Theodore POV

"You're dropping your guard again."

Theodore ducked under Freya's fist, the air whistling where his head had been a second ago. She was pulling her punches. She had to be, or his skull would've been paste. That didn't mean getting clipped wouldn't hurt like hell though.

"I'm not dropping anything," he shot back, weaving around another strike. His body dissolved partially into slime, her next punch passing through harmless goo before he reformed. "You're just being predictable."

"Oh? Predictable?"

Her knee came up fast. Too fast. Shit shit shit. Theodore barely got his arms down in time to block, the impact sending him skidding back across the training yard. His forearms tingled. Even holding back, Freya hit like a runaway cart.

"See?" she said, bouncing on her feet. "Predictable."

"That's not what predictable means."

"Sure it is. I predicted you'd block that."

"That's not—" Theodore cut himself off. No point arguing with Freya-logic. "Whatever. Again."

They reset, circling each other. The training yard was empty except for them, it had been since he returned from the Tower, happy with the deal. Since then, he'd mostly been training and sparring with Freya, giving a go at cracking the rune on his shoulder in his free time.

"You meet one Tower Master and suddenly you think you're too good to spar properly," Freya said, feinting left.

Theodore didn't bite. "I literally never said that."

"You were thinking it."

"I was thinking about lunch."

"Boring." She came in with a combination—jab, cross, hook. Theodore slipped the first two, caught the hook on his shoulder. Let it spin him around, used the momentum to aim an elbow at her ribs—

She wasn't there anymore. Her foot caught him in the back, sent him stumbling forward. Not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to make a point.

"You're definitely dropping your guard," she said.

"You're definitely cheating."

"How is being faster cheating?"

"When you're that much faster, it's cheating."

"Aw, poor baby." She made exaggerated crying motions. "Want me to slow down? Fight with one hand behind my back?"

"You—"

Something burned.

He flinched to a stop and Freya noticed that too.

He first thought of burning like fire, but quickly crushed that thought. It wasn't burning like fire, but rather, it burned like... like someone had pressed a hot coin against his shoulder. The rune. That rune the woman in black had left. Theodore's entire focus snapped to it, razor-sharp paranoia flooding through him. He'd already isolated the thing, wrapped it in so many barriers it might as well have been in another dimension. If this was some kind of delayed attack, some kind of soul-binding bullshit—

He was ready to cut that part of his soul out if he had to. Better to lose a piece than the whole thing. He had the mental knife ready, prepared to perform spiritual surgery on himself right here in the training yard if necessary.

But nothing happened.

Instead, there was just... direction? Mm. That was direction, yes, like someone had installed a compass in his brain, and it was pointing... that way. Toward the merchant district. Not just the general direction either. He could feel the exact path, like there was an invisible thread tugging at his awareness.

So that's what she'd meant. Come find me in the capital. Not "here's my address" or "ask around for the creepy death lady." Just... follow the magic bookmark.

Typical cryptic nonsense.

Did he want to go?

Theodore thought about it for all of two seconds. Yeah, he did. The woman could've killed him a dozen times over on that ship. She could've done whatever she wanted, really. If she'd wanted to hurt him, she wouldn't have needed tricks or delayed runes. She'd have just... done it. Plus, she'd mentioned something about a skill locked in the rune. He was curious about that. And just curious in general.

Sue him.

"Theodore?" Freya waved a hand in front of his face. "You alive in there? Having a stroke? Should I get a [Healer]?"

"I'm fine."

"You sure? You've been standing there making faces."

Had he? Theodore shook his head, walked over and grabbed his water pouch from the bench. Took a long drink while he organized his thoughts. The pull was still there, insistent but not urgent. Like it would wait as long as he needed but would really prefer if he got moving right now.

"Hey," he said, still drinking. "Want to come with me somewhere? Just the two of us. I need to take care of something and I'd feel better if you were there with me."

"Are you asking me out?"

Theodore choked on his water.

Freya's laughter echoed across the training yard.

He actually choked. Full-on coughing, water going down the wrong pipe, eyes watering.

