Professor Klewoei sauntered across the floor, a heavy ledger tucked under her arm. Her black frock coat, snug at the waist, flowed in a long arc. The white lace spilling from the sleeves and collar looked like dollops of whipped cream.

  "Good afternoon, students. I hope you have all studied well." She placed the ledger on the lectern. It thumped like the slamming of a tomb door. "On your desk, you will find your final examination. Please do not commence until I have said you may begin."

  Arcane Artifacts. I swallowed, my mouth as dry as a desert without rain. This test would count for thirty-five percent of our grade. Professor Klewoei opened the ledger, the scratching of a quill nib on paper becoming loud in the quiet room. I reached for my own and tapped it on the side of the desk. What I wouldn't give for a cup of tea. Or a glass of water. Or an exemption from this exam.

  I glanced over to my left at Miseris, who was seated about ten feet away. She caught my eye and grimaced, her face a portrait of misery. I smiled at her, trying to offer some measure of support. We'd both been working hard for this class. If I did poorly, it was only because I couldn't remember all the differences between chimes and talismans. And how was I supposed to give an objective answer about ethical implications concerning the use of ancient artifacts when the subject was so subjective?

  On my right, an equal distance away, Ashkan sat ramrod straight, eyes closed, face smooth and serene. He was either meditating, praying, or half-asleep. Either way, he looked composed.

  The professor's inkwell clicked shut. "You may begin."

  I took a deep breath and flipped over the packet. My heart beat a rapid rhythm against my ribs. Quills scratched against parchment as we wrote our names.

  1) Explain the differences between an amulet, a talisman, and a chime, and provide one example of each.

  Thank the gods. At least I hadn't forgotten those yet. I scribbled my answers, the words flowing smoothly. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

  2) How is a scrying bowl different from a crystal ball?

  I paused. The answer had something to do with the materials used in their creation. The scrying bowl was made of stone, the crystal ball of quartz. And the scrying bowl had to be filled with water. But if they both served the same function, what did the materials matter? I wrote the information down. It wasn't wrong, but it didn't seem comprehensive, either.

  3) In the case of the artifact known as a wishing coin, explain the ethical implications concerning the use of the item and make a recommendation.

  My hand froze. I tapped my quill against my teeth. A wishing coin was a type of amulet. They were supposed to grant wishes, but they didn't always work, or at least not in the way one would expect. You had to be very careful when making a wish. There'd been cases of people wishing themselves or others into the grave. They were banned in most places because of their unpredictability. Not wanting to linger too long, I wrote a quick response.

  The exam went on in this fashion, with simple questions followed by more complex ones. My fingers ached from gripping the quill. Two hours later, the bell rang out. When I looked up from the last page, my vision swam with a million miniscule dots.

  "Please place your exam packets on my desk as you exit the room," Professor Klewoei announced. "Class dismissed."

  I stacked my papers on top of the pile, careful not to smear the still-wet ink. Then I joined the procession of students who filed out of the lecture hall.

  "Well?" Miseris asked as she caught up to me. "How do you think you did?"

  "I'm not sure," I admitted. "I knew some information regarding all of the questions, but I'm not confident I got all the answers correct."

  "I hope I passed," she said with a sigh.

  "You worked hard," I assured her. "I'm sure you did well."

  Ashkan walked so quietly beside us that neither Miseris nor I noticed him until he spoke. "It depends on the class average. She might curve the results upward or downward."

  I gave him a curious look. "What about you? How do you think you did?"

  His brow rose a fraction. "I think I did fine."

  I wanted to ask him more about his answers, but Miseris cut me off, "Well, I'm going home. I need a nap before my shift. Tonight is going to be mad."

  "Oh?" I asked, confused.

  She stared at me, her face slack with disbelief. "Have you been under a rock? The Artisan's Haven is tonight, in the market. Everybody's going to be there. I'll be at The Roaring Witch with a giant tip jar, of course."

  I remembered seeing a poster about that somewhere. I'd forgotten it was tonight. The Artisan's Haven was a gathering of artisans from around the country who came to display their wares. The main attraction was all the fine art, but it was also known for amazing food. Essentially, it was like the regular Nelorismel marketplace, but cranked into overdrive.

  "I'll be there," Ashkan said. "My sister and brother will be too."

  "Ace! Hope to see you all later," Miseris called, waving as she disappeared down a corridor. We watched her go, then headed in the opposite direction toward our next class.

  We only passed a handful of students as we descended into the Academy's crypts. It was quiet down there, the air cool and damp. Flames flickered in wall lanterns, the shapes guttering and casting dancing shadows. Our footsteps echoed through the tunnel. The quieter it was, the more unnerving it seemed. Thankfully, the voices of students carried from the open doorway of the classroom.

  Professor Van Frose was already inside, seated at her desk. A few students milled around, waiting for the exam to start. They were quiet, their expressions ranging from confident to anxious. I spotted Viktor and Shaye standing in the back corner. The former's expression was abnormally serious, his grey eyes narrowed, brows knitted together. He was saying something to Shaye, who was facing away from us. I nudged Ashkan and we moved to join them.

  "Hey, guys," I greeted.

  Shaye jumped, then turned to us. "Hello." Immediately, I could tell something was wrong. Her usually cheerful voice was nasally. Her skin was pale, her eyes ringed with dark circles. The tip of her nose was red, and she sniffled.

  "Are you sick?" I asked, reaching out to feel her forehead. It wasn't hot; it was actually kind of cold.

  She pulled away from my hand. "It's nothing."

  Viktor's mouth pressed into a thin line. "It's not nothing. She's got icelung."

  I stared at him. "Ice– What?"

  "Icelung," he repeated. "It's common around this time of year. The cold and wet weather, it gets in your chest, gives you the chills. It's not severe, but it can really make you feel like shite. She needs to rest."

