"Well, that was a waste of time," Darin muttered to himself as he stepped out of the shop and into the streets of—What was this town's name again? It didn't matter enough to him to go searching for the answers. Instead, he continued to wander, passing row upon row of lime-washed houses. All he wanted was more mana potions, but every place he entered was wiped clean of them.

He turned down a much narrower alley, believing it to be a shortcut to the main road, lost in thought on how he got himself in this situation.

It all started a few days prior after an encounter with a particularly mischievous unseelie. Nasty frights with nasty bites. Teeth marks still cut deeply into his skin at his shoulder, and they had yet to properly close. If he were a careful person, he would have marched to a qualified healer as soon as he entered the village, but, alas, he was not. There were too many Order members skulking around for his liking to sit idly, and every stray look he received made his skin crawl.

What are they even doing here in the first place? he thought bitterly. Don't they have labor camps to keep an eye on?

He remembered watching the Three Kingdom Alliance leading chains of dragonkind after the war ended. Many celebrated that day, but he was not one of them.

Before he could find the main road and be on his way, he felt the strap of his bag slip from around his neck. A blur to his right disappeared down an alleyway. Dumbfounded, he stared down the narrow strip between houses, only realizing what had just happened as the figure rounded the corner. "Hey!"

He ran after them—someone small—as close as he could, yet couldn't seem to gain any ground. He may have had longer legs, but it was the tight corners that slowed him down. The thief weaved between spaces at random; spaces Darin wasn't sure he could squeeze through if he were a touch wider. It was a good thing he had set a trace on the bag as he followed it like a mental compass. The thief would have been long gone if he didn't.

If it was a normal day, he wouldn't have cared about the stolen bag at all, giving up after the first few twists, but, well, he needed those mana potions! Especially since it appeared no one had them in stock. He knew he could naturally absorb mana over time, but being without the potions in his line of work meant trouble.

Darin skidded to a stop just as the thief darted past the last row of houses and into the woods the town sat next to. This isn't ideal...He still could sense where the bag was, the thief having slowed after realizing they were no longer being chased, but any smart man knew entering an unknown forest was never a good idea. Not in this world, at least, where the barrier between the Fae and Mortals constantly cracked and gave way to the Seelie and Unseelie. This would be a good place for an ambush. Brushing his fingers against the leather cover of his spellbook, firmly nestled in its carrier that strapped around his waist and thigh, he sent a pulse of magic to probe the trees beyond. There were no unusual amounts of foul energy, but he continued the process as he carefully made his way into the woods.

All this for mana potions, he lamented.

He was eventually led into a small clearing with an old ruin. Remnants like these weren't particularly uncommon, especially in Loten where the ancient kingdom of Nimn once resided. Only the stone outline of a house remained, low enough to easily step over, and the ground was indented and cracked as if it was once a small pool of water that had dried. Before he could take a step closer, however, he felt something rip through his probes.

He lept back as an arrow pierced the ground where he had been standing just a moment before. In an instant, he pulled his spellbook from its carrier, his thumb pressing on one of many tabs that stuck out from it before it was even held in front of it. The book responded to his touch, snapping open to the page the tab labeled, and a cloudy barrier wrapped around its caster.

Another arrow released, striking the barrier and causing a crack that spiderwebbed out from the impact. The barrier quickly mended itself. No longer having to worry about another injury, Darin thumbed another tab, watching the pages flip on their own. Dirt and dust billowed around him as a tremor disturbed the ground. Another tab, and soon his person disappeared from sight. The barrier had dissipated when he left the page, and he retreated back into trees to the side.

There, he waited.

It took a few moments for the dust to settle enough for the clearing to become visible. The thief still hid just across from him, or had at least left the bag behind. Thinking it was the latter, Darin went to retrieve it, but froze as a tree ahead of him began to rustle.

From the cover of the leaves dangled down a set of legs. There seemed to be a bit of a struggle—perhaps they had gotten snagged on a branch—before the rest of them came into view. It was a boy; no more than twelve years of age and with black, shaggy hair. A hunting bow and quiver was strapped loosely to his back, as it was made for an adult rather than a child. He held the stolen bag between his teeth as he dropped to the ground, tucking it under his arm soon after, and he gave one last look around before he took off running.

Unwilling to let the chase go on any longer and now in a broader area, Darin slammed his palm into the ground, muttering an incantation on the untabbed page before him. Cracks bubbled to the surface as something traveled underground from Darin's palm, advancing swiftly to the boy. The boy spun on his heel, hearing the sound of splitting earth, only to be stopped in his tracks as vines shot up from the ground, wrapping around his ankles and wrists. The bag fell to the ground as his arms were jerked forward.

The boy struggled as he heard Darin's footsteps approach, his eyes darting back and forth wildly as he tried to locate him. He froze, his eyes wide and his mouth dropping open in shock, as the bag in front of him was lifted up by seemingly nothing, but his question was soon answered when Darin materialized before him.

"I'll be taking this," Darin said, tucking the bag under his arm and manually flipping through the pages of the spellbook, though keeping his thumb in the one that held the vines. He didn't pay the boy any mind as he found the spell he was looking for and fumbled with the broken strap a bit to get the sides together. Reciting what was on the page, the strap mended itself together, leaving behind a raised line where it once split. Satisfied with the results, Darin looped the bag over his neck once again and pulled out a simple, glass bottle filled with a translucent blue liquid. He downed around half of its contents before placing it back in the bag.

"Well, that was a lot of trouble we both went through for nothing," Darin continued in a light tone, but the boy knew a scolding when he heard it. "You made me expend a good amount of mana just now. That, and I'm sure you can't use more than half of this bag's contents. Maybe a piece of stale bread at the bottom of it." He tugged at a string around his neck and pulled a small coin purse from under his shirt. "I'm assuming you were looking for this? Only a fool would keep their coins somewhere that can be reached. I recommend you pick your targets more carefully in the future."

