But those words never reach her mouth. They don't ever try to get out. Maybe is because she feels guilty about taking those books, and she knew she shouldn't have stolen them (her sister would have insisted on saying “borrowed”, since she never intended to keep them and she did bring back the ones she was finished with, but she had to be at least honest with herself). At least, she really, really wants to believe that.

-Well,- he smiles -those books are old. And Thokavne is a moron. Let's find you better ones, shall we?

He is definitely smiling. She forces herself to curve the lips, just a little, while he gingerly walks out, telling her to follow him.

By the evening, the whole house knows. Maese already knew, actually, but they still act like she's finding it out for the first time too (she acts, at least, Filros just says nothing, she's aware of being painfully easy to read, but luckily this time she'd be too nervous to say anything even if she wanted). Soon, all the books she took are returned to their proper places, but Calveth gives her new (and better) ones. Lua'Ren gives her a desk and a place of her own to study, surrounded by the greenest bit of vegetation. She says that's like being in Syngorn, and Calveth agrees. Filros has to trust them on this one, but it's surely no sand. She is also free to study and practice as much as she likes, and doing it openly, and soon enough she does little else during the days.

It's good. It really is. And everyone, she included, is happy. Then why she feels there's something wrong? She should feel at home, and yet she feels an outsider now more than ever.

-There's someone you have to meet.

Ratek is enthusiastic, he always is. She checks Maese to be sure. There is one hint of uneasiness, but that's it.

-Who are they?

-He is, well, you have to meet him, but he is someone who knows. He can help you.

-He's a bit of a mystery. Brings small trinkets to the children from time to time, weird ones. Sometimes he helps with a difficult access...

-You mean he picks locks.

-Well, not really, he barely even touches the door, he just comes, murmurs...

-You mean he picks locks with magic.

-Your assumption, I never asked for details. He also gives advices. Like how not to get caught, safest streets, if someone's incoming...

-And he can help and you and he interested so you are coming to meet him this afternoon.

No comment from Maese. She won't help her wiggle out this time. Curse her, she is not that good doing that on her own.

-I really... I...

Ratek has an answer ready, she can see that. But she doesn't know what to say, or just can't say it, so it's unnecessary anyway.

-Good!

She waits until Ratek is out of sight. When she starts functioning normally again.

-What's the catch?

-Ask him.

-No, there's something you are not telling me.

Maese shrugs.

-I just don't like other having the advantage, and he's good at keeping his. No one knows where he lives, or what he looks like, and he is always the one finding others. He has clearly been in the game for a while.

There's more than a hint of admiration in her words. Maese is good at lying at their parents, but never hid from Filros her ambition to take the Meat Man place. Possibly changing the name.

-Perhaps we can both learn something from him.

She expected the meeting place to be some obscure and hard to reach back alley. Instead, they lead her to the side of the baker, a little more than a hundred yards away from their home. In the middle of the street, not even trying to hide. Yet no one pays attention to them, or to the other man.

She immediately notices a couple of things. Filros isn't short by any mean. At 14, she was taller than Lua'Ren. At 16, she was taller than Calveth. And it wasn't until she was 19 than she stopped. Since then, she had been the tallest person in the house, and only when a small party of Goliath came in town she found someone taller than she was. The boy was hunched, but even so she could tell that, had he stood up, he would have easily been an inch or two taller than her.

The boy is tall. And he is, as mentioned, a boy. Her siblings described him as much more experienced, but there is just something... lacking. Not hardened, not rough enough, to be really a man. She wonders how she could tell, since, however young the feature she can glance at under the hood looked, he still looks a tad older than her.

There is also something feral in those features. Something unmistakably savage. The shape of the face is wrong, not enough to seem inhuman, but enough to be uncanny. He has too many hair on his body, a bit too thick, they are closer to be fur, and his skin is of a wrong shade of brown. His teeth and nails aren't fang and claws, but are certainly weapons. He looks more gentle than any book has ever described them, but if that is because he isn't a pureblood of because the story were exaggerated, she can't tell. She has never met anyone of orcish blood before.

-So, is that the prodigal enchantress I heard so much about?

The voice is as deep as one would expect, but pleasantly so. It's calm, friendly, and with an unmistakable warmth to it (a saying that, she is sure, was made by someone who didn't live in a desert).

-It's a pleasure to meet you in person, at last.

She can't say the same. There's something wrong, something off with all of that. He acts friendly, never pushing her to answer if she doesn't want to, always kind. And yet she can't be at ease around him. Her instincts scream to her that he is dangerous, and that he's keeping something from her, possibly something big.

