Inquisitorial aftermath aside, the girls spent their evening largely in silence, each engrossed in their own thoughts. They spent the first few hours reviewing their options and reliving the interview in minute detail. Each of them was given a chance to present their thoughts on the matter, though none of them had come up with anything particularly helpful, as far as plans went.

If the five were at all lucky, then this would all blow over in a few days—maybe even before the week was out. Perhaps they'd return to find that their classification had already been resolved. Maybe it really was as simple as honesty.

Then again, maybe they were being unreasonably optimistic about their circumstances. It all depended on how the Magisterium perceived their risks and potentials.

Ultimately, the best option—which they quickly settled on—seemed to be riding the wave while attempting to figure out the questions before Beatrix did. From everything they'd seen of their 'regulator,' she was more thorough than she was quick-minded, a welcome fact when it came to dodging official bureaucratic intervention.

The next morning was thankfully spent as any other in Amaranth. The girls took some time to recover and relax, unwind from the stress of the prior days. Each had been more than a little shaken by the reality of facing Beatrix, Valerian, and Galen as a united force, and they intended to recover with plenty of hot chocolate, chatter, and jokes.

Ash opted for a bath, sinking into the steaming water and relishing the warmth while it lasted. Steam rose around her in wispy, twisting tendrils, leaving the rest of the world distant and hazy. With a sigh, she submerged her head completely, holding her breath for what felt like several minutes without growing short of air.

As she emerged, the world had slipped away.

Cinder spent her morning idly sparring with Pyra on a flat, grassy section of land beyond the compound's borders. They traded blows effortlessly, responding to one another's attacks with aggressive laughter. It felt good to practice their combat skills and let off some steam. Cinder eventually beat back Pyra's fire blasts and smacks, pinning her to the ground in surrender.

"I love you," Pyra giggled, "but this sucks."

Ember indulged in some time alone in the city. She spent a few hours window-shopping with what little money they had remaining before venturing farther into the sprawling complex that was Amaranth, mapping out new locations as well as she could. There was little question that she would get lost at some point, but the journey was the part worth taking.

Bookstores, jewelry shops, art galleries, and everything in between. The sights were enough to dazzle her, to lose herself in the experience. For now, they were a welcome distraction from the haunting possibility of containment.

Beatrix was, after all, a force to be reckoned with.

Kindle had spent her time talking to others in their compound. Everyone, she found, had an opinion on the five—and they were all quite willing to share theirs. She quickly found it was best not to linger too long on any one topic, lest she be barraged with a mess of different questions and comments.

Fortunately, she was getting good at polite escapes.

By nightfall, the day had ended as quietly as it had begun, leaving them to make sense of their chaotic thoughts over food and a round of cards. Spark, of course, insisted on sitting in his favorite spot beside Pyra, though his attention rapidly shifted from face to face.

"We can't overthink this," Cinder said between bites of chicken. "If anything, we need a plan going forward."

"It'll work itself out in the end," Kindle said. "We just need to wait it out."

"And if that doesn't work?" Ember prodded. "I'm not sure what our options are."

Pyra shrugged, cradling Spark against her chest. "At this point, it's probably just a matter of cooperating. We haven't done anything wrong."

Ash shook her head, sighing as she played one card after another. "I'm more worried about how Beatrix took it. Her initial assessment of our potential has to play into this, at least a little. She seems like the kind of person who expects the worst."

"Wouldn't you, though?" Ember mused, letting a silence hang, then sighed and tapped the table to continue. "Think about it. We come in here without registering, talk circles around her about what we can do, then decide to stick to that same story once she demands explanations. If I were her, I'd probably try to make up my own conclusion to justify my concerns."

Kindle shrugged, tossing her cards onto the table with a flourish. "Worst-case scenario. If it doesn't work, we can just leave, right?"

"And go where, exactly?" Cinder replied, still caught on Pyra's words. "This is like... the magical capital of the region. We could just pick up and leave at some point if it gets too serious, but I'm not sure what our next step would be in that case. We have all our resources here."

Pyra stuck her nose into the air. "I think we're just being super negative, and we should eat more and solve our problems with snacks."

