We have arrived close to where Master Wen first teleported us. The grassland lies ravaged around us, a charred expanse bearing silent witness to the clashes between powerful mages we escaped from the last time we were here. Ash drifts in the wind like snow, settling over twisted remains of the once vibrant flora. Blackened earth stretches to the horizon, dotted with craters filled with the residual mana of big spells. The ground has fractured where the spells collided, leaving fissures etched into the soil like a distorted spiderweb.

  There must have been another battle here long after we left, even though I can’t see anyone anymore. Silence reigns, broken only by the distant caws of the circling vultures.

  So. Where did all those people come from? I decide to head north this time, straight through the abandoned battlefield.

  The ground creaks under each of my steps through the ash-covered wasteland, sending little clouds of grey dust into the sky. It clings to my boots and stings in my lungs with every breath. But I ignore it. The sky above hangs low and colorless, smothered by a haze that hides the sun and blurs the world's edges. Broken trees poke through the ashes like skeletal fingers that lost their barky skin. The silence is thick and unnatural. Even sound has abandoned this place, smothered under the ashy clouds.

  It isn’t until the sky brightens on the horizon again that I become aware that something else strange is ongoing. Where are the corpses? Did the winners take them with them? Maybe they burnt them completely?

  Then I’m through. The ash clouds part like a curtain, revealing a shimmering lake. Its surface mirrors the bright midday sun, broken only by the occasional ripples of the breeze or the birds diving for fish.

  There are a lot of birds. A dance of wings unfolds over the glimmering waters. None of them are familiar to me.

  There are white ones the size of a pigeon with a cap of inky black crowning their heads but slender and more graceful frames, a vivid orange beak, and forked tails. They hover over the waters, emitting sharp cries before folding into sudden dives and slicing the surface with barely a splash. I smile when I catch Kylo’s gaze following them with interest, ears pointing upwards, the tiny claws of his shrunken form digging through the fabric and into my shoulders—a hunter evaluating new prey.

  Big blue-grey birds look at us suspiciously before vanishing beneath the waves like shadows, only to resurface a few steps away with silver prizes clenched in their hooked beaks. Others circle high, patient and regal, until they drop like thunderbolts, talons first, sending up a spray of water before they take flight. One of them climbs swiftly, flapping hard against the weight of an arm-long underwater horror. Its wings carve through the warm air as it flies further inland to disappear behind a stretch of shrubs and dunes.

  “Thousand lakes, huh?” I mutter.

  There are indeed a lot of them. They stretch before me like a shimmering chain, a thousand mirrors catching the sunlight and flinging it back into the sky. Each lake bleeds into the next. Some are wide and glassy, others narrow and winding like rivers frozen mid-breath. From the fringes of the ashy wasteland where I stand, the water seems endless—an intricate web of blue and silver that weaves its way to the horizon and disappears into the haze. Where is that city, though?

  I follow the lake shore, humming to myself, ignoring the snoring Kylo on my shoulders, who seems to have lost interest in the birds after a while. After hours of tracing the quiet curve along the whispering reeds and the gently lapping water, I find my first sign of civilization—a road half-hidden by time and wild growth. It emerges from a gap between shrubby trees and a hill like a forgotten thought. Its surface is paved with large, flat stones fitted tightly together, edges worn smooth, and covered in moss. On either side, ditches mark the boundaries, overgrown with grass and wildflowers. The sudden artificial order strikes me. It feels almost out of place against the unruly beauty of the lakes.

  I take a deep breath to steady myself. The city can’t be far now. I’m prepared. I’ve finished my first meridian and started my second in the month it took me to return. I’ve let all of the runes I can’t hide under my clothes fade and etched them elsewhere whenever possible. My light-sphere and light-beam runes feel awkward on my elbows instead of my hands. But the biggest issue is losing my invisibility runes. Well, I still can use them in a pinch if I need to hide, but without the runes around my eyes to limit the invisibility effect around my irises, they leave me blind to what is happening around me. I sigh. I envy Kylo, who can hide them under his fur. For some reason, I feel naked and exposed without them. Not good. After all, runes are just another tool. If I let them become a crutch, the rest of my skills could suffer, and I might become overconfident until they fail me when I least expect it. Maybe I should take this as a warning to keep sharp.

  I follow the winding road along the lake chain until I see something new in the distance. There are walls on a slightly elevated peninsula, surrounded by water from three sides, only attached to the mainland by a narrow stretch of grassland. The road joins others, like the branches of a tree whose trunk sprouts from a massive gate in the wall.

  I pause for a second. There are people here. Then I continue on when I realize that some of them seem to be about my age, maybe even slightly younger. They even look similar to me. I won’t stand out. Most seem to be waiting for the guards to grant them entrance into the city, pacing around in the slowly advancing queue.