She would wonder a lot if, in the end, it's merely because of his race. She doesn't think so, and she hopes there's something more, something she can feel, but can't quite grasp, but she can be sure it doesn't all boil down to that. Some days, she wonders if it isn't that she can't decide, but that she knows the truth and doesn't want to admit it.

There is one last detail she notices, just before they leave. The one thing the Cape insists on is that they shake hands before parting the first time. Something about ancient traditions and bad omens, it'd seem. In doing so, his left sleeves slides a bit downward, and before he pulls it absentmindedly back up, she sees a small, shining white rhombus. A rune.

He doesn't seem to have noticed it, or care about it. But he was the one who insisted on shaking hands.

The only certain thing is that it's dragon's piss. For a given definition of “certain”.

No one really knows what is that liquid dripping from a drainpipe at the edges of J'Mon's palace, placed in such a way that it ends on a desert area, only that it's slightly yellow and with a strong, acrid smell. But it plays well with one of the most popular stories of Ank'Harel's children.

Everyone knows that a mighty and mysterious dragon helped the legendary Vox Machina in their two toughest battle: the fall of the Cinder King and the sealing of the Undying Emperor. The adventurers had had a close relationship with the Ank'Harelian merchant Shaun Gilmore for a long time back then, and had come to the city themselves looking for allies and artifacts to help them in their task. It was then decided that the dragon must had come from, or worked for, the city. Many stories had Shaun Gilmore being himself the dragon (the fact that both the dragon and Gilmore were reported to have fought that battle either proved or disproved the theory, it all depended on who you asked it too), but the mysterious nature of the city's ruler and their palace made another, more popular theory, according to which the dragon was one of the first servant of the undying J'Mon, leaving in their palace (or beneath it, or whatever logistic the narrator found that made sense to them), to come in the city's defense in the times of need.

And, since they are kids and that liquid was kind of yellow, it has to be dragon's piss.

And right after that the semi-serious dare of taking a cup of it and drinking it is born. Because what's the point otherwise?

Filros has never seen anyone taking it seriously. It's mostly used as a joke, or a taunt for the picked upon member on the group when they happened to be near the semi-hidden pipe. When she's around, that kid it's usually her. If Maese isn't around, or is distracted, that kid is always her.

She rarely goes there with other children.

She finds herself thinking about that (piss) substance more and more often after her decision of studying magic. She has a plan. She knows Calveth has some books, even two, or three, copies of certain ones, about it, that keeps in their shop, and aren't checked very often. She only has to take on of them and read it, then she will see. It will most likely be too complex to understand, and she will bring it back and forget it ever happened.

But what if it isn't? She can produce flames from her hands, can't she? Her eyes change their brightness according to her mindset and emotions, and sometimes harmless sparks or smoke come from her, and she is learning she can control them. According to Lua'Ren it's a Genasi natural trait, and Maese can do similar things too (and so Ratek, although his tricks are water-based), but that doesn't mean it can't still be magic, does it?

For two weeks she goes there, next to the books, and then just stares. She just stares, for a while, and sheepishly goes back. One days, she does it four different times.

And so, she thinks about the dragon's piss. Which is stupid, but still happens, make it also annoying. But still, she founds herself thinking about it, and wandering toward the pipe when she walks through the city.

It takes her a while to understand. Being around that pipe made her uneasy, in more way the one (the stupid dare, the mockery, being surrounded by strangers, the uncertainty of not knowing what was your place in all of that and feeling you shouldn't even be there), and she came to associate it with everything that makes her uncomfortable.

So she makes a decision. Not a particularly bright one, but she makes one. It takes her a couple of day to gather the resolve to actually do that, but one day she takes a cup, leaves home, reaches the pipe, takes a bit of that (piss) liquid and drinks it.

And she immediately regrets it. The flavor is awful, but that's a minor issue, because it's just so strong. Not like alcohol, or spices. Both are said to “burn”, their own way, but that thing, whatever it is, that burns. That thing is almost literally like liquid fire. And she makes the obvious joke that she should know it, which brings her to her tears.

Interestingly, that liquid is also really, really sweet.

Things change after that. She proved a point to herself, despite everything. That very evening, she takes the books and begins her studies.

But not before thoroughly washing off that taste.

When Calven announces that the Lyceum answered, it doesn't seem real.

They've talked about it, over and over. She worked with Calveth to craft the proper presentation and write the proper request, a task that took them weeks of uncertainty. And yet, even when they sent that, it all seemed so distant. She just assumed that no one would have mentioned that ever again. She didn't think they would get, or read, the letter.

