Kasos paused in the entryway, a tingling sensation in the back of his mind warning him of something. It only took him a moment to register what he’d subconsciously sensed, and he relaxed a little. The mana was foreign, if not completely unfamiliar.

He turned to the shadows in the hall's corner, if he wasn’t specifically looking for it he would never have noticed they were slightly too thick, “You can come out now,” he said feigning relaxation as he leaned against the door frame.

His Abilities weren’t great for combat and he wasn’t any better himself. Technical skill he might have in spades, but he lacked the temperament to fight. However, he’d found that most fights could be avoided by acting like you weren’t worried about it. The right attitude could scare off most people. Nobody wanted their day ruined, even if from only ‘minor’ injuries.

The shadows didn’t dissipate as he’d halfway expected. Instead, their control was relinquished, rising to the ceiling and revealing itself as smoke while laying the woman behind naked to his eyes. Her dark hair and dusky skin told him what he’d already known. She was foreign to Korfyi. Her mana and what he’d gazed of her on the Lines had told him that she’d been running all over the area, doing work in both Crotenus, Legea, even going all the way to the capital for a few jobs.

“You must be Kasos,” she said in lightly accented in Fiyan.

Kasos ran his senses over her once more, suddenly suspecting that he’d missed an item, but no. She carried no enchanted items on her. In fact, she wielded no noticeable powers. Even now there was only a faint hint of her mana on the Lines. Impressive, even for a smoke-specialist.

“You speak well for a newcomer,” he replied.

She cocked her head slightly, “I put in a lot of effort.”

He nodded, “Very good. Yes, I am Kasos Dáskalos and you are?”

“My name is Pashar,” she replied, cocking her head as she narrowed her gaze. He felt her soul-sight rove over him, though he wouldn’t exactly call her touch subtle. Almost deliberately so. He knew she was picking up a lot of information about him from just their proximity, doubtless Pashar thought she was gaining more out of their talk than he was. She would be wrong.

With every second, he further parsed her strange and foreign powers. Every moment was a chance for him to workout the puzzle and place her power compared to ones he knew. More importantly, he knew that the strength of her power was less useful than the application of it. He knew of some Smoke users that could brute force encounters, filling rooms with toxic fumes, and he knew some that specialized in stealth, hiding within the depths of their haze.

She was neither. Or maybe both. Her Ideation had fully settled into her as a true Concept allowing her flexibility and strength he’d never seen in untrained Braced.

“So…” Pashar continued pushing off the wall and stepped closer, her posture relaxed and at ease. “You can help Ranvir.”

“Potentially.”

“But you need him to put in genuine effort, to be willing to re-enter his pain-wracked body?”

Kasos wet his lips as he stared across at the assassin. She wasn’t a woman afraid of fights, or worried about what a few broken bones would do to her. She was fast, stealthy, and deadly. Highly trained and highly skilled. And she’d been able to listen in on them in the kitchen. Did she intend for Ranvir to die? If so, he would have to run away, though he was particularly unsuited for escaping her.

Perhaps if he’d been stronger. Spent more of his time fighting and training. The rest of his life would come down to the next moments. He needed to keep his head cool. This wasn’t his first time his life was in danger. Perceived or not.

“It would certainly make my job easier. You were the one that came with him. Do you think he’ll have what it takes?”

Pashar took a slow breath and considered. Now that she was out of the light, he could better gauge her age as somewhere closer to Amalia than Ranvir. “If you know how to motivate him.”

Kasos left Ione’s mansion a couple days later. The sky had cleared, and the Rafting was low today, weakly flowing across the ground barely an inch above the soil. Behind him, he could hear the chatter of multiple voices, both children and grown up as they waited for the owner to show up.

“Ranvir’s like a moth, except he’s more particular in which flames will attract him.”

Returning to the orphanage, he found Elpir already waiting for him, “I’ve had the chair brought to his door.”