  "I'm fine," Shaye insisted. She sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "I just need to push through this exam."

  "You should go home," Ashkan said. "There are worse things than missing a test. You could reschedule."

  She shook her head. "No, I'm already here. And if I miss this, I could fail the course. I've done too much studying to fail."

  Viktor stepped closer, his hands fisted at his sides. "And what happens if you pass out from exhaustion and end up with something worse? Then what?"

  "That won't happen."

  "It could."

  Ashkan cut in, "She can decide for herself, Vik. Don't push her."

  Viktor sighed. "Sorry. I'm just worried about you."

  "I'm going to write it," she decided, her voice firm. "It's only two hours, and I took some medicine this morning."

  He ran a hand over his face, but nodded. "If you're sure."

  "I'm sure."

  We were saved from further debate when Professor Van Frose stood. "Students, please take your seats."

  The class scrambled to sit in their assigned chairs, and we all quieted. The professor picked up a stack of exam packets and threw it high into the air. Papers rained down towards each desk, and I caught mine.

  "And... Begin," the professor called, her voice ringing through the room. I flipped open the cover.

  1) What are the main differences between brews, elixirs, philters, tinctures, and tonics?

  That was a no-brainer. I wrote out my answer to the question, and the next, and the one after that. My mind whirred as I flew through the pages. Before I knew it, two hours had passed. The last question was about the properties of wortcinl?can, which was an herb used in a lot of healing tonics. I finished writing just as the bell rang.

  Professor Van Frose took her time collecting the exams. "Congratulations. You are all still alive," she said with a laugh. "Dismissed. I wish you all the best of luck in your future studies."

  We packed our bags and hurried out. Shaye, despite her assurances, did look sick. She was shivering. Viktor offered his arm, and she accepted, leaning into his side.

  "I told you, you should've gone home," he said.

  She sighed. "I know. But I did it."

  "Yeah, and now you're going to bed."

  She giggled, which quickly dissolved into a coughing fit.

  "I'd better not see you at the market tonight," Ashkan told her.

  "Me neither," Viktor agreed. "Get better, yeah?"

  "Thanks," she replied. "You lot be safe. It'll be crowded, and the pickpockets will be out in force."

  "We'll keep an eye out," Ashkan assured.

  As the four of us approached the academy entrance, Headmaster Gunthren appeared from around a corner. He waved, a smile on his face.

  "Afternoon, students," he greeted.

  "Headmaster," we chorused.

  "My apologies, I must hurry off to a meeting. But I wish to extend my congratulations. You all have nearly completed your first semester of the year, and you should be proud of your achievements."

  We all smiled and thanked him.

  "Good luck in the new year!" he called over his shoulder as he headed down the hall.

  Outside, the afternoon sun was high overhead, and a brisk wind blew. The courtyard was filled with students who had finished their finals, and everyone was chatting excitedly. Viktor walked Shaye home, then had to leave to go help his sister prepare for her exhibit at the festival. Ashkan and I tailed Shaye inside her house. Her parents were still at work, but her two youngest brothers were home.

  "Look who's back," Fenryk spoke up from his spot on the couch. A book lay open on his lap.

  "Hi," she replied, sounding tired.

  "Still under the weather, eh?" he asked, noticing her state. "I told you to stay in bed."

  "You know I can't," she sighed.

  "It's just icelung," Ashkan explained.

  Fenryk shook his head. "Figures. It's the season for it."

  Kelton appeared from the kitchen, a mug in hand. "Blimey. Shaye, you don't look good."

  "Thanks," she replied flatly.

  "Here." He offered her the cup. "I reckon you need this more than I do."

  "What is it?"

  "Poison," he deadpanned.

  Shaye rolled her eyes and took the mug. It was clearly some sort of herbal tea. "Oh, well, thank goodness. I was really hoping to expedite the process."

  "And with that, let's get you to bed," Ashkan interjected.

  I followed him and Shaye as they climbed the steps. The walls were decorated with pictures of family and friends. A vase filled with fresh flowers sat on a small table. At the end of the hallway, Shaye stopped and turned the knob.

  "You'll have to excuse the mess," she said, flipping on the light. The room was cozy but cluttered. It smelled like a mixture of floral perfume and dusty books. Clothes were scattered everywhere, and the bed was unmade. It all seemed very uncharacteristic of her. She set the mug down on the nightstand and flopped onto her mattress.

  "I'm sure Viktor would've cleaned this for you," Ashkan commented with a smirk.

  She sat up right away. "That's enough of that."

  "Do you need anything?" I asked, moving aside a pile of blankets to sit next to her. "Anything we can get you?"

  "No, but thank you." She paused to think. "Actually, could you check if there's any mail for me?"

  "We can do that," Ashkan replied.

  She settled back against the pillows. "Thank you."

  We headed downstairs, and Ashkan checked the mail slot outside. There was a small bundle of letters. Mostly advertisements and bills. He brought them in and set them on the kitchen counter. On the bottom of the pile, he found an envelope addressed to Shaye. It was stamped with a fancy logo.

  "What's this?" he wondered, holding it up.

  I examined the seal. "It looks important."

  He flipped it over and read the back. "It's for her, anyway."

  We ascended the stairs and re-entered her bedroom. Shaye was still lying on the bed, eyes closed. She opened them and glanced up as we entered.

  "Any mail?"

  Ashkan held out the letter. "Just this."

  She took it, looking confused. She tore it open and pulled out a single sheet of pale violet parchment. After reading, her eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped. Then, with no warning, she shrieked. "Oh my gods! Oh my GODS!"

  Ashkan and I both flinched and covered our ears.

  "What? What is it?" I asked, alarmed.

  "This is– It's–" she stuttered. "It's– He asked me– It's him!"