"She's not wrong," Kindle laughed, digging through the pantry for a tin of macaroons.

"You can't just treat this like an obstacle, though," Ash replied. "We only get so many chances to resolve it with her. We need a long-term plan."

Cinder drew a card. "So, what?"

"I don't know what to do." She set her cards down, rubbing at her eyes. "If we want to leave, then we need to be ready to do that."

Spark warbled his support.

Cinder scratched him under the chin. "We're not in danger right now."

Ash shrugged, deflecting the comment with a gesture. "What if we get reclassified as a threat?"

"We already proved we aren't. Even Galen said we're safe to run loose."

"Not exactly in those words," Ember said, watching Cinder take a turn.

"But close enough." She set a card down and tapped for Ash to take her turn.

Ember shook her head, eyeing the hand carefully. "I think we should stay positive. Nothing bad's happened so far, and nothing bad's happened over the last two days. Doesn't that bode well for the future, at least in a general sense?"

Kindle shrugged, tossing her cards face-down with a groan. She leaned back in her chair, looking them over. "They can't seriously mean to harm us. If they wanted to, then it already would've happened."

Spark nuzzled in against Pyra's arms, huffing and blowing small tongues of flame into the air to cheer everyone up. His antics helped dispel their gloomy thoughts, at least for a moment, leaving a brief peace in the wake of his flames.

"So," Cinder sighed, setting her cards down as well, "what're we going to do with ourselves?"

"Eat all the snacks, and nap together?" Pyra suggested. "We could all use a little TLC."

Cinder stood up, stretching with a dramatic yawn. "I'm all for snacks, and I'll have as much cuddling as I can get out of all of you."

"Yeah!" Pyra cheered, propping Spark upright on the table. "Team cuddle time."

Spark's warbles seemed like an enthusiastic assent.

Their attempt at domestic tranquility lasted exactly three more hours.

The knock came just as Pyra had successfully convinced everyone to migrate to the sitting room for what she'd dubbed "therapeutic pile formation"—five women and one fire salamander arranged in a complex tangle of limbs and shared warmth. Spark had claimed the center of the arrangement, purring with the deep satisfaction of a creature who'd successfully trained his humans to provide optimal heating conditions.

"Ignore it," Cinder mumbled from her position as designated the pillow for Kindle's head. "Whatever bureaucratic nonsense is on the other side of that door can wait until we've achieved proper snuggle equilibrium."

The knocking persisted, accompanied by the sort of official throat-clearing that suggested ignoring it wouldn't make it disappear.

"That's Henrik's knock," Ember sighed, recognizing the Brightblade butler's precisely measured rapping. "Three sets of four, pause, repeat. He's been trained for maximum politeness with underlying urgency."

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"I vote we pretend to be asleep," Pyra whispered, though Spark's responding chirp rather undermined the illusion.

"Fractured Flame?" Henrik's voice carried through the door with the sort of professional courtesy that brooked no argument. "Lady Cordelia requests your presence in the family study at your earliest convenience."

"Earliest convenience," Ash repeated softly. "A phrase that means 'immediately' while maintaining the pretense of choice."

Kindle groaned, extricating herself from the pile with the reluctance of someone leaving a perfectly heated bed on a winter morning. "Can't nobles handle their own problems for like, five minutes?"

"Apparently not," Ember replied, already smoothing her clothes and checking her appearance. After weeks of noble sponsorship, she'd developed an instinct for when politeness masked serious business.

They disentangled themselves with the sort of group coordination that came from extensive practice at being summoned. Spark, displaced from his comfortable perch, expressed his displeasure through a series of increasingly dramatic huffs.

"Stay here, troublemaker," Pyra told him, scratching behind his ridged scales. "Guard the fort. If anyone tries to search our quarters while we're gone, feel free to demonstrate why fire salamanders make excellent security systems."

Spark's answering chirp carried distinctly malicious undertones.

The Brightblade family study had been transformed since their last visit. Additional chairs had been arranged in a precise semicircle, suggesting this wasn't going to be an intimate family chat. Legal documents covered the mahogany desk in neat stacks, their official seals catching the lamplight like tiny accusations.

