Hump hammered his Staff of Damnation against the ground, the runes of Loften lighting up along the shaft, shining brightly with fire essence. The crystal focus boiled like lava, and power radiated from the gold tier item.

The world took on a purple hue as Hump watched Brianna and the guards step forward. They seemed so slow to him now, and everything around him much clearer, like an extra layer of sharpness added to the details. He could make out the polish on Brianna’s armour, the missing belt buckle on one of the guards, and the fear in their eyes as realisation dawned on them.

This was not a fight they could win.

Essence rose off Hump in gentle streams, cloaking him an aura of purple mist. It grew thicker by the moment, packed full of his essence, will, and his unwavering intent. The essence of the world became clearer too, like faint glittering light all around him. He called it to his command, a wind picking up around him as it swept toward him, billowing his Springleaf Cloak and hair, adding it to his soul manifestation. It joined easily, its own intent overridden with hardly even a thought. it was natural to obey him.

Beside him, Celaine used Spring Step to leap onto the tavern rooftop. The guards flinched, directing their blades upward as if expecting an attack. It didn’t come.

“Do not waver!” Brianna called. “The gods are with us, men!”

Hump only allowed her to take one more step. With his soul enveloping him, he projected it outward, extending its domineering effect toward the guards and Brianna.

It bore down on them like a force. Immediately, half fell to their knees, while the others struggled to remain upright. These were no Chosen or practitioners—they were defenceless. All they could do was scream and gasp as their souls were crushed beneath his will. Brianna—the Chosen of Law—was the only one to stand firm, but her sword shook.

“Who… who are you?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“As I told you before, I am Wizard Humphrey, and we’re not warlocks,” Hump said again. “Please, just let us pass and nobody has to get hurt. We have no malicious intentions.”

She shook her head. “I do not believe you. This power is not natural. You’re a heretic, a thief of power that only those Chosen by the gods should command. A warlock. I would die before I let such evil leave before my eyes.”

“And would you send your men to their deaths too?” Hump asked. He looked over the cowering guards. “Would you be willing to die here with her?”

They said nothing, but they didn’t need to. The hesitation was clear as day in their eyes. They were town guards, not warriors. This was beyond them.

Essence erupted up Brianna’s sword, forming an ethereal blade around her own, extending its reach and widening. The same glow surrounded her, clear to Hump’s enhanced senses.

Hump was about to let loose a warning shot when a flash of shadow descended behind her. Celaine was there, wrapped in her cloak and shadows. She held Kassius’ dagger to Brianna’s neck.

“Drop your sword,” Celaine said.

Brianna’s face turned from fearful to furious. She didn’t move, but then Celaine pressed slightly, the cold edge touching her neck. Biting her lip, Brianna released the sword, letting it clatter to the stones below.

“On the ground,” Celaine said. “Face down.”

Brianna did as she was instructed. “You won’t get away with this.”

“Move, and you won’t get up again,” Celaine said. She raised her voice, addressing the guards. “All of you drop your weapons.”

They did as instructed, dropping them and then backing away, their hands up. One begged for mercy, but neither Celaine nor Hump replied. It certainly didn’t make him feel good about the situation, but what choice did they have.

Hump called back his essence, absorbing his soul and power like a breath. His strength faded, the sharpness of his vision returned to normal, and the purple hue disappeared. The essence vanished from his staff, the crystal becoming clear once more.

“I’ll get the horses,” Hump said. He opened the stables, finding a terrified stableboy hiding inside Prancer’s stable. He stared up at Hump with wide eyes.

“P-please.”

“I’m not going to hurt you kid,” Hump said, taking Prancer by the reins and leading him out. He did the same with Thistle, then took both horses out of the stable and onto the main road. They mounted up as the guards and Brianna watched on.

“We’re really not warlocks,” Hump said. “I’m sorry it went like this. If you have any honour in you, contact Countess Daston before you send people after us. We serve the kingdom, just as you do.”

And then they were off.

Behind them, they heard Brianna’s furious roars. “Up! All of you, get up!”