But they did. And they answered. And they wanted her to come, to be tested. And just like that, the world changes, and it becomes all too real.

She is not the one who announces it at her family. Calveth is. Her siblings congratulates immediately, and so does Lua'Ren. She says nothing of her worries, and just accepts their joy for her. Going to the Lyceum is going to be good, actually. Magic, studying, researching: it's what it wants, and it could hardly be better. In a couple of days, she considers that moving to Emon might end up be a good thing in itself. She has her family in Ank'Arhel but that's about it. Maese and Ratek can do their best, but she always feel like an outsider when she walks the city. Maybe being actually one will help her. Maybe it'll all make sense then, and she will find her place. Maybe, when she'll be back, she'll know how to properly... live.

Slowly, the idea actually grows on her. The anxiety evaporates, and makes space to something else. A weird sense of thrill, of excitement. It's unlike her, unlike anything she experienced, and she actually likes that. What she is isn't worth much, after, novity is unlikely to hurt.

It doesn't take long for the Cape to know about it too.

It has been more than a month from his last contact. She hoped it meant he lost interest, but apparently she is wrong. Her family didn't properly tell it about anyone, but she can think of a couple of ways he could have learned that. Letters must to go through a couple of hands to be sent and received, after all. Also, Ratek.

The Cape, as always, is really nice and polite about it. He shows sincere interest, and she feels that he's not faking it (not entirely, at least), but that doesn't help. He doesn't try to approach it gradually, or soften it in any other way. Underneath his friendly attitude, he acts like it's natural that he knows about it, and he is supposed to have his say about it. It gets even more obvious in the next few meetings, which starts being much more frequent.

Even the meetings themselves feel different. They are him calling her. He still acts like those are just friendly chat, and she tries to go along with it, but it's pretty obvious they aren't, and they were never supposed to be. He acts like he owns her, and those chats are either a test or a way to prove it.

That put an end to all her doubts. She has to go away, to start again somewhere else. Somewhere she doesn't feel so alone, or out of place. Where she doesn't feel oppressed by secrets. She knows that now.

Tal'Dorei is cool. She didn't expect that. She has to cover herself a lot more, and there's always this sort of... stillness... in the air. She misses the warmth of Marquet. She realizes now how it made she feel alive, feeling it run through herself. It was like sharing something with the land. Still, she wanted something new, and she definitely got it. It taught her something new about herself, for starters. That's it, see the good side.

Her cousin doesn't seem to have the same problem, her clothes seems quite light. They also allow her to see some well-defined muscles. They mentioned something like monks in the letters, but she understood it was more about meditating. Interesting.

The first meeting is, as always, awkward. They basically exchange names, and then Sailia takes her to the closest inn.

Sleeping in a new bed is weird. And she has some trouble sleeping in the first place. She will have a day or two to see the city, and that's it, then there'll be the test. She never spent time with another arcanist, and now she will have (one? Two? Many? She realizes she has no idea about how it actually works) watching and judging her. But it will be alright, won't it? She has to pass. Right?

What if she doesn't?

She realizes she fell asleep only when Sailia wakes her up in the morning. The sun doesn't shine as much as it should. She thought it was because she arrived in the evening, but no, she now realizes it's actually how it is. It isn't really that big of a difference, on its own. It's just one more thing to get used to.

The test itself seems to go pretty well at first. She knows the answers, she can cast spells, and everything. She is convinced to have made a really good impression. Until she looks at the examiners' face. At all of their faces. They are clearly not convinced by something. They just leave the room, muttering, talking between them. She can't hear them, but she knows it can't be good.

The morning passes, and so does the afternoon. Others come in, from time to time. They ask her more questions but, mostly, make her cast spell and take notes while she obliges, then leave, without answering any of her questions.

The sun is almost setting when one of the original examiners comes in. An Elf called o something. Todani? Tocari? Tomari, Tomari Colven. He holds her spellbook in one hand.

-I must be honest, your spellbook leaved us really, really impressed. Don't misunderstand me, it's not perfect and could be improve. We would commend a similar display in our students, from an applicant... Well, you should be rightfully be proud. So, why don't you follow your own instructions when you cast those spells?

-We considered a few possibilities. Like you stealing the book, or copying it. But we couldn't find any evidence of this, on the contrary, the more we delved the more it looked like your book. Make it all the strangest.