As if the boy hadn't heard anything Darin just said, he blurted, his eyes wide with alarm, "What are you?"

Darin jerked back a bit at that, furrowing his brow in confusion as he tucked the coin purse back under his shirt. "That's a bit of a rude question. Do I not look human? Unless you mean this." He held up the spellbook, still in hand, and waved it a bit. "I'm a wizard."

Now able to get a good look at the boy, he began noting what he saw. Worse-for-wear clothing hung loosely upon the boy's body, and a bandage wrapped around his left forearm. He would've assumed it was an injury if it weren't for the boy's unnervingly silver eyes with pupils the shapes of vertical slits. Darin couldn't keep the surprise from his voice.

"And you're a dragonkind."

Suddenly remembering the predicament he was in, the boy began struggling anew.

"Let me go!" the boy snarled. He didn't know what Darin's intentions were, and he certainly didn't like the unsettling presence the other brought with him. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Whoa! Wait!" Darin quickly shoved the spellbook back into its carrier, his thumb still marking its place, and held a hand in front of him, his palm forward. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The boy shot him an unimpressed look before glancing back at the bonds.

"Ah—Bad choice of words. But I mean it. Just...don't move around like that. You're going to hurt yourself." Red scratches already lined the boy's wrist. Darin took a deep breath. "If I let you go, do you promise you won't attack me or run away?"

A glare was his only response. The boy's head was held high, his posture stiff, and he met his gaze unflinchingly. It was as if he was daring him to let him go, giving nothing away as to what would happen.

Please tell me I won't regret this...

He pulled his hand away from the book, its pages coming to a close. With nothing supporting them any longer, the vines went limp, sliding harmlessly off the boy. Darin let out a quick sigh of relief when the boy didn't run nor make a move to grab his bow. Instead, he shook the vines from his legs and rubbed his sore wrists, glancing back at Darin occasionally, unsettled. Darin didn't blame the boy for being so distrusting.

Even for a dragonkind so young, I doubt he was spared from the horrors of the labor camps.

"What do you want, then?" the boy asked, leaning away and hunching his shoulders. "I can't create gold from thin air if that's what you're waiting for."

"What?" Who in all of Amaredeia believes in that myth? Darin shook his head, half in disbelief and half in denial. "No. I want to help you."

The boy's eyes narrowed, and his lips twitched as if he wanted to snarl once more. "You want to help me?"

Darin said nothing in response, simply observing him. So the boy did the same. The boy thought Darin was certainly an experienced traveler with the bag, a coin purse around his neck, a special carrier for the spellbook, and an empty sword harness (did he lose it?), but he also seemed to be slightly out of sorts judging by the hasty-looking way the other had his medium brown hair tied back and how easy it was to snatch the bag in the first place. There was just something so...unnerving about the man, the boy thought. Something that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise, telling him the man in front of him was dangerous. As he looked into Darin's warm, umber brown eyes, however, he could detect no malice. The boy was pulled out of his thoughts when Darin spoke again.

"The Order of Ordephus. They're after you, aren't they?" The question was said as a statement, and Darin gave a pointed look at the boy's bandaged arm. The boy pulled the arm behind him. "You're hiding a brand under those."

"What of it?" the boy snapped defensively.

Darin ignored the question, instead pulling out his spellbook once again. He saw the boy flinch at the action from the corner of his eyes, but didn't address it as he leafed through the book's pages.

"I have a natural affinity for illusions," he explained, stopping at a page. "So casting a glamour on you will be child's play; granted that they are small changes, of course. Blue or brown?"

"What?"

"Pick an eye color."

"Red," the boy quipped sarcastically.

"Now, now," Darin tutted, "I'm trying to make you look inconspicuous. You're getting brown."

The boy yelped as his vision temporarily went out of focus, and his bandaged forearm felt as if millions of tiny bugs were crawling over it. "What are you doing?!"

"Casting a glamour. I thought I made that clear." Darin slipped the spellbook back into its carrier. "You can take the bandage off, now. No one will see the brand or your true eyes unless they're trained to look past illusions. But even then, you would have to consciously know it's an illusion and would have to be looking pretty closely. I doubt we will run into anyone like that."

The boy hesitated, at first not believing Darin. But he had certainly done something to his arm. Curious, he tugged the bandage loose and carefully unwinded it. His eyes went wide in surprise when there was nothing there, just a normal patch of skin. He ran his fingers over the now-unmarred skin before looking back up at Darin. Confused. Conflicted. Doubtful.

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because none of this is right." Darin's voice was soft and sympathetic as he gazed down at the boy's vulnerable expression. "The war of this age has ended, and yet you still carry the brand of something you are too young to have been a part of."

Darin waited for the boy to speak, but when he remained silent, he held his hand out for a handshake. "My name is Darin Alaris, by the way."

The boy looked dubiously at his hand, but he reached out to grasp it after a moment and gave a single shake before pulling away. "Argent."

"Argent? How fitting," Darin mused, walking past the boy and waving for him to follow as he headed back to the village. "Stay close to me. The glamour doesn't hold as well the farther you are."

Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he noted the boy's guarded expression as he lingered behind. So with a smile, he added, "I'll treat you to dinner once we're far enough away from here."

Argent perked up at the mention of food, and he strode closer to Darin. "What about now?"

"We can pick up a snack to eat along the way."

That seemed to win the boy over as he jogged up next to him, and Argent smiled up at him for the first time.

"Deal."

Word count: 2553