  "Calm down, what are you talking about?" Ashkan questioned while reaching out to steady her.

  She waved the paper in the air. "Yevrani! He sent me a letter!"

  His face went blank. "The fashion bloke?"

  "Only my favourite one! I wrote to him this summer and never heard back until now. I can't believe he wrote me... This is a dream..." She flopped back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling, a grin spreading across her face. "The garments I made for the Nyvar Festival, he likes them... Hanokub Yevrani actually likes my designs..."

  "Wow," I exclaimed. "That's great, Shaye!"

  She hugged the letter to her chest and closed her eyes. "I can't believe it. Oh, this is the best news I've ever gotten! Thank the gods for mail!"

  Ashkan chuckled. "Congratulations. We're happy for you." He then carefully plucked the letter from her fingers.

  "Hey!" she protested, trying to grab it. "Careful with that!"

  He set the paper on the vanity. "Sleep now."

  She pressed her hands to her temples. "How can I rest at a time like this?! He's written me back!"

  "It'll be there when you wake up."

  "But I want to read it again. Just once."

  "Nope. Sleep."

  "But–"

  Ashkan gave her a stern look, arms folded over his chest. "Lili..."

  "Agh, no!" She groaned and yanked the bed covers up to her forehead. "Fine, I'm sleeping!"

  I laughed. Ashkan was the only one who could call her by her childhood nickname. Nobody else could get away with it.

  "Get some rest," he said, heading for the door.

  Shaye huffed before pulling the covers down a bit. "You're the worst."

  He chuckled. "Yeah, love you too."

  "Night, Shaye," I said.

  "Goodnight, Brielle..."

  We left, shutting off the lights and closing the door behind us.

  "Do you think she'll sleep?" I whispered.

  "If she knows what's good for her," Ashkan replied.

  "Well, hopefully she'll feel better by tomorrow. If not... Do you think we'd go on the mission alone?"

  He shrugged. "Kadia will decide. Either way, we should be prepared. But for now, let's just enjoy the market."

  "All right," I agreed with a smile.

  The Artisan's Haven was densely crowded. Music floated through the air, and the smell of food and spices made my mouth water. Vendors had stalls set up all throughout the square. People of all ages milled about, some shopping, some just enjoying the festivities. The evening sky was cloudless, and the setting sun cast a warm glow over everything. The booths of merchants were overflowing from the regular marketplace into the surrounding streets. It was impossible to get through by anything other than foot. Fortunately, this allowed Ashkan and me to hide in plain sight. We kept a careful eye out for any pickpockets or other signs of trouble, but otherwise didn't go very far out of our way to conceal our identities.

  Kadia accompanied us, of course. She'd insisted on tagging along after we'd brought it up during training. Though she claimed to have wanted to visit the festival, I knew she was keeping an eye on us. The four other trainers were also present. We strolled with them for a bit while waiting to meet up with our friends. Soon, though, we found ourselves in the heated, outdoor patio area of The Roaring Witch. We had to pass through the pub to reach the back doors, and the place was packed. Miseris waved at us from the bar where she was busy serving drinks. Her tip jar was already three-quarters full.

  Kadia and Thorne were seated at the only free table in the outdoor section, tucked away in the corner. They chatted amiably, their heads bent together, while watching the live band. Tyrath was closer to the centre, talking to a pair of women. Of course, they were hanging onto his every word. He had that effect on a lot of people. From near me, Reyshore and Morgina were deeply engrossed in a sort of game with cards and dice. Five others were involved, each one looking more suspicious than the last.

  "Morgina," Reyshore began, "I shall explain this again. And it shall clarify matters. Do you see the card you just played?"

  Her nostrils flared and she narrowed her eyes. "Yes?"

  "Do you see how it totals ten?"

  Morgina froze in place, her expression one of pure bafflement. "...No!"

  The entire table burst into laughter. Reyshore himself dipped his head and chuckled, his shoulders shaking. For a moment, nobody could speak through their snorts and cackles.

  "That's either eight or twelve!" Morgina snapped, failing to hide a smile behind her confusion.

  Reyshore was practically wheezing, tears of mirth pricking at his eyes. "Ah, no, but... Oh, nevermind."

  She shot up and grabbed the edge of the table, then flipped it over. Cards and coins flew through the air, along with shouts and yelps of surprise. I tilted my head to the side as a half-full stein whizzed over my shoulder. Now laughing even harder, Reyshore clutched his stomach and flicked his hand outward. As if hitting a reverse button, everything flew back into its original spot. The spilled ale hadn't even hit the ground yet. Everyone continued to cackle for a while, Morgina included, despite her protests.

  A few minutes later, Ashkan and I ran into Viktor, Lilwen, Cassius, and Ivahr. They were standing in a small group, chatting and munching on various foods. We joined them and spent a good amount of time visiting the stalls and vendors. Ashkan bought us all hot cups of cider, and I found myself feeling content. There were no worries about school or missions or anything. For just a moment, it felt like everything was normal.

  "There are so many people here," Lilwen commented, peering around at the crowds. She was very bundled up, yet her face was still pink from the cold.

  "They come from all over," Cassius replied, adjusting the scarf around his neck. "My father's a merchant, and he says this is the biggest market in the country. You can find things from all over the world here."

  "Really?" Ivahr asked, perking up. "Have you ever seen any rare items?"

  "Rare or illegal? Because the answer is different."

  "Either. Both."

  "Once, I saw a man selling a book bound in skin."

  Ivahr looked appalled, his mouth agape. "What?! Why would anyone buy that?"

  "Why would anyone fall for that, is the real question. It was fake."

  "Damn," Ivahr said, looking genuinely disappointed.

  Cassius laughed and patted him on the back. "There are other vendors selling actual cursed objects. Go find one."