Kasos slipped down the hall, seeing the wheelchair resting in front of Ranvir’s cracked door. Voices faintly slipped through the ajar portal, and Kasos paused as he listened to the tale of Eurimedes and the Nine Crows. One of the classics, adapted from comedy to tragedy, done in books and plays, and he’d seen it advertised purely with music and a single actor.

The classics, while sometimes slipped out of fashion or changed, always returned. Kasos had spent such a huge amount of life among the strongest Braced in the world, either tracking or teaching for them, that he sometimes forgot that most of mankind did not fit within their immortal frames of mind.

And perhaps more important than that, even the oldest of the Braced had still been told the story of Eurimedes and the Nine Crows when they were children, just like their grandparents had told their parents the story.

“One flame is power, or mana, however you want to call it. Ranvir’s deeply fascinated by the application and use of his powers.”

Kasos patiently waited for Ranvir to finish the story. He was forced to take regular breaks to catch his breath, as even these small labors had become taxing. Enervated as he was, Ranvir’s breaks came more and more regularly until someone else finally lost their patience and started helping him read and Kasos heard Vasso's high voice for the first time.

He read surprisingly well for a child of his age, Kasos thought. Not that he was any kind of expert. A few times they were interrupted by happy squeals from a far younger voice, and far less coherent.

“Unfortunately, Ranvir’s current condition does not allow us to use this flame to inspire his hard work. So we will have to turn to the other fire.”

Kasos gently peeled the door open, “Ranvir, it’s Kasos. I’ve returned to talk.”

All three of them, Ranvir, his daughter, and Vasso, were all smushed together on his bed, so they could all read and look at the book’s pictures.

He fussed over the sleepy baby for a few more minutes before she got to sleep. With Vasso’s help, he managed to roll her up in a blanket so she was tucked safe and warm against his stomach.

Kasos could see the pain in his eyes as his labored breath filled the room, “Vasso, can you give us some space?”

The boy looked at Ranvir with wide-eyes before nodding and half running out of the room in poorly hid excitement.

“Ranvir, we’ve talked a bit over the last few days about what the future looks like for you, but I fear that it’s not really settled in,” Kasos began. The young father opened his mouth but Kasos held up a hand, “I say this because you still avoid spending any time in your body, feeling the pains and struggles, unless you have to.”

Ranvir closed his mouth, his hollow cheeks and tired eyes making him look more like a ghoul than a man.

“So I’ve come to hammer the idea home,” Kasos said, and pulled the chair into view.

“I don—“

“Too bad, you’re coming whether you like it or not.”

“What about Frija?”

“Well, she’s sleeping in your lap, wrapped in that blanket. She’s not going anywhere.”

Reluctantly, Ranvir came with him. Kasos got him in the wheelchair and underway, pushing him through the cobbled streets and out of the town proper, though the noises only seemed to grow louder. The chatter of crowds, the laughs and happy giggles.

“What is this?” Ranvir asked, clutching his baby girl tighter.

“You’ll see.”

Making the bend in the road, Ione’s mansion came into view, as well as several people relaxing on the patio. They briefly glanced at Ranvir and Kasos, but he’d lived there for two months now. Ranvir wasn’t really news anymore. Plus, Kasos suspected his infirmity made them uncomfortable.

“It’s a little event that Ione’s throwing,” Kasos explained as the banners came into view. “I don’t know how good your written Fiyan is…”

Ranvir would’ve turned to glare at him, but the effort of just slightly twisting had him shivering with effort, “Father/child competition.”

Kasos nodded and smiled.

Even as they approached, a little boy came running around the side of the house. He couldn’t have been more than a year older than Frija, judging from his unsteady run. Soon his father came running around the bend as well, sweeping the giggling and laughing boy up in his arms. They both watched as he blew raspberries into his stomach.

“Ranvir’s second flame—the much more potent one—is his daughter.”

“That is what I can give you back. It just takes a little work from you,” Kasos said. “So tell me, Ranvir, what is your relationship with your daughter worth?”