Aris slipped inside first.
The interior was quiet and thankfully empty of people.
Polished stone floors reflected the light spilling in from tall windows. The walls were lined with carved images depicting merchants, scholars, and robed officials locked in eternal debate. Whatever this place was, it had been built to impress.
A civic building, I realized. Maybe a trade hall. Maybe a minor council chamber. The kind of place that buzzed with arguments and deals on normal days and stood empty when the city gathered to worship its savior.
Our footsteps echoed off the empty room.
We followed Aris, trusting she knew where to go.
She took the stairs two at a time, favoring her injured leg without slowing down. The boy followed close behind, one hand on the wall, the other wrapped around my hilt. His breathing was steady, but I could feel his heart through our bond.
Fast.
Too fast.
The chanting bled through the stone as we climbed. Thorne. Thorne. Thorne.
Each repetition carried a heavy weight. Not just power, but belief. The kind that bent people without them realizing it.
By the time we reached the upper levels, the sound was deafening.
Aris stopped at a rusted door near the top. She pressed her ear to it, waited, then pushed it open just enough to peer through.
Wind rushed in, whistling sharply.
She waved us forward.
The roof was broad and uneven, littered with loose gravel and broken masonry.
From here, the city unfolded beneath us in layers. The streets packed tight with bodies, banners stretched between pillars, torches burning even in the daylight.
At the center of it all stood a raised platform draped in white and gold.
I could feel him clearly now.
Thorne's Aether wasn't loud. It didn't flare or surge. But somehow, it was more intense. Like a weapon against a throat, one swing away from killing.
The boy crouched near the edge, careful to keep low.
Aris stayed standing, eyes darting around as if she were memorizing the exits.
And me?
I watched the boy.
The way his grip tightened.
The way his pulse spiked.
He wasn't just here to listen.
Whatever he was planning, he wanted to do it now. Right now.
If he was really going to try to reach Thorne from all the way up here….
I was going to have to stop my own wielder.
He wouldn't dare. I had to believe that. How the hell did he think he could assassinate Thorne from up here? Jumping would mean risking his own life.
"Hey Sword?" The boy asked, interrupting my thoughts.
"Yeah?"
"Do you see that?"
I followed his eyes to a banner that hung from the neighboring building and stretched all the way across the street to another building.
No. No way. That was his plan?
"If for some reason we have to escape, that's how we do it," the boy continued.
Liar.
"That's smart, right?" He asked. "Don't you think it will get us safely down. I'm light. I'm sure it could support my weight."
"Let's not think that far ahead," I warned. "For now, we watch the rally. Okay?"
"Right," the boy agreed, eyes staring straight ahead.
The crowd cheered even louder now, and I noticed movement on the stage. Lord Silas Thorne. He approached the front of the stage, dressed in a flowing purple robe.
He looked small from up here, but I'm sure he was easily twice the size of the boy.
Two of his guards stood behind him, looking over the crowd for any disturbances.
He spoke and his voice echoed out of the crowd of over ten thousand people. Thankfully, we were still close by and could hear him. The ones in the back of the crowd likely wouldn't hear him. But they would see him.
"Good people of Pralis, welcome!" He thundered.
The crowd erupted with a cheer.
The boy breathed in a deep breath, as if trying to control his emotions. I couldn't blame him. After all, the man below was the one who had killed his parents, even though he knew they were innocent. He was the man who had forced the boy to work for him.
Thorne was important in the grand scheme of things. Without him, the boy never would have come to that field to find me.
Sometimes fate worked things out perfectly.
Aris had a similar look of disgust on her face. She had yet to tell us why she was after Thorne, but I assumed it was because she had once been employed by him too.
"I know your kind," she had said. Because she had once been in the same position as the boy. That was why she'd stuck around for this long.
Thorne raised one hand, and the crowd obeyed instantly.
Silence fell like a held breath.
"I stand before you today," he began, voice warm and steady, "with a heavy heart."
"Last night, parts of our city suffered terrible losses," Thorne continued. "Fires. Violence. Fear. No citizen of Pralis should ever have to endure such things."
A murmur of agreement rolled through the crowd. I could sense the grief and loss between all of them.
"These were not acts committed by our city," Thorne said gently. "They were acts against it. Those…devils took advantage of us."
Oh, you clever bastard.
"There are those who lurk in the dark places of the world," he went on, "who despise order. Who fear progress. Who would rather see Pralis burn than accept a future they cannot control."
The boy's fists clenched, one around stone and the other around my hilt. This was painful for him to watch. Knowing the truth and being able to do nothing about it.
"And when such threats surface, they do not announce themselves. They hide among the innocent. They use our compassion as a shield. I swear to you," Thorne said, hand pressed to his chest. "My first priority, always, will be your safety. Of your homes. Your families."
The crowd exploded with cheering.
Thorne isn't just a leader to them, he is a god, I realized.
"Now, to show my support for the fallen, and support for the damage done to parts of our city, I would like to make an announcement."
The crowd slipped into silence once more.
Thorne smiled with a flash of bright, sharp teeth. "I will be hosting a series of duels. All who wish to participate are welcome. With each fight that occurs, I will donate 1,000 royal credits toward rebuilding the damages caused by the attacks."
Another round of cheers.
The boy wasn't listening anymore. He walked past Aris, his breathing heavy. Without a second thought, he jumped the distance between the two roofs, landing in a crouch.
The banner was right in front of him.
He brought me up, ready to cut the cord.
As if I'd let him do that. I pulled his arm backward, using all my will against him.
The boy stumbled backward and glared at me. "What're you doing, Sword? Do your job! Cut!"
"No."
The boy brought me up again, and I pulled his arm back once more.
"Stop that!" The boy screamed, trying to lift his arm.
I resisted.
"You'll get yourself killed. This is exactly how my other wielders died! I couldn't stop them without the connection that we have. But I can stop you. You're not doing this."
The boy dropped to his knees. "He has to die. I have to kill him now. You don't understand what he's done to me."
Tears were escaping his eyes now. He was frustrated.
I had to make him understand.
"You will kill him. But now is not the time. This is not the way. He has set this rally up for this exact moment. He knows you better than you think. He is expecting you to attack at any moment now."
The boy frowned, confused.
"But you will not attack. Boy, our future is bright. Do not ruin what we have now. Please."
He nodded, wiping away his tears. "Then what? What is the plan? How will I give that devil of a man what he deserves?"
"The duel. We will join it. Kill the one he chooses for his champion. He knows you to be weak. He will not expect you to be the champion.
"Then, and only then, will we face him. Thorne will get what he deserves. But you have to trust me on this."
"I trust you."
"Good. Then let us prepare."