiously, as if not quite trusting me to be capable of taking care of myself. Asides from my bad leg though, I was fine. "I can steer you towards the right direction, but it will ultimately be up to you to decide whatever happens from now."

"You're not helping," I grumbled.

"I'm trying to," he said, exasperated. "Look, we're the closest to figuring out who the Pied Piper is in nearly a century."

"What if the Pied Piper isn't real? What if he's just some...fable? An excuse for the plague?"

"He is real, Klaudia." The use of my given name on his tongue was a cold shock. "What else could explain the sudden disappearance of magic and children?"

"And how do I know that you're telling the truth?" I fixed a glare upon him.

"Because I want to recover my memories as much as you do!" he shouted. He tore his eyes away from me, ashamed. They glimmered sadly, like onyxes under the moonlight. "I—I don't know what's happening, but I will figure it out, even if I have to die doing so."

Silence crept over us, unwelcome and hostile. "I'm sorry," I offered pathetically. "I'm just so confused. A few months back, I was just a cripple trying to survive in Hamelin. And now...everything is so different."

"I understand. This is a whole new world now though—you have to learn to survive by using other methods."

We didn't say anything for a while. Background noises roared in my ears: the groaning of wood against the wind; the sharp, staccato plops droplets made in a water clock; and the cacophony of activity in the city from a distance. "Thank you, Josef," I finally said.

"Thank you. You are the reason why we're having this conversation in the first place." He offered me an appreciative smile; I returned it.

"In conclusion, I have to find out who the Pied Piper is." I returned the flute into the safety of my pouch. "I'll take my leave first.

"But of course, milady. Would it be permissible for me to go out and check if there are any skulking servants first though? It'd never do for the future Lady Himmel to be found in my room."

The frankness of his words made me prickle with heat. "Yes."

"Then I shall heed my lady's orders." He gave me a bow, then walked towards the exit, stepping out and looking around. "No one around. Come along."

I hobbled out uncertainly; Josef gave me another bow. Before I could say anything, he disappeared into his room and banged the door shut. I straightened myself and walked back to my own room.

******

I wasn't surprised to see Elise standing outside my door when I opened it in response to the incessant pounding. After all, I was running slightly late for my magic training; I had fallen into an exhausted coma as soon as I'd tumbled onto my bed. What I was surprised about was the fact that she wasn't angry or scowling or even irritated. She looked worried. Very worried.

And Elise never looked worried.

At least, not this worried. Even when she'd seen me off before I had left for the cleansing ritual.

She stepped into my room without warning and slammed the door to a close. I barely retracted my fingers in time. "Mistress Elise?" She didn't respond to my feeble greeting, opting to pace about the room instead. "I'm sorry, I fell asleep. I was just about to go—"

"Damn the lessons!" she growled with such ferocity that I wanted to crawl into a hole. "You know that's not why I'm here."

"Then why are you here?" I watched her tense, lithe figure cautiously. She had been the one who gave my flute to Josef, and she'd told me that she'd destroyed all of my items.

"I'm here to brief you on the ritual tomorrow night." Her eyes held the intensity of a storm raging in the centre of an ocean.

"Why is a briefing necessary?"

Elise's lips curled into a snarl. "Didn't you here the argument between Mar—Lord Himmel and me earlier? You have only been training for three months. What makes you think that Saint Bromilde will grant you your gift so easily?"

Of course. She'd mentioned that only sorcerers who'd trained over three years could claim their Affinities. I was sorely lacking the months that would make up for it. A heavy weight pressed upon my shoulders; my head drooped in defeat.

"Why do I need to learn of my Affinity so soon anyway?" I asked.

"I do not know. Lord Himmel seems desperate, even by our standards," she said shortly. "Of course, his actions could be justified considering that we have lost so many people throughout the years. However...Did anything happen during the cleansing ritual?"

I wrapped my arms around myself, shielding myself from an unseen cold. Should I or shouldn't I tell her the truth about Olsterhein?

"Well?"

I took in a deep breath, steeling myself. "There is something," I admitted slowly. I supposed that Markus would eventually tell her about the village anyway, so I narrated the most significant event throughout the week to Elise. The helplessness still showed through the cracks in my voice, but it was mostly contained.

When I was done, Elise's brows were drawn together. "You said that Lord Himmel had tried to stop you," she said. "You were holding onto your Medium at that time."

My fingers groped the air; I relived the moment where I was scrabbling towards the village. My flute had been in my hands. "Yes."

Her expression shifted ever so slightly. Into something unreadable, but something frightening all the same. "I didn't expect it to occur so soon..." she mumbled.

"Expect what?"

"The testing of your Affinity," she resumed sharply.

"Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" There was the threat of power laced in her words. Although I wanted to question her further, I knew that it would most likely end up with me being reduced into an unconscious heap, and she would just slip away and greet me like nothing had happened in the morning. I still had to remind myself that she was a Magus with decades worth of experience stacked atop mine—there was no way I could outmanoeuvre her, even if I took her by surprise.

"All right. So what can I expect from the test, if you're here to brief me?" I limped over to a nearby stool, sinking into it with a relieved sigh.

"Tomorrow evening, I willl come to take you to the Fountain. There will be Seekers. They will use your connection with its magic to allow you to commune directly with our guardian—Saint Bromilde. From there, you must face whatever tests she has for you, and if she deems you worthy, you shall be granted with your Affinity."

The idea of talking to a saint in person was preposterous. However, the look on Elise's face told me otherwise. I clamped down on my fear, trying to not let it show. "Anything else I need to know?"

"When you test for your Affinity, Saint Bromilde will demand something of you. It can be anything-but it can also be bargained. Choose your words wisely, for something that seems trivial at first may prove to have dire consequences on your life later."

"Is that why there are so few sorcerers nowadays?" I added sarcastically.

"Partially, yes." Elise's tone was humourless. "Many of our trainees had lost themselves for lack of a better brain. I hope you won't be one of them."

"I have no intention of doing so," I answered, idly catching one lock of my curls and twirling it around my finger. "But what happens if Saint Bromilde refuses to grant me my Affinity?"

"Then you'll have to perform the ritual all over again when you're better prepared," she said grimly. "And you'll have to throw in more payment." She huffed in irritation, starting to pace about the room. Watching her going around in circles made my head swim, so I observed an intricate painting of a sprawling forest slumbering peacefully under a high sun across the room. A painful reminder of what life was like before the plague.

"I should have argued with him," Elise said abruptly. She was staring at the painting too, spine rigid and arms folded across her chest. "This is absolute madness. We can't risk so much, even though circumstances has changed."

"Mistress Elise, I'll be fine." She sounded genuinely concerned. Concerned enough that I was beginning to doubt if she truly was the one who handed my flute to Josef.

At any rate, she was a valuable ally at the moment. I couldn't risk her antagonising me now, not when I still needed her.

"I certainly hope so." She wheeled around, pinning her gaze on me. "For now, get some rest. You'll certainly need it. No need for lessons tomorrow. Save all the energy that you can."

I inclined my head. "Thank you."

She managed a joyless smile. "Don't thank me just yet. Goodbye for now, Klaudia."

"And to you."

With that, she exited my room, leaving me alone with my conflicting thoughts.

******