  Ashkan elbowed him. "Hey, don't give him any ideas. You know he’ll do it."

  "I'm not opposed," Ivahr said with a grin.

  "My stars, please do not," Lilwen said. "You'll wind up dead. Or worse."

  "It'll be fine. Probably," Ivahr replied, giving her a wink. "Besides, I need some new cursed items for my collection."

  Lilwen and Ashkan exchanged an exasperated glance. I stifled a laugh.

  We continued walking, stopping every so often to watch street performers. A juggler had a crowd of children gathered around, clapping and laughing. Further ahead, a woman sang along with a flute player. Several couples danced along with the music. As the sun sank lower, the lanterns lining the streets and rooftops came to life, giving the whole scene an enchanted look. Everywhere you turned, there was something beautiful or interesting to look at. Paintings, sculptures, and other pieces of art were set up on easels and tables.

  After a while, we came across an artist doing portraits. He had a huge piece of parchment taped up behind him, upon which he was drawing. At his feet, a basket sat full of drawings and paintings of people's faces. Some of the portraits were framed, and he had a small table covered in merchandise. I stopped, drawn to the display, and leaned over to look. The quality was incredible. His brushstrokes were precise, yet soft, and he'd somehow managed to capture each person's personality.

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  "Would you like to have your portrait done?" the artist asked, noticing me. He was a middle-aged man with a greying beard and a warm smile.

  "Oh, I'm sorry," I said. "I'm just looking."

  "Please, take your time. Perhaps you'll see something you like."

  Ashkan peered down at the collection. "These are amazing. It's like looking at photographs."

  I shook my head. "It must be insanely difficult to sit still for an entire painting."

  "I imagine so."

  "Can you use magic to freeze someone in place?" I wondered, thinking out loud.

  He thought for a second. "I'm sure it'd be helpful, but not very humane."

  "I wouldn't be able to handle it..."

  "A shame," he replied, glancing at me.

  I gave him a sidelong look. "Huh?"

  His eyes averted back to the display. "Well... Someone might wish to paint us at the end of the war. If we succeed, that is."

  "Oh, that's true. I suppose it would make a nice memory. And historians would be interested."

  Ashkan turned to Viktor. "Oi, would you paint us saviours one day? You're the artist here."

  Viktor gave him an unimpressed look. "You can't afford me."

  Ash rolled his eyes. "A good friend, you are."

  His mouth curled into a smirk. "Depends how famous I am by then."

  "Oh, come off it."

  I laughed. "So, no portrait today?"

  "I...would rather watch a hanging," Ashkan muttered, eyes wide. I snickered.

  The walkways were full of all kinds and types of art. People sold sculptures, paintings, pottery, and other crafts. The pieces ranged from crude, homemade trinkets to highly sophisticated masterpieces. The variety was overwhelming, yet it was fascinating to see the work of so many artists. I was sure there were plenty of talented people in Nelorismel, but this event gave an opportunity for people from all over the country to showcase their talents. It was impressive.

  Lilwen waved me over to a stand filled to the brim with jewelry. A large sign hung overhead, advertising the shop's name, 'Jaspar's Fine Baubles and Bangles'. The pieces were all beautifully crafted from all sorts of materials. Some were set with stones, others carved or painted. Many were made from polished metal, with designs engraved or hammered in. There were necklaces, bracelets, earrings, anklets, circlets, and rings, all made with care.

  "Look at this," Lilwen said, lifting a necklace from the display. It was a simple, yet elegant, silver chain with a crystal pendant. The stone caught the light and shimmered, refracting rainbows on its smooth surface.

  I took a second to admire it. "Beautiful. Did you want to get it?"

  She turned the pendant over in her hand. "I'm thinking about giving it to Shaye, actually. A little something to cheer her up."

  My brows rose. "That's a great idea! I'll split you on it."

  "Are you looking for anything, young ladies?" the vendor, an elderly woman, asked. When her eyes landed on me, her smile faltered slightly.

  "How much for this necklace?" Lilwen asked.

  "Ah... Eighty-two trooks, my dear," the woman answered, her smile returning.

  I contained my surprise. That wasn't an exorbitant amount, but it was higher than most prices in the market. Then again, the quality seemed high.

  Lilwen nodded and handed her the pendant. "I'll take it."

  "Very good. Would you like it wrapped up?"

  "Oh, yes, please."

  The woman reached under the table, then brought out a small box and a length of white velvet ribbon. She placed the pendant inside and tied the ribbon into a bow. The two of us reached into our pockets and handed her forty-one trooks each. Lilwen slipped the gift into her coat and thanked the vendor. We returned to the rest of the group.

  "Where'd you go?" Cassius asked, glancing at me.

  "Just looking at some jewelry," I said.

  "We bought something for Shaye," Lilwen elaborated. "We're hoping it'll make her feel better."

  Cassius smiled. "I'm sure she'll love it."

  Ashkan stepped closer. A bowl of steaming, hot broth sat in his hands. "May I see?"

  Lilwen retrieved the box and carefully unwrapped it, opening the lid. She held it out for him to observe.

  "Wow, that's nice," he commented, taking a sip from his bowl. "How much?"

  "Eighty-two," she answered.

  He immediately choked, broth dribbling down his chin, then hastily wiped his mouth and swallowed. "I'm sorry, what?"

  "Eighty-two," she repeated, giving him a strange look.

  "For that tiny pendant?!" He pushed the bowl of soup into my hands before grabbing the box from Lilwen's grasp. His eyes darted across the necklace, inspecting every detail. "You're serious? For this little bauble?"

  She frowned. "It's a perfectly lovely necklace."