  I stroll closer, exuding confidence in my steps as if I belong. I take my place in the line. Soon, I’m not even the last one to arrive anymore.

  I feel the crowd closing in around me. The pressure, an ever-shifting sea of voices, smells, and movement. For some reason, there seems to be an almost palpable tension in the air, mixed with the excitement of the people coming from far and wide to enter the city. Some look hopeful, others wary or resigned. A girl in patched trousers weaves her way between the adults, asking for alms. A woman with a woven basket drops a few copper coins into the girl's hand without looking. Her attention focused on the conversation with a man about how to prepare some traditional recipes. That’s why she also loses her purse to the street rat. The girl cuts the string, holding it to the woman's belt with smooth movements. Then she turns away, without even giving time to blink, before running away with none the wiser. She reminds me of myself when I was younger. Nearby, a group of monks, their robes stained with dust and ash, recite a repetitive mantra in some language I’ve never heard before.

  “Oh, gane laaah neta gome kee. Ooh, gane taah vena kane tee.”

  Some people cast them curious glances before turning away.

  The line shifts one step closer to the gatehouse. I look ahead at the heavy wooden doors guarded by men in black tunics. They seem to be checking incoming wares and collecting a gate toll. From time to time, when the noise becomes too much, they glare at the crowd to demand silence. But it never lasts long. Every time the people resume their conversations.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  The line shifts another step closer to the gatehouse. The breeze turns, and the stench of horseshit and iron reaches my nostrils, mingling with the earthy scent of the crowd. Kylo sneezes and turns his head to glare behind us with a gruff. Some children point at him, their eyes gleaming with wonder and excitement until their parents admonish them not to be rude. The boy scoffs. His sister pouts. I smile and wink at her when their parents aren’t looking. Then I turn forward again.

  The line shifts forward again. Some people around me sigh in relief when they realize we are close to the walls now. They tower over the gathered masses, a promised land of danger and opportunity. The bustle of it all feels like a steady and unrelenting pulse, both a comfort and a warning. I listen to the conversations, just another traveler, hidden in the crowd, unseen in plain sight as the world hums in anticipation.

  “Salt prices are rising again,” comments a potbellied merchant to a sleazy-looking colleague, also waiting in line. “Do you think it would be worth to trade in it?”

  “What? No, forget about that,” answers the sleazy-looking one, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. “I tried that. It isn’t worth it,” he laments. It would be more believable if he didn’t rearrange the tarp over his wagon to hide the pink and orange-hued crystals poking out on the side.

  “Why?” asks the potbellied one.

  I look at him dumbfounded. Didn’t he see that? Maybe not. He must have been too focused looking at the guards and his friend.

  “The market is too volatile,” explains the sleazy-looking one. “True, the prices are high now, but there is an instance in one of the city-owned dungeons that delvers encounter from time to time where it is possible to mine it. When that happens, they flood the market. Believe me. I once organized a caravan from the coastal cities on the other side of the desert, thinking I would make good money. But when I arrived here, they had encountered one of those instances just a day earlier, and nobody wanted to buy my salt.”

  “I see.” The other merchant looks disappointed. “It would even be worse now to cross the desert. Since the legion left, the bandits are getting bold.”

  “Yeah, I lose half of my earnings paying for security these days,” complains the sleazy one. “At this rate, I might stop traveling until the end of this succession war altogether.”

  “That could take a while. I heard someone found another imperial scion in some mana-less backwater kingdom. Some nobles are rallying behind him."

  What war now? My mind whirls, trying to make sense of the implications. Did the emperor die? And how? Did those rebels, he was so eager to battle, ambush him? Knowing that The Crow was involved, I knew it smelled fishy. They shouldn’t have trusted someone like him. Not that I care much about what happened to that man. I wonder who will grab power in this mess now, hopefully not someone related to The Crow.

  Could it be that Bae and Master Wen knew that something like this was about to happen? Maybe this is one of the reasons they sent me away so abruptly. Who cares? They could have explained it and not made me feel abandoned again.

  “I tell you, the power is shifting. At least the Han are keeping out of it, and now that those who held grudges have gotten them out of their system, the city has calmed down. It might be one of the best places to wait this out.” The merchants are still conversing.

  “I don’t know about that. I heard the Mountain Sage took a Lin as a disciple, forcing the Han to bring an expert from the eastern continent to teach at their academy. That’s why you see so many bastards flooding into the city these days to apply and try their luck.”

  I almost flinch. Those merchants are talking about me. I breathe out. Nobody here knows that.

  “Name?”

  There is no reason to worry.

  “Girl, we haven’t got all day,” says an annoyed-sounding voice. “Your name, please, or step aside.”