She doesn't know how to answer to that. She never believed that would have been a problem. She knows the formulae, but when she casts her spell, she just feels something more behind it. Some other way to weave magic's threads, and just... Isn't that the whole point of magic? Creation, possibilities, seeing the essence of the world and shaping it into something more, something new, something unique. That's one of the main reasons she started to pursue that knowledge, to find a way of leaving her mark. To find her place. And if that's what's wrong...

She realizes just then the uncharacteristic length of the silence. Tomari is waiting for her to speak, to explain herself. But what can she say? She doesn't know if she can explain what it means to her. But that's not the whole truth. She is not sure, but she could try, She doesn't fear failure, she doesn't think it can hurt. What she fears is what happens if she succeeds, and he has an answer for it.

She's been silent for too long, however, and Tomalvi is tired of waiting.

-There are multiple reasons why spells are codified in a certain way. Magic is many things, but we should never forget that amongst them it's dangerous, and difficult of control. The era of arcanum showed us all very well what happens when it's abused, or misused, and I'm sure I need not to remind you that not all that happen during the Calamity was due to ill intentions.

-Experimentation is fine, and development is encouraged,but in due time, and taking appropriate precautions. Honestly, your skill set could pretty much assure you a future and a relatively fast career in here but, frankly, that will require going through at least five years of regular training here, and done properly. If you accept, we will take you in and teach you, but as things are now, you are just another sorcerer.

Sailia has an idea. It takes a while, at first. Neither of them is really that outgoing, and after the meeting (the failure) Filros less in a talking mood than usual. But it comes out, eventually. Adventuring. It's not unheard of for wizards, after all. Many opportunities to see new libraries and find lost knowledge. Their parents did that too, when they were younger.

And so Filros finally knows that. She and her siblings always suspected that, of course. There are not many ways you can get the weirdly specific knowledge they showed sometimes, or the rare items they kept in their bedroom (where they weren't supposed to go and look, but really, he should have known children better than that), not to mention Genasi children. They could have been criminals, though. Maese loves that theory. Well, they still could have been, actually, there's nothing against it. Filros smiles, thinking about her reaction.

And then her smile fades. She has to write them. She has to tell them that she was rejected, that she failed.

They did not take me in. Sailia is showing me Tal'Dorei.

It takes her different tries, and she can't manage to write more than that. It's not enough, but she just can't write more, she can't stand the thought of them learning about it. They were just so sure of her success. So, even if it's too little, she sends the letter, and leaves with Sailia, without looking back.

Lia is good company. After the first few days of awkwardness, they find out that they like each other's company. She worries a bit too much about her, as if she believes Filros to be her responsibility now. In the first tendays or so, it borders on hyper protective, then she becomes more reasonable about it. But she still never lets her guard down too much.

Adventuring is interesting. Traveling in itself it's not the most exciting thing ever. She doesn't mind it that much, but when they found inns to stay she appreciates having an actual bed to sleep on, and all the other comforts. But seeing the new continent is interesting. Filros puts all her concerns and doubts for the future aside, for a while, and just enjoys travelling with Lia. She knows something's missing. Magic books don't come by easily, and there's only so much she can do without new material to study, plus always moving doesn't really help you find time for research. But she will deal with that later. Right now, she is fine with just discovering the new continent. She only misses the warmth of Marquet. Tal'Dorei isn't inherently cold, but it feels... Dull. It's like part of her is being doused all the time. She wonders how can Lia not feel that. She avoids thinking of her house (and the people waiting there), but some nights, when she is not really wake, but neither yet sleeping, she can't help thinking back to her city, the brightness and gentle kiss of her sun, bringing life to her body and fire to her veins.

They visit a lot of small towns. A roof over your head is safer, if you can afford it. Plus, they have to buy rations (Lia can be stealthy enough, and Filros' spells can be decent substitutes for a bow, but that isn't enough to make the two of them really good at hunting), mend clothes, buy other items, and try to find odd jobs to get some money to pay for it (the owl one will remain the weirdest one). Plus, sightseeing. This brings them to Kimal, one day. A city like many others, Filros would say, but to be honest she never quite “got” cities. It all changes when they reach the cemetery. Her crow loves cemeteries and, to be fair, she doesn't mind them either. There's a sense of peace coming from them that she can't properly explain (and, she learned at a young age, makes most people uneasy). She doesn't get cities, but she can get cemeteries, usually. And this one is different. Not many of them host people singing cheery songs.

She follows the sound, and that leads her to a young, green-haired girl. She is completely dressed in black, with a huge hat that screams “witch” to anyone able to see it (and even more so after noticing the bat sleeping on it), handling a shovel almost as tall as her, digging a grave in a way that shows it's not the first (or tenth) time she does that.