  He held it up to the light and squinted. "This is moyelite. You can tell by the sheen. And the metal is troqium. Plated, most likely. The craftsmanship isn't bad, but there are some imperfections. These links are slightly crooked, the bail isn't perfectly symmetrical, and the gem is a bit cloudy. See? If you hold it here..." He turned it in the light. "Yep, can see the inclusions."

  "Oh," Lilwen said, her tone disappointed.

  "It's handmade," he continued. "Crafted by a good hand, mind you. But this isn't worth eighty-two trooks. I think that lady ripped you off."

  Her shoulders sunk a bit. "Oh."

  He gave the pendant back to her and took the bowl from me. "But that doesn't mean it's not a nice piece."

  I bit my lip. "I don't think she liked me being there."

  He sighed. "She probably recognized you and jacked up the price."

  "Damn..." I muttered.

  "Or maybe the old bat is just greedy," Cassius suggested.

  Lilwen closed the lid. "Well, it matters not. It's a gift for Shaye, anyway."

  The next booth we visited had a line. I peered over the heads of the people in front of us, curious as to what they were selling. There were only a few people working the counter, and they were constantly moving, making and boxing up orders. The crowd was chatting loudly.

  "What do you think they sell?" I asked, leaning towards Ashkan.

  "Not sure," he replied.

  The line inched forward. After a minute or two, I could see what was going on. Sculptures. Hundreds of them, in all sizes. Most were made of clay and had a glossy finish. Others were carved from stone or wood, and still others were moulded from metal and cloth. A few were even made of glass. But that wasn't the most striking thing. It was how...creepy they were.

  The surrealistic style of the artwork gave them an unsettling look, and the themes were bizarre. Many depicted people or animals in distorted, grotesque positions. One sculpture had a woman's hands reaching out, her fingers elongated and curled, like claws. Another had a man's severed head turned upside down.

  "Weird," I commented, eyeing a piece showing a person being torn apart by shadowy dogs. There was no blood or gore, but rather, the figures seemed to be melting.

  "Frightening," Ashkan agreed.

  The next piece in line was the bust of a bald woman. She was holding her jaw in her hands. The jaw was dislocated, her mouth open, as if screaming. The teeth were sharp and pointed, and the eyes were sunken into her face. Her cheeks were hollow, her skin stretched thin.

  Ivahr grinned. "Ha, neat!"

  "...Not the word I would use," Cassius chimed in.

  Ashkan stepped away from the display, his brow furrowed. "I don't know much about art, but I know what I intensely dislike..."

  "Is it the fact that they look like they were made in a fever dream?" I wondered, giving the sculptures another glance.

  "Or perhaps a nightmare," Lilwen added.

  Viktor stepped past us. "It's a style, not a nightmare. It's supposed to invoke a sense of unease."

  "Consider me uneasy," Ashkan murmured.

  Viktor scoffed. "At least Ivahr gets it."

  Ivahr shrugged. "No, I just like 'em. I'm not all artsy and cultured like you. My tastes are simple."

  "C'mon, are you saying these don't invoke any sense of fear or dread? Any thoughts about the human condition? How fleeting life is? How complex and volatile emotions can be?" Viktor asked, gesturing dramatically to the sculptures.

  Ivahr nodded. "They're neat."

  "Neat," Viktor echoed, looking annoyed.

  "Look, can you just accept that I'm a simple man? I'm not going to have some profound discussion about art. Someone always has to explain it to me... And then explain the explanation... I just like things that are strange! That's all!"

  Viktor shook his head and looked at the rest of us. "You guys get it, right?"

  "They're certainly intriguing," Cassius offered.

  "I-I don't like the way they look," Lilwen stammered, shrinking away.

  I cleared my throat. "They're very creative."

  "You can't call them creative. That's like saying the sky is blue," Viktor said.

  Ashkan just chuckled quietly. "We get it, mate. They fit your aesthetic. Can we go now?"

  He sighed, looking defeated. "Fine."

  We walked away from the booth, leaving the unsettling sculptures behind. The market had been a bustling place since the moment we arrived, and it was even more crowded as night fell. We wandered through the throngs of people, peering into the various shops and booths. A couple times, a vendor tried to flag us down and entice us with their goods. Most were food stands. It was hard not to stop and buy something.

  Off to one side, there was a fairly large crowd gathered around a stage. I stopped to get a closer look and saw that it was some sort of game. The participants were throwing rings at wooden targets. If they managed to get the ring around the target, they could choose a prize. The only catch was that you had to be blindfolded. The crowd was cheering and jeering, encouraging the participants and placing bets.

  Someone in the crowd recognized us and started calling us over. It was some acquaintances of ours, and we greeted them happily.

  "Oi, come on over! Let's show these folks what real talent looks like!" one said, waving us closer.

  "Yeah, you lot are pros, aren't ya?"

  Viktor grinned. "What's going on, lads?"

  "Come have a go, then! We're trying to beat the record," another guy said, patting him on the back.

  "All right, let's have a crack at it," Viktor decided. He looked at the rest of us. "Who else is up for it?"

  Cassius stepped forward. "Sure. Sounds fun."

  Ivahr laughed. "Count me in! I bet I can get a ring around the bullseye."

  Lilwen shook her head. "I'm not good at such things. Besides, I should probably retire for the evening. I have to get up early tomorrow for work."

  "Aww, that's too bad," Ivahr said. "You sure? We'll go easy on ya."

  She gave him a weak smile. "I am sure. You all have fun, though."

  "Good night, Lilwen," I said, watching her walk away.

  "Night!" she called back, lifting a hand.

  "Ash, what about you?" Viktor asked.

  "Eh, you go ahead. I'd rather stay here and watch," Ashkan replied, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  Viktor looked at me. "Brielle, you up for it?"

  I hesitated. "No thanks. I'll stay and watch, too."