  I look up into the glaring eyes of a gruff-looking guard. I’ve arrived at the beginning of the line without realizing it.

  “Minae,” I answer out of habit.

  Shit! I should have selected a new name for my new persona. Well, at least it seems to be a common name around here.

  “Family name?”

  “Just Minae.”

  “Figures,” scoffs the guard. “So I guess you are another wishful country bumpkin who believes she is worthy to apply at our academy,” he sneers at me.

  “Yeah,” I answer, whatever will make them let me through and forget about me.

  “Entrance fee is one silver.”

  Steep. I toss him a coin from my new decoy pouch that I stitched together a few days ago and walk past.

  After stepping away from the entrance I pause. I seem to be in some merchant district. Smoke from nearby cookfires curls into the air, mixing with the scent of sweat, mud, and overripe melons from a vendor’s cart. I linger close to the wall, head low beneath my hood, listening more than watching. Voices rise and fall like birdsong around me.

  “Don’t mind that idiot. He is probably just envious of being too old to apply himself.”

  I turn around to the voice. A girl of about my age has stopped next to me.

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “The guard! I mean. Sorry. The rude one, I mean,” stammers the girl. I look at her, even more confused now. “Sorry, I’m Kenae. I heard you want to apply to the academy just like me, and I thought we could wait together for the monthly admission tests to begin.”

  “Sure, why not?” Someone a bit more local to show me around could be useful.

  The girl claps her hands together, seeming excited. “Cool! You know we still need to wait three days for them to open, right?”

  “Yeah, I know! I need to find an inn until then.”

  “Oh, sure, I know a place close to the academy that isn’t too expensive. But we have time to get there,” she says. “Have you ever been to the city before?”

  “No, it’s my first time.”

  “Wanna check out the clan stables in the noble district? They say the delegation from the eastern continent flew over on griffons!”

  “Sure, why not?” It may even be a good excuse to get a first impression of the lay of the land.

  I follow Kenae through winding alleys until the chatter around us softens, the alleys widen, and the cobbles underfoot get smoother and cleaner. After another turn, the noble district reveals itself fully, unfolding like an expensive painting in an art exposition. Tall townhouses line the quiet boulevards, their facades covered in marble and towering columns, with balconies wrought in delicate ironwork and windows polished like mirrors. The air carries the faint perfume of flowering gardens hidden behind high, finely trimmed hedges. A carriage passes slowly past us, their occupants hidden behind velvet curtains. I move carefully, feeling like an intruder in a place I don’t belong. My footsteps seem to echo in the hush. But Kenae keeps on walking without a care, so I follow her. We walk past towering mansion after towering mansion. The biggest one seems to occupy a whole city block. Domes and towers shine over the hedges in the bright afternoon sun. It’s also full of wards. I can even sense wards woven into the hedges that separate the estate from the street.

  “Who lives there?” I ask.

  “What? Oh. That is the Han estate,” answers Kenae. “Fancy, right?” She casts me a beaming smile.

  “Yeah, it is.” I suppress a gulp. There is no way I can break in there with brute force between all those wards and the high-ranking mages that must live there.

  “They say the young mistress Han will join the academy too, now that the new teachers there are better than ever. Isn’t that awesome?”

  “Yeah.

  “We may even have some classes together with her. They say she is an unrivaled genius.” Hmm, maybe joining that academy isn’t a bad idea after all. I need to play the long game to follow through with Master Wen’s quest. It might provide an excuse to get in there. “Come, we aren’t that far from the stables now.”

  The smell hits me first. Sun-warmed feathers and earth, with a sharp, musky edge that clings to the air like a storm. There is also the tang of leather and dried grass, mingled with the faint coppery scent of blood and raw meat. Whatever griffons are, they seem to feed them meat. Kylo pokes his nose out of my hood with interest.

  We stop at the edge of a courtyard, half-hidden behind the hedges. Kenae tries to peek through, signaling me to come closer.

  “Do you see that?” she asks in a hushed voice.

  I try to find out what she is pointing at, but there isn’t much to see. The rough branches prickle against my arms as I lean in for a better few. The stable doors are open just enough to catch flickers of movement inside—shifting shadows, the twitch of a feathered flank, the gleam of a golden talon in the low light. A soft snort echoes from within, deep and rumbling, followed by the unmistakable rasp of claws against stone, a big bird then. It shifts again before walking out into the sun. Not a bird. Since when do birds have four legs? What a strange beast. Kenae squeals in excitement. She looks at me. Her eyes open wide before she points at my shoulder.

  “What is that?”

  “What? Oh. Do you mean Kylo? He is a friend.”

  “How cute!” She leans closer and stubs his nose with a finger, making him snort. “Can I pet him?”

  “Sure, why not? As long as he lets you.”