They are angry. They all are. She can feel it, she can see it. They are judging. How it’s always her, how it always ends like that, with her getting hurt and needing to be taken care of. She is a liability, and she can not be trusted. They know it.

Sifrat doesn’t seem to be judging her too much. She thinks so, at least. She doesn’t really understand or read him well. He seems to be a good man, but that’s about it.

Zekee disapproves. Vocally. She has been against it from the beginning, and she is reminding everyone of it. She is eyeing her while she says that. She’s looking at her the same way she did back then, in the laboratory, when Ysan let go of the sphere.

There had been some difficulty with Zekee from the beginning. She is a good one. A bit too enthusiastic maybe, but kind. Caring. Fiercely protective, sometimes. And yet there was something that just didn’t work between them. It’s something that happens, sometimes. She never understood why, she still doesn’t, and probably never will. It usually is just particularly annoying, but this time it hurt. This time it happened with one of the good people.

When a couple of days ago it seemed like they connected, she thought they were fixing it. Maybe she was too hasty.

Bryn is harder to read. He seemed more quiet about it, but she is never really sure about him, no matter how hard she tries. And she tried, a bit too hard, actually.

Something has changed since their conversation. She decided she trusts him, he seemed to do the same. She isn’t really sure about what happened, but it seems to be working.

Bryn wants to be a good person, she’s sure of it. Whether he is one or not… There was something bad in his past. She is just not sure if it comes from something that happened to him, or from someone he has been.

Ysan is a different kind of quiet. He is worried, it’s pretty easy to tell.

The big “T” we found with the dryads shook him even more than usual. He seem even more restless than usual.

Some days, she is afraid of finding out he left them. He seems constantly uneasy. He doesn’t think he deserves any of this. He doesn’t think he even deserves a chance.

He has no home. But whatever he has left behind might feel like it. Out here, with us, everything is new, everything is different. In the past, no matter what it was, there was familiarity. Nostalgia. It’s a powerful charm. And sometimes, she can see it at work in his eyes.

She wonders what it must be like, having something left behind.

Anyway, he won’t leave, not soon. Zekee seems to like travelling with them, and wherever they go, they go together. He’s with them as long as Zekee is.

Would he have any other reason to stay?

Ofelia sleeps, quietly and happily. There was no reason to disturb her and wake her up. She is fine, she doesn’t need her. She never did.

Lia is worried, of course. She has felt responsible for her safety since they met. And, to be honest, she makes it a very hard job.

Poor Lia. She doesn’t deserve it. She doesn’t deserve the stress, or the responsibility.

She remembers the Scar. When Lia hit the ground and stopped breathing. The cold sense of urgency, the need to protect her and ensure her safety, with any mean necessary. Nothing else seemed to matter anymore.

And she remembers keeping watch. She remembers playing that morning over and over again in her head, wondering if she could have done anything different, if she could have prevented that. She remembers feeling utterly powerless, able to only wait and hope for the best.

And then she actually realized how Lia felt every time. It was too much. She didn’t deserve it.

She understood, or so she believed. She decided to be more careful. She owed it to Lia. She really believed she could have done it.

Another failure.

The worst thing is that she knows. She knows the risks, she knows the consequences, she really does. They just never seem important. It’s not that she doesn’t consider failure, or doesn’t think the worst could happen. It’s just that, when it’s about her, she doesn’t care. Even now, it went poorly, and yet doesn’t matter. But it should, shouldn’t it?

When they had their fight with the Clasp, they threw an hallucinogen, the kind that evokes your fears. She saw the Cape.

Ysan fell victim of it too. She never asked what he saw. Another thing she keeps forgetting.

She had been through a lot, in her short time in Tal’Dorei. A possibly godly entity shredding her mind. Her soul almost tossed out of her body. A mutated wizard using mirrors to move through dimensions. She almost drowned in the sewers, even. The Cape, on the other hand, never even threatened her, was never openly hostile. They were just a bad vibe. They might even not be anyone important, for what she knows.

Which is the point: she doesn’t know. And that’s why they were the one she saw. Knowledge is all she has, without it, she is nothing.

No matter how bad it is, if she knows, at least she has some control. And she can’t know about others. But if she is the one at risk, she knows about her.

Of course, that’s only one part of the truth.

The weariness is really getting to her, and the nausea doesn’t help. There would be more to that, but it’s getting too difficult to even think.

Tomorrow, perhaps. Well-rested, she will be able to see things more clearly. Or the moment will pass, and she will just ignore it and carry on. That’s what she does.