  One of the guys from earlier nudged his friend. "Ooh, Ash's got himself a sweetheart, does he?" They burst into a fit of laughter. A slight warmth crept across my face.

  Ashkan rolled his eyes. "Shut it. Go play your little game."

  Viktor smirked and stepped onto the stage. Cassius and Ivahr followed suit. The rest of the group went back to playing, and we stood back to watch. They were excited, and their voices rose as they began discussing the rules. It was amusing to watch my friends try their hands at it. They missed quite a few times. The crowd got louder and louder, yelling at the participants and egging them on. I wasn't surprised when Viktor got a ring around the target and cheered with the rest of the spectators.

  I looked over at Ashkan. "You're sure you don't want to join?"

  He was watching the others with a smile. "I'll pass. Not really my cup of tea."

  "Ah," I replied, looking back. Cassius got a ring on the target, and the crowd whooped.

  Ashkan glanced down at me. "Speaking of tea, there's a lovely cafe down the way. Fancy a cup?"

  "Sounds great."

  We left the others to their game and headed for the cafe. It was a small shop with tables and chairs set up outside. Ashkan held the door open for me and we went inside. It was a cozy space, with warm lighting and plenty of seating. The air smelled of tea and pastries. We got in line and waited. When we got to the front, Ashkan ordered a cup of black tea. I was about to do the same when I noticed a sign advertising a seasonal dessert. I quickly changed my order to include the dessert, much to Ashkan's amusement.

  I was surprised when he led me back outdoors, around the side of the building and up a small flight of stairs. At the top was a balcony, with a view of the festival below. But he didn't stop there. He led me up another flight to the rooftop. I wasn't sure what was happening, but I didn't question him. When we reached the top, he climbed over the railing and leapt across the gap between buildings. My stomach dropped.

  "What are you doing?!" I gasped.

  He laughed. "Just a shortcut. Don't worry."

  "You're insane..." I muttered, reluctantly climbing over the railing. I took a deep breath and jumped, using aero magic to clear the gap.

  "Nice arc," he said, watching me land.

  Ashkan led the way across the rooftops, navigating through the maze of buildings. Every so often, we would have to jump or balance across something, but the path was mostly straight. He kept up a quick pace. The buildings were close together and the lights below cast a dim glow. Ashkan's figure was a dark silhouette against the backdrop. His coat billowed behind him, flapping in the wind. We were a couple storeys above the ground. The festival was loud, but quieter up here.

  After a few minutes, he came to a stop. I slowed beside him. We were standing at the edge of a tall building, looking out at the city. The night was clear and the moons were still rising. Below, the streets were filled with people. The sounds of music and laughter carried up from the ground. I could smell the scents of food wafting on the breeze. Ashkan walked along the edge, balancing easily. His footsteps were light.

  He turned to me with a grin. "Almost there."

  Before I could respond, he stepped backwards off the ledge and vanished.

  My heart plummeted to my feet. "ASHKAN!" I shouted.

  I rushed forward and peered over the edge, expecting to see him splatted on the ground. What I actually saw was thankfully much different. There was a platform, set far below the lip of the roof, where he was now standing. He laughed at the look on my face.

  "Are you okay?!" I exclaimed.

  "Never better. Come on," he said, motioning for me to join him.

  "Wh-Where does that lead?"

  He smiled. "You'll see."

  I slowly lowered myself onto the edge. "If I die, I'm coming back to haunt you."

  "Wouldn't have it any other way."

  I closed my eyes and scooted forward, letting gravity take over. My stomach twisted as I fell. After a few seconds, I landed on the platform beside him, air whooshing from under my feet. My legs buckled slightly. Ashkan reached out to steady me.

  "Where are we?" I asked, looking around.

  The platform was square, with an elaborate railing and a domed roof over the back half. It was built between two buildings, with a view overlooking the market. To one side, there was a row of buildings with balconies and windows. To the other, the festival was visible, with crowds milling about. Lights and music filled the air. It was a breathtaking sight. Lanterns were strung between the buildings, and their soft glow was reflected on the walls and rooftops.

  "It's an old clocktower," he explained, pointing up. "It used to be an observation deck. They had a big bell and everything. But it's been abandoned for years. People still come up here, though."

  "It's gorgeous," I breathed, gazing out over Nelorismel. I could see the faint outline of the palace in the distance.

  He sat down. "Here."

  I sat beside him in a spot where the railing broke off. Our legs dangled over the edge, and our shoulders brushed together. We were silent for a moment, simply taking in the sights. I looked out over the city again, watching the lanterns sway in the breeze. The music was faint from this distance but I could make out the tune.

  I took a sip of my tea, then opened my box of dessert. It was something called 'caffika', and it looked kind of complicated. Inside the chilled box was a round, glass bowl filled with three small scoops of ice cream. There was also a small cube wrapped in foil and a skinny bottle of dark brown syrup.

  "I'll be honest, I just wanted to see what this was," I admitted, picking up the bowl.

  Ashkan leaned over. "Need help?"

  "Yeah. Tell me how this works.."

  "First, you unwrap the cube and put it on this spoon," he explained, holding up the tiny utensil. It was oval-shaped, flat, and had many stylized holes in the metal. "Set it into the divot in the bowl. Then pour the syrup over it."

  "What's the cube?"

  "Sugared caffeine. You're going to be up all night."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Does that mean you don't want any of this?"

  He paused, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. "I didn't say that."

  I grinned and handed him the bottle. It was warm, and its contents melted the cube almost instantly. The mixture pooled into the bottom of the bowl. I watched, fascinated.

  "Now," he continued, "you use the normal spoon to mix it together."

  I took the second spoon and stirred. It took a few seconds, but eventually the ice cream and syrup combined into a uniform, paste-like texture. The cube was gone, having completely dissolved. It was a light brown colour with swirls of white.