Hump glanced over his shoulder to see the guards fumble onto the road, but they had no fight in them. No desire to chase.

“They’ll be after us,” Celaine called from atop her horse beside him. “Word of a huntress and wizard in the area will spread. It won’t be hard to identify us, especially not after you gave your name.”

Hump frowned. She was right, yet the alternative would have been to remain in Suncrest and allow Nishari to be discovered. They had no choice.

“So long as we make it through the Vonhold Pass and into the Charred Heights first, it won’t matter. Nobody in their right mind would pursue us there.”

“I still can’t believe she just assumed we were warlocks,” Celaine said furiously.

“This is nothing new,” Hump said. “Go back a hundred years and wizards were still getting burned at the stake. The Borderlands is a dangerous place, run by power-starved nobles and fanatical Chosen. With any luck, Lady Pembrake was just sane enough to send word to Countess Daston before she sets a bounty on our head.”

***

They rode hard for most of the day, only resting the horses when they had to. While Hump didn’t expect Brianna to pursue them, one could never be too careful, and the more distance he had between them and Suncrest the better he would feel. That didn’t mean they were out of trouble though. It wouldn’t be difficult for Brianna to find out where they were heading. He’d discussed Vonhold with the tavernkeeper, and there was nothing else north but the Fallen Lands. He doubted any Chosen of Vesta were close by, which meant they had to remain ahead of the news and find a way out of Vonhold quickly. If that failed, it would be a long journey for another access point to the Charred Heights.

They only stopped come evening to make camp. The sun was almost down, though Hump no longer felt so hindered by the dark. He had more than enough essence to spare if they needed light, and Celaine’s night vision was better than his on a good day anyway.

The location wasn’t exactly hidden, only a hundred paces off the road and in a spot of trees by the river, which left them reliant on his magic. They divided roles, Celaine retracing their steps to check for pursuers and conceal any sign of a trail, while he set about creating a layered illusion around their camp.

Hidden Fire was always his go to spell for the job, capable of concealing a fire and the people around it so long as they didn’t move too much. Combined with Disruptor Veil—the spell he’d discovered in one of the warlock bases—he could also muffle any sound and essence usage. They would be all but impossible to find.

At least, that was the theory. In practice, it was a little more difficult to get the spells to work than he’d planned.

“Nisha, stop it!” he snapped.

The dragon chased his staff as he tried to mark runes in the ground, biting and ripping at it.

Play. Play. Play.

“We’ll play later,” he said. “Let me focus on this for now.”

She sat back and looked up at him, head tilted mischievously. Hump narrowed his eyes at her, then turned back to the formation. He dragged his staff against the ground…

And Nisha barrelled into it.

Play.

Hump sighed. “Right.”

He gave up on his spell and focused on some training with Nishari instead, teaching her some basic commands. Despite her age, she was incredibly intelligent, and through a combination of their bond and his guidance it was a simple matter to get her to understand what he wanted. Unfortunately, the moment his attention went to something else that went out the window. In the town with other people around, she knew she had to be quiet and behaved. Out here in the middle of nowhere… not so much. Food worked, but it wasn’t enough to keep her busy long enough to finish formations.

There was little light left when Celaine returned an hour later, emerging from the trees like a wraith. The moment Nisha saw her, she charged, flapping her wings excitedly and jumping Celaine’s leg. The dragon couldn’t fly yet, though she was getting more and more lift by the day.

Celaine hushed her, squatting down to pet her while she gave a report. She’d discovered gnoll tracks nearby, probably a day old, and had seen nobody on the road. Hump decided to take that as good news.

“We’ll be alright as long as we keep up the pace and hide our campsites well,” Hump said.

“Speaking of which, what happened here?” Celaine looked over the ruins of Hump’s attempt at a formation.

Scuffed patches of dirt and grass. Half drawn runes carved apart by small claws. Scattered wood where he’d attempted to build a fire.

“Have you ever tried to get anything done with a dragon attacking you?” Hump said, only half feigning his exhaustion.

Celaine snorted. “Come here Nisha. Let’s give Hump a minute to get his act together.”

