Once this place was full of malvas. It was our secret spot on the old cliff near the Red River. The river itself wasn't red; it's just that red healing crystals were once mined there back in the days of the first humans, so the name stuck.

We used to meet here secretly with Damsel Malva Mills before I joined her family's service.

It's so strange to be here again. Just a week ago, I couldn't have imagined willingly returning to the capital and going to our old cliff.

I thought I would cry or my heart would ache with sorrow, but I feel nothing: no sadness, no longing, no consuming pain of loss and loneliness. Nothing.

Our malvas, mallows as elves call them, are no more. The path to the edge of the cliff is almost overgrown. Perhaps the younger generation prefers to meet elsewhere in the city center.

The warm evening breeze blows on my face as I offer my cheeks to the setting sun. Maybe I should forget about this revolution and regime change, maybe I should head south to the coast, become a mage in some luxurious sanatorium, and brew potions for wealthy, frail patients-nobles? During breaks, I could frolic with mermaids on the shore, finally take off my old jacket and walk in a light sleeveless blouse like the local fisherwomen.

No, I don't want the boy to live in a country that will only get worse and worse. I don't want to see him wandering from village to village in search of odd jobs. We need to find Rootie and Sunshine. They're probably in the Old Forest south of the capital now; I don't think they've gone far since our last meeting. I'll rest for a bit, eat the remains of the fried fish the kikimora caught for us in the morning, and nibble on the baked potatoes Zil and I dugout on the abandoned field. Then I'll go to the Old Forest; we'll see what happens next.

"Sorceress Sorrel."

I hear an unpleasant male voice. Some men seem to have a voice specifically designed to repel people.

I don't turn to them. I heard their footsteps from afar. If they were trying to approach unnoticed, they failed. I continue to eat the cold fish, looking down at the Red River. It used to be my favorite view.

"Madam Sorceress Sorrel," another male voice repeats.

I slowly turn my head towards them, looking at them disdainfully. Nothing special and nothing surprising. I've already guessed who sent them after me. Both are of the same height, both wear light leather armor adorned with a two-headed, disgustingly looking basilisk. Their faces show no particular emotions, just like everyone who serves in or for the government.

"Do you know what my jacket is made of?" I ask the two men.

They remain silent. One man's lips twitches in disgust... Or is it just a nervous tic? It's hard to tell anything from these brainless male faces.

"It's made of basilisk. Your royal symbol. Long ago, the noble dragon was the true symbol of Woodland, but with the arrival of your Westlandic whore queen, everything changed. Did you think the dull people of my country wouldn't notice the substitution? Did you think that brainless Woodlanders wouldn't distinguish between a two-headed basilisk and a true dragon?" I sneer, trying to buy time and figure out what to do next. They couldn't have come to a battle mage without artifacts; otherwise, I could just crush them to dust. What are they hiding from me? What is their weapon against me?

"Our lady asked us to escort you, esteemed sorceress, to her residence. Please, come with us. A carriage awaits you on the road."

They don't have any magic or artifacts. I apply elementary magical spells, reciting incantations silently and discreetly tracing runes on the inner part of my pocket with my fingers. Nothing. Spells don't detect artifacts. What's the catch?

One of them takes a step towards me, not getting the expected response from me. I decide to use a combat spell. I'll start with the simplest one, "repelling." It repels any object within its range.

I extend my hand sharply forward. Several cabbage-sized boulders lying on the roadside fly five to ten elbows away, but these two stand still without flinching.

"Let's not complicate the situation. Our lady said not to harm you, but in case of resistance, she ordered us to use a certain force..."

"So, she made it so I can't use magic against you! Clever! Bravo," I applaud sarcastically.

She can't take away my magic. Yes, I won't be able to use magic to harm them. Let's try to bypass that. I raise the same boulders with the force of magic and hurl them at the men. They bounce off them. Damn Bibar!

I take a step back. It'll be easy to jump off the cliff. I'll propel myself with a stream of air created by the spell. I'll lose a lot of strength — elemental spells are always the most energy-consuming, but I'll be able to escape. It will take them some time to descend to the river. When they do, I'll be long gone.

I'm ready to jump when suddenly I realize I can't do it.