  I tried some. The closest flavours it reminded me of were espresso, marzipan, chocolate, and caramel, with a hint of cinnamon. "...You're joking. This is amazing."

  "Right?" Ashkan laughed, then materialized a second spoon out of thin air, a copy of mine. He used it to scoop a bit of the dessert into his mouth. "Hmm. Just like I remember."

  A chill passed over me. I set the bowl down and took a drink of my tea, then returned to the dessert. We were approaching the coldest time of the year. The days were still tolerable with the right clothing, but the nights were becoming very frigid. It was even colder up here, away from the crowds and cooking.

  Ashkan seemed unaffected by the temperature. He was dressed appropriately with a fur-lined coat, scarf, gloves, and knit cap. The tip of his nose was pink from the wind. I was dressed similarly, wearing a knee-length, fur-lined coat with a high collar, a long scarf, a wool beret, and leather gloves. My hair fluttered in the breeze.

  Diamonds were the symbol of snow and ice, and were often visible in Winithinian fashion – quilted fabrics, argyle, chevrons, pointed edges, fishnets. Beyond that, garments were vaguely Gothic and Edwardian in nature. Gloves of all lengths and styles were common. Furs, heavy coats, boots, scarves, knitwear, hats, and neck gaiters were layered to combat the freeze. Ordinary sights also included lace, velvet, suspenders, silver hardware, leather hats, ascots, corsets, and rings.

  I took a deep breath and gazed out at the festival, the cold air making my lungs tingle. It was a peaceful moment. The moons were pale, their light reflecting off the rooftops. Stars glittered in the vast, dark sky like diamonds sewn into black velvet. Faintly, I could see an aurora, rippling across the horizon in brilliant waves of colour – a beautiful combination of pinks, purples, greens, and blues. It felt like the world was a snow globe, with us sitting on a shelf somewhere.

  Ashkan's words startled me out of a trance. "You've been a tad quiet today."

  I shot him a confused look. "Really?"

  "Yes, really." He glanced down. "Something's been on your mind."

  I shrugged, trying to keep my expression neutral. "Nothing in particular."

  "That's a lie and you know it," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

  My gaze flicked to his, and then away again. I fiddled with the spoon as I stirred the remains of the dessert. "It's depressing."

  "So? Depressing things happen every day."

  I frowned and stared at the people below. A strange sort of numbness washed over me. "There's so much...beauty. Here. And I hate that I know it might not last. It might get entirely destroyed. Maybe because of me. Or maybe not. It's just... Sometimes I start wondering if whatever beautiful thing I'm looking at will be the last time I see it. And I wouldn't even know."

  "Brielle..."

  "Sorry. Like I said, it's depressing. I'm being pessimistic..."

  He was silent for a long time. I wasn't sure why I'd chosen to speak so openly. Something about him just made me want to confide in him.

  Ashkan cleared his throat eventually. "There's beauty in destruction, too. That's not to say that war is good. It's not. But sometimes, there can be a sort of...catharsis. To have something ugly, that has caused you pain, to be torn apart and swept away. To see it reduced to rubble, or to see its ashes scatter. Sometimes, you can find beauty in the aftermath. In the knowledge that the damage is gone. That it's over."

  I was surprised. He spoke softly, but there was an underlying edge to his words, as if he'd had similar thoughts and experiences. "That's true."

  He sighed. "But I do understand. It's far too easy to get caught up in the what-ifs and the could-bes. They're dangerous. You can't let the future keep you from enjoying the present."

  I looked up and met his eyes. His gaze was steady, his face serious. There was an intensity to his words. I wasn't sure why, but I felt there was something else lurking behind them.

  "Yeah. You're right." I smiled.

  Ashkan held my gaze with an unreadable expression. He then looked away, his eyes distant as he turned back to the skyline. I watched him curiously, trying to read his emotions. I wasn't sure if I'd made him uncomfortable.

  "I...don't want to bring you down. But thank you," I added.

  He gave me a faint smile. "Anytime."

  I finished my dessert and leaned back, resting my weight on my hands. "This place is incredible. How'd you find it?"

  "It's a hobby. Exploring old places," he replied. "If you can see it, chances are, you can get there."

  "Surely someone would've noticed you climbing up here," I said.

  He smirked. "I have my ways. It helps that people don't tend to look up."

  "Fair point."

  "I'd expect you to understand. Aren't you the one that used to scale abandoned buildings on Earth? For fun?"

  "Hey, that's different. I was being a dumb kid. I was never up this high."

  "And yet, you're not afraid of heights. That's interesting."

  I paused, then shrugged. "I guess. I don't make the rules."

  Ashkan's eyes fell to his feet. He crossed one leg over the other. "You know, I'm curious. What is it you're afraid of? I've yet to see it."

  "Um. Well, that's a loaded question," I joked. "Lots of things, I guess."

  He smiled faintly. "Such as...?"

  I tilted my head back and gazed up at the stars. I could name quite a few things I was afraid of, but I wasn't sure what would be the appropriate answer. Why did he want to know?

  I hesitated, then sighed. "...I'm kind of scared of thunderstorms." I expected him to laugh, but he didn't.

  "Thunderstorms, hm?" He crossed his arms. "You don't yield to Inkbloods chasing you with knives, or a giant beast intent on devouring you, but thunderstorms? Interesting."

  "They're loud," I muttered. "And unpredictable."

  "That they are. Anything else?"

  I was a little embarrassed, but it was nice to talk about it. No one had asked me this before. "Well, getting bit by a viper was not fun. And the idea of dying scares everyone, I think. To a degree. But I haven't thought much about fears. I usually don't find myself in a position where it's relevant. I kind of just...roll with the punches."