Lady Cordelia stood with her back to the door, silhouetted against tall windows that looked out over Amaranth's glittering expanse. Her rigid posture suggested the sort of conversation that began with phrases like "we need to discuss" and ended with everyone feeling vaguely threatened.

Lord Aldric occupied his usual chair, but his military bearing had shifted from relaxed authority to active tension. Marcus lurked near the fireplace with the hangdog expression of someone who'd been thoroughly lectured and found wanting.

"Ah, our guests arrive," Cordelia said without turning around. "Please, be seated. We have several matters to discuss."

Ember took the lead, settling into the center chair with diplomatic poise. Her sister-selves arranged themselves on either side, unconsciously forming a protective formation despite the supposedly friendly environment.

"Henrik mentioned urgency," Ember said carefully. "Has something happened?"

Cordelia finally turned, her usually composed features showing cracks of strain around the edges. "Magistrate Cawel paid us a visit this afternoon. A social call, she claimed, though her definition of 'social' apparently includes detailed discussions of magical classification protocols and their implications for sponsored individuals."

Cinder's expression sharpened. "What kind of implications?"

"The restrictive kind," Aldric replied, his weathered face grim. "It seems your recent interview with the Magisterium has raised questions about the nature of our sponsorship arrangement."

"Specifically," Cordelia continued, "whether House Brightblade can be held responsible for the actions of individuals whose magical capabilities remain... unclassified."

Pyra's flames flickered briefly before she suppressed them. "They're threatening you because of us?"

"Not threatening, precisely," Marcus spoke up from his corner, earning sharp looks from both his parents. "More like... strongly suggesting that continued association with unresolved magical anomalies might reflect poorly on our family's commitment to civic order."

"Marcus," Aldric warned.

"What? They should know what they're dealing with. The Magistrate made it clear that our sponsorship is under review pending your classification. If you're deemed unstable or uncontrollable—"

"That's enough," Cordelia cut him off sharply. "We're not abandoning our commitments based on political pressure."

"But we are being pressured," Ember said, reading between the lines. "They want you to distance yourselves from us."

Cordelia's silence was answer enough.

Kindle shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "So what happens now? Do we pretend to be normal until the Magisterium makes up their minds?"

"There's another complication," Aldric said heavily. "The Guild has received a formal request for detailed records of your mission performance. Every contract, every completion time, every witness statement."

"That's..." Ash paused, her usual philosophical detachment cracking slightly. "That sounds like the prelude to a comprehensive investigation."

"It is," Cordelia confirmed. "Which means your previous strategy of maintaining a low profile while demonstrating competence has become untenable. You're under active scrutiny from multiple angles."

The study fell silent except for the steady tick of an antique clock that seemed to be marking time until some unspecified deadline.

Ember found herself studying the legal documents spread across the desk, noting the official seals and dense text. "Those papers—they're contingency plans, aren't they? Ways to modify or terminate our sponsorship agreement if circumstances require it."

"Precautionary measures only," Cordelia said quickly, but her tone lacked conviction. "We wanted to understand our options should the situation deteriorate further."

"Of course," Cinder said with bitter humor. "Wouldn't want to be caught unprepared if your sponsored anomalies become too politically inconvenient."

"That's not—" Aldric began, then stopped, apparently unable to complete the denial with a straight face.

Pyra stood abruptly, her movement sudden enough to make Marcus flinch. "You know what? This is ridiculous. We came here seeking help with a magical problem, not to become anyone's political liability."

"Pyra," Ember warned, recognizing the particular quality of flame that preceded dramatic pronouncements.

"No, I'm serious. We've been trying so hard to fit into everyone else's expectations—the Guild's, the Magisterium's, yours—that we've forgotten we have options."

"Such as?" Kindle asked, though her tone suggested she was following Pyra's logic.

"Such as the fact that we can literally outrun any pursuit this city could mount," Cinder said slowly, pieces clicking into place. "We're not prisoners here. We're not even really dependent on anyone's goodwill."