"That's—" cough "—not what I—" more coughing "—meant!"

"I mean, I'm flattered," Freya continued, clearly enjoying herself.

"I hate you."

"No you don't." She was practically glowing with amusement. "But seriously, what's this about? You look weird. Weirder than normal, I mean."

Theodore finally got his breathing under control. Wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Remember that woman from the ship?"

Freya's entire demeanor changed. The playfulness vanished, replaced by sharp interest, because he had told her and Juliana about that interaction already. "Death lady you talked about?"

"Yeah, her."

"What about her?"

"She left something. A marker. It just activated."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"And you want to follow it?"

"Yeah."

"That seems stupid."

"Yeah."

They looked at each other. "Alright, let's go."

"Just like that?"

"What, you want me to talk you out of it? We both know you're going regardless, and you already know who—and how—I am." She cracked her knuckles. "Plus, maybe I'll get to fight her."

"Please don't try to fight the woman who can stop time."

"But think about how fun it would be."

"I'm thinking about how dead we'd be."

"You're such a pessimist." Freya grabbed her own water, downed half of it in one go. "So where are we going?"

"Merchant district. The... weird part."

"Oh good. I love the weird part. So many interesting smells."

Theodore stared at her. "That's not a good thing."

"It's an experience."

"Getting stabbed is an experience too."

"See, now you're getting it!" She clapped him on the back hard enough to make him stumble. "Come on, let's go find your creepy death girlfriend."

"She's not my—why would you even—"

But Freya was already walking away.

Theodore followed. What did it say about him when Freya of all people was more cautious than him about all this?

Then again, he had a gut feeling about this.

***

"So you're absolutely sure about this?" Freya asked as they rounded into a dark alleyway.

The nice part of the merchant district had given way to... well, not the bad part exactly, but definitely the weird part. The kind of place where shops didn't have signs because if you needed a sign, you weren't supposed to be there. Where the cobblestones were older, worn smooth by centuries of secretive foot traffic. The buildings seemed to lean in, like they were sharing secrets.

"Pretty sure," Theodore said.

"Love that confidence." She peered into the shadows. "You know, this is exactly how people get murdered. Dark alley, mysterious directions, no witnesses..."

Theodore stared at her dryly.

"What? I'm just saying. If we die, I'm haunting you."

"That's not how haunting works."

"I'll make it work. Pure spite can accomplish anything."

"That's... actually probably true in your case."

"Thank you."

They walked deeper into the alley. And walked. And walked some more. The compass feeling in Theodore's head kept pulling him forward, past dumpsters and questionable puddles and one very confused cat that hissed at them before running off.

"This is taking forever," Freya complained. "Are we walking to another city?"

"It's been five minutes."

"Five minutes of my life I'll never get back."

"You literally agreed to come."

"I was expecting something to happen by now. A fight, maybe. Some thugs jumping out. Something."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"You should be." She kicked a pebble, sent it skittering into the darkness. "Oooh, what if it's a trap?"

"It's probably a trap."

"That's the spirit!" She seemed genuinely pleased by the possibility. "Think there'll be assassins?"

"Why would there be assassins?"

"I don't know, you're the one with mysterious death ladies leaving magic bookmarks on you. Maybe you're secretly important."

"I'm literally a prince."

The alley twisted and turned, leading them deeper into the maze of back streets. Theodore was pretty sure they'd passed that same weird stain on the wall twice now. Either that or there were multiple weird stains, which shouldn't be the case.

"Are we lost?" Freya asked.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"The rune knows where it's going."

"The rune. Right. The magic rune that a mysterious woman put on you without consent. That definitely has your best interests at heart."

"When you put it like that—"

"Oh, we're still going. I just want you to acknowledge how dumb this is."

"Acknowledged."

"Good."

They turned another corner and—

"Finally!" Freya threw her hands up. "Something!"

In front of them sat... a shop? Maybe? It had a door and windows, but the windows were so dark they might as well have been painted black. No sign, obviously. Just a door that looked like it hadn't been opened since the last age. The wood was so old it had turned almost black, with iron hinges that belonged in a museum.