The little dragon raced at Celaine, flapping her wings and leaping at her. Celaine dodged back, slapping at her thighs, and urging Nisha to give chase. Nisha threw herself into the chase, huffing and hissing as she struggled to keep up. Celaine was far too fast, but that didn’t stop the little dragon from trying. Hump laughed as he watched, then got back to work.

***

Brianna Pemdrake had never been so furious. Furious that the warlocks had escaped, but even more furious at herself. She’d allowed fear to get the better of her, wilfully dropping her weapon. There was no greater shame!

She pressed her wax seal down on the envelope, closing it and adding it to the pile on her desk. Inside was a request that would go up in every adventurers guild within a hundred miles before the end of the week, a bounty placed on both their heads. Her failure would be publicised throughout the region—that was her penance—but they would not escape.

With the final letter sealed, she paused, taking a breath. For a moment, she tried to forget her anger. If she was wrong about them, and the two were truly on a mission from Countess Daston herself, then she could lose even Suncrest for this. She remembered the strength she’d felt—that domineering presence that she could do nothing but quiver before. He had spared her, and her guards. Perhaps she had been too hasty in her accusations, but the line between wizard and warlock was all but a technicality. The kingdom had allowed wizards to exist once again, and Sheercliff had reaped the price of that.

But it was the law.

She took out a fresh sheet of paper and wrote a new letter, this time to Countess Daston. In it, she included the events that had come to pass, and requested her confirmation as soon as possible. Controlling her anger, she stepped out into the hall and handed the letter to her assistant. The couriers were already waiting downstairs, her fastest previously destined for Vonhold, would now go to Sheercliff City instead. The bounties could wait.

She closed the door, once again alone in her office. A single essence stone lamp illuminated the room in a faint yellow glow. She slammed a fist against the wall, relishing in the pain as she struck stone. She bit her lip hard, fighting against her rage as she removed her shirt, then approached the shrine of Astrea built into a small cabinet to the side of her office. Enclosed within was a statue of the goddess and a leather flail whip. She took the handle and gripped it tightly, the leather creaking in her palm.

Taking a breath, she calmed herself.

“Astrea forgive me,” she murmured. “I was not strong enough.”

She swung the whip over her shoulder, striking her bare back. Pain seared through her and she inhaled sharply, relishing in it. Blood ran down her back, washing away her sins, soothing her anger at herself.

“Forgive me,” she said, striking herself again. She repeated it, over and over, until finally her heart felt at ease. For a long moment, she knelt there in silence, head bowed to the statue of Astrea. She held the whip out, letting blood drip into a small bowl at the feet of the statue until it was full, then she bowed once more.

The door clicked open behind her, and she whirled around furiously, expecting to find her assistant. Instead, a man strode inside. He wore a long coat of black leather, heavily tattooed hands visible. It was open at the neck to reveal a large essence stone amulet. His boots thudded against the wooden floor as he walked.

Brianna stood, eyes widening, heart racing.

“You are Brianna Pembroke, correct?” His voice was surprisingly soft, despite his appearance. He was clean shaven and tall, his skin unmarred by battle, despite his muscular figure and the sword at his hip.

She stared at him, a mixture of fear and anger in her. She forced herself to remain calm, but something about this man made her very afraid. But she would not back down again.

“Indeed I am,” she managed, hiding her fear. “Who might you be, and why are you in my office?”

“My name is Winston Irons,” he said. “I am here in search of a wizard. I believe…” he trailed off as he saw the guild request on her desk. “I believe they passed through here.”

There was a smile on his face now, as he opened one of her letters.

“Indeed one did, along with a shadow huntress of some sort. They were both young yet very powerful. Warlocks—I’m certain of it.”

“Is that so?”

Brianna frowned. “Forgive me, but I am not familiar with your name. Are you with the Pantheon?”

The man’s grin widened. “Oh no. Not at all.” His irises went suddenly black, the whites of his eyes filling with tiny red glyphs.

Brianna gasped, stumbling back into her shrine, toppling the statue.

“What do you want?” she whispered.

“I want the wizard, Brianna, and you’re going to tell me everything you know.”