"The sponsorship agreement—" Marcus started.

"Is a contract, not a chain," Ash interrupted, her smoky tendrils beginning to swirl with agitation. "Contracts can be renegotiated. Or abandoned entirely."

Ember felt the familiar sensation of five minds reaching the same conclusion through different paths. "We need to think. Clearly. Away from political pressure and bureaucratic expectations."

"Away from here," Pyra added, her excitement building as the idea took shape. "Somewhere we can figure out what we actually want instead of just reacting to what everyone else demands."

Cordelia stepped forward, alarm flickering across her composed features. "Now, let's not make hasty decisions based on temporary setbacks—"

"Are they temporary?" Kindle asked pointedly. "Because it sounds like the pressure's only going to increase."

"We appreciate everything House Brightblade has done for us," Ember said formally, rising from her chair. "But perhaps it's time to reassess our arrangement from a position of clarity rather than crisis."

"You're leaving," Aldric stated, his military experience allowing him to recognize strategic withdrawal when he saw it.

"We're thinking," Cinder corrected. "There's a difference."

"And if you decide not to return?" Cordelia asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

"Then at least it will be our decision," Ash replied. "Made with full knowledge of the consequences rather than fear of the alternatives."

They moved toward the door with the coordinated precision of people who'd made up their collective mind. Cordelia called after them, her diplomatic composure finally cracking.

"Where will you go? What about your belongings? Your commitments?"

Ember paused at the threshold, considering. "Somewhere we can remember who we were before we became everyone else's problem. As for commitments..." She shrugged. "We'll honor the ones that matter."

"And the ones that don't?" Marcus asked.

Pyra's grin carried just enough heat to make the air shimmer. "Those can burn."

They packed with the efficient speed of people who'd learned to travel light and move fast. Essential items only—clothes, weapons, the few personal possessions that had survived their various adventures. Spark supervised the process with the keen interest of a creature who recognized preparation for departure.

"Guild contracts?" Ember asked, stuffing documents into a leather satchel.

"Left a completion report with Kaelin," Cinder replied. "Professional courtesy."

"Magisterium obligations?"

"What obligations?" Pyra said cheerfully. "They wanted to study us, not the other way around."

"Brightblade agreements?"

"Suspended pending reassessment of mutual benefit," Ash said, not looking up from her writing. "Which is our diplomatic way of saying 'figure your own problems out, you're not the only ones with complications.' I left a note."

Kindle emerged from the bathroom carrying toiletries and Spark's grooming supplies. "Where exactly are we going? Because 'somewhere to think clearly' is a bit vague for navigation purposes."

"Thaddeus," they said in unison, the answer arriving with the certainty of instinct.

Of course. The gruff old wizard who'd first helped them navigate Eldorian society, who'd asked for nothing more than honest work in exchange for guidance. The cottage where they'd learned their new names and chosen their first path forward.

"We should probably use the front door this time," Ember said thoughtfully. "Show up like civilized people instead of interdimensional disasters."

"Where's the fun in that?" Pyra asked, though her tone was more wistful than serious.

"In not destroying his prize vegetables again," Cinder replied dryly. "The man's been nothing but kind to us. Maybe we could try not repaying that kindness with agricultural devastation."

"Plus, he'll probably lecture us for an hour if we wreck his cabbages," Kindle added. "And his lectures are worse than his tea."

Spark chirped his agreement, or possibly his disappointment at the lack of planned chaos. With fire salamanders, the distinction was often academic.

"Ready?" Ember asked, shouldering her pack.

Four nods answered her. They moved toward the door, Spark latching onto Pyra's back and chittering softly at the prospect of travel.

"Think anyone will try to stop us?" Kindle asked.

"Let them try," Pyra replied, flames dancing briefly around her fingertips before subsiding. "We're done being other people's complications."

"Time to remember what we want instead of what everyone else expects," Ash agreed.

They walked out the front entrance into the waning afternoon sunlight, leaving behind the weight of political expectations and bureaucratic scrutiny. Ahead lay the road to a cottage where an old wizard grew vegetables and asked honest questions.

It felt like going home.

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.