Theodore and Freya looked at each other.

"Well, this isn't ominous at all," Freya said.

"You wanted something interesting."

"I wanted a fight, not a haunted antique shop."

"Could be both."

"Now you're thinking positive!"

Theodore approached the door slowly. The pull from the rune was strongest here, practically humming with certainty. This was definitely the place. Whatever 'the place' was.

"Should we knock?" he asked.

"Or we could kick it down."

"We're not kicking down the door."

"Why not? It'd be dramatic."

"It'd be property damage."

"Only if we get caught."

Theodore reached for the door handle—

"You're not registered."

Theodore spun around. A woman stood behind them, black hair pulled back in a severe bun, scowling like they'd personally insulted her entire family line. She was dressed in dark leathers, practical and worn. The kind of outfit that said 'I do violence professionally.'

Where the hell had she come from? Theodore hadn't sensed her at all. Nothing from [Arcane Awareness], no mana signature, no footsteps. From the way Freya had tensed up, she hadn't noticed either.

"How did you find this place?" the woman continued, her hand already starting to glow with some kind of energy. Lightning? "No matter. Trespassers will be dealt with."

She attacked.

Theodore didn't hesitate. When someone came at you with that kind of killing intent, you didn't stand around asking questions. He compressed plasma down to the size of a button and launched it at her face. Then another at her chest. Another at her legs. While simultaneously crushing down with his aura, trying to lock her in place.

Freya moved at the same time, flames erupting around her fists as she closed the distance.

The woman slapped Theodore's plasma aside. She frowned, glancing at her palm where it smoked slightly, but otherwise seemed unbothered. Her other arm came up to block Freya's punch, not even budging from the impact.

Oh. This was bad.

Freya was grinning.

Theodore knew that look. That was the "I'm about to stop holding back" look.

Uh oh.

Freya didn't play around in real fights. Sparring with him? Sure, she'd play around. But when she identified a real threat? When she found someone actually worth fighting?

She went for the throat.

Her hair burst into flames, rising from her scalp like she'd become some kind of fire elemental. The temperature spiked so fast Theodore's eyes watered. Her aura exploded outward, raw power that made the air itself heavy, and she punched with her other fist.

The pavement under the black-haired woman's feet cracked. She sank an inch into the ground from the power alone. Spider web fractures spread out from where she stood, bits of stone actually lifting up from the force.

The woman looked startled for about half a second. Then lightning started crackling around her, blue-white arcs that made Theodore's hair stand on end. This was about to get messy.

Freya was about to attack when—

Everything stopped.

Time itself had been put on pause. Theodore could see it happening—Freya's flames frozen mid-flicker, the lightning around the other woman caught between one arc and the next. Even the air felt solid, like breathing through honey.

But Theodore could still think. Still see. He was locked in place, couldn't move a muscle, but he was aware.

From the corner of his vision, there was movement. The mysterious woman in black walked into view, same as always. Death warmed over and then frozen again. She moved through the frozen world like it was perfectly normal. She tapped Freya on the forehead and then tapped the black-haired woman too. Then looked at Theodore lazily.

It seemed she didn't expect seeing what she did, because her eyes widened just a fraction. She schooled her expression just as quickly. She'd realized he was still aware.

That meant she had meant for him to be frozen too.

Huh.

She smiled.

"Well well," she said, though he couldn't tell if she was actually speaking or if he was somehow hearing her thoughts. "Aren't you full of surprises?"

Time resumed.

Freya's flames went out like someone had dumped water on them. The lightning around the black-haired woman fizzled into nothing. Both of them blinked, confused.

The black-haired woman's confusion lasted about a heartbeat before recognition flooded her face. She immediately bowed deeply. "Master."

The woman in black nodded. "Senna. At ease. They're invited."

Freya, on the other hand, was staring at the woman in black with an expression Theodore had never seen before.

Hunger.

Pure, undiluted hunger.

Theodore was starting to think bringing Freya had been a mistake.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.