  "I see. It's not something people think about daily." He shifted and stretched his legs out. "I wish I could say I'm afraid of spiders, or needles, or the dark. Something mundane. Something tangible."

  I wasn't sure why, but I'd never imagined him afraid of anything. He seemed fearless. "What are you afraid of, then?"

  He went still. There was a beat of silence. Then, he turned his face toward the sky. His expression was blank. "I don't know..."

  I looked at him quizzically. "Are you implying you've never feared anything?"

  "No, I have. It's just not the same as everyone else's."

  I wasn't sure what he meant. He sounded so detached, as if he was reciting facts rather than expressing a personal opinion.

  "Care to elaborate?"

  He closed his eyes. "It's nothing really. It's... Um. Sometimes, I worry about...not feeling enough. Or...not knowing how to. Other times, it's the opposite. Too much, or nothing, or everything at once."

  I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. There was a tense pause. I wondered if this was something he'd shared with others, or if I was the only person he'd ever spoken to about it.

  "That makes sense."

  "Does it?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

  I thought for a moment. "Yeah. It's just how you're wired. People are different. But I think, as long as you're aware of it, and try to break through it, you're doing your best. A lot of people never even get that far."

  Ashkan's face changed. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and his expression softened. "Perhaps."

  "Has it been bothering you?" I asked quietly.

  He took a breath. "More recently, somewhat."

  I wasn't sure if I should ask, but I decided to anyway. "Why now?"

  "I...don't know. Maybe it's just part of the passage of time."

  "A vague answer," I pointed out.

  He shrugged, then smiled faintly. "It's an equally vague feeling."

  We were both silent for a while. There was a sudden change in the atmosphere. The air felt heavier, the silence more profound. I could sense a shift in his demeanour. Hollow. It was as if his mind had travelled somewhere far away and his body was the only thing that remained.

  "It's not a bad thing," I said after several moments.

  Ash looked at me sidelong, his features displaying zero emotion.

  "...To feel," I clarified. "Even when it hurts. Sometimes...crawling can feel better than lying still."

  He stared at me for a second before turning away. I was certain that, for a brief second, the mask had slipped.

  "I...will try to remember that. Thanks."

  I smiled. "Of course."

  Ashkan sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His back was hunched and his eyes were fixed on the horizon. I hoped he wasn't shutting me out. I had the impression that there was something else on his mind. Something bigger. Something important.

  I exhaled, my breath clouding the air. "Well, if it's any consolation, you seem to have a pretty solid handle on things. On yourself. Most people have a lot of trouble with that."

  He turned and regarded me with a curious look. "Really? How can you say that when you've witnessed multiple of my outbursts?"

  "That's not the same," I countered. "You're not angry at me. You're not lashing out, necessarily. You're just reacting to everything that's been thrown at you. All those emotions, all those experiences, have to go somewhere. Maybe you bottle it up for a while. Or you try not to think about it. But at some point, you just can't anymore. So it has to boil over. It’s only natural."

  He was quiet. The wind had picked up and it was growing colder.

  I went on, "And I think that, regardless of what happens, or what's going on, you're handling it the best you can. Honestly, considering everything, it's a miracle you're not a complete wreck. If anything, it's inspiring. To watch someone be so strong and resilient, while also...kind and empathetic. Y'know, it's... It's something to be proud of."

  Ashkan's eyes flicked up to meet mine, and his expression shifted. It was a strange, unguarded look, one of surprise and vulnerability. Then, he smiled – not a grin, or a smirk, or a mischievous curl of the mouth. It was genuine. It reached his eyes, and the skin around them crinkled a little.

  "That's...very kind of you," he said softly. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome."

  He sighed, and his posture relaxed. We both looked out over the city. The lights were twinkling, and the moons cast their gentle, pale light down. It was peaceful. After a few minutes, I began shivering. The temperature was dropping fast.

  Ashkan looked over, his face etched with concern. He rose to his feet. Wordlessly, he moved to lean over the balcony, appearing as though he was searching for something.

  "What are you doing?"

  He glanced at me over his shoulder, a strand of hair falling across one eye. "Looking."

  "For...?"

  I watched as he leaned farther over the railing and extended a hand. A large, grey blanket flew up from below, landing in his grasp. I was surprised that he'd been able to summon the fabric from such a distance. Then, he turned back to me, and a wave of red-orange magic enveloped the blanket before disappearing.

  I eyed him suspiciously. "Did you just steal that from someone?"

  He chuckled. "No. There's a basket of them down there, by the quilt makers. I'm merely borrowing it."

  He shook out the blanket and placed it around my shoulders, pulling it around my neck. The heating charm felt like stepping in front of a fireplace on a cold winter's day. Like clothes that had just come out of the dryer.

  "...Thanks."

  "Mhm."

  The throw was large enough for both of us. He settled in next to me, sitting close. Our shoulders bumped together. I was surprised by how comfortable it was. I'd expected to feel awkward, or tense, or shy. But I didn't. I felt calm. It was nice.

  The festival continued below us. There were people laughing, singing, dancing. It looked so festive and happy. I wished we could just stay here, up on the roof, and enjoy the quiet. But eventually, we'd have to turn in for the night. The ice gemstone had to be tracked down tomorrow. We'd have to get up early. I'd have to get suited up, and ready, and try to convince myself that I wasn't nervous. I'd have to wear those heavy blades and that somehow even heavier pistol. I'd have to face the unknown. Maybe I'd have to face death. Again. And tell myself that today wasn't my day to go. That I still had more to do. More to see. More to experience.

  But right now, at least, I didn't have to think about any of that. I could just sit here and feel the warmth from the blanket, and stare out at the stars, and pretend, for a few hours, that this was normal. That we were just two friends enjoying the night. That, without a doubt, everything would be fine.

  The breeze picked up again, the moons glistened, and I huddled a little closer.