? ─── ?? ? ?? ─── ?

  Spring did not arrive all at once. At first, the city remained locked in icy carapaces, as if the earth itself refused to wake. But when the ice finally broke, the last barriers between Violetta and her companions thawed along with it.

  She was no longer viewed as a silent oddity from a distant village or a chance savior. She had become part of the group—not without reservations, but enough that they shared meals, plans, and even dreams with her.

  Tillo no longer hid behind others’ backs; his barriers could now withstand blows that, only a month ago, would have torn him in two. He half-jokingly called her "Master," his voice increasingly tinged with a respect that lived side-by-side with envy.

  Brenn had started wearing his family amulet again. He looked at her as if remembering something long lost. A sister? Or perhaps a shadow of who she might have become had she survived?

  Odd remained himself: stern, reserved, his words rare but heavy with value. His silent presence always meant: I am here. I will kill to protect you if I must.

  And Irellis... Irellis laughed rarely, but her gaze lingered longer now. Sometimes—too long. Sometimes in a way that left Violetta wondering where sisterly care ended and something else began. Or perhaps it was just her own foolish thoughts.

  The only constant was the Sphere. Always there, with its habitual, synthetic "Analyzing."

  No one spoke of the future. No one asked questions they didn't want to hear the answers to. There was coin. There were missions—one after another. Victories. Peace.

  Life had meaning again. They had goals. Rewards. And most importantly—they had faith.

  But faith is a dangerous thing. It has a price. And sometimes, it isn’t the one who receives it who has to pay.

  ? ─── ?? ? ?? ─── ?

  The Guild office was warm, stifling with the scent of parchment, wax, and cheap wine. A log crackled in the hearth, but it lent no comfort. Violetta stood by the desk, facing the administrator—a young woman with a sharp nose, thin lips, and eyes that looked capable of squeezing gold out of a stone. She leaned back in her chair.

  “Well now, my dear,” she said, her voice suited for announcing debts in a city court. “I have unpleasant news.”

  “Something about the assignments?”

  “Something about you, honey.” The woman leaned forward, a silver chain sliding from beneath her collar. Hanging from it was the mark of the Oculus. A thin, almost invisible sigil, yet one familiar to Violetta to the point of nausea. “Your face, your name, a few records regarding your… 'talents.' All of this, you see, has piqued the interest of some very specific people.”

  Violetta remained silent. Her pulse thudded in her ears. The Sphere was silent too. Dangerously, suspiciously silent.

  “But I am a kind woman,” the administrator continued, pulling out a silk pouch and tossing it onto the desk. “There are things I can accidentally forget… or fail to notice.”

  Her eyes gleamed too brightly, her fingers tapped the tattoo nervously, and her voice… it was far too sweet.

  Violetta pulled a pouch of gold from her bag. She set it on the table next to the silk one. The clink of coins was heavy and convincing.

  “This is everything I have.”

  “Generous,” the woman smirked, snatching the gold. “Now run… and run as far as you can.”

  ? ─── ?? ? ?? ─── ?

  The "Three Bones" tavern hummed like a hive. It was warm, noisy, and dangerous. The firewood blazed with a choice pine scent, the wooden beams were draped with trophies, and the air held the permanent tang of alcohol.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Violetta stood at the counter, waiting for an order—hot food and mulled wine for Tillo, who was shivering like a wet chick. She was heading back to the table when she felt it—a shift. The air seemed to compress.

  The door creaked. In walked Susie—the same girl with the fire-red hair who had hunted Violetta across the rooftops, the one she had barely escaped.

  Susie. Black uniform, dark red mantle, the mark of the Oculus upon her chest. Her hair was pulled into a tight knot; her gaze was piercing. She stopped at the threshold, scanning the room with a predator's focus.

  “Oh…” Violetta breathed, diving into the nearest seat.

  A dwarf in a grey cloak stood nearby. He took his shield from the wall and propped it up, perfectly obscuring the line of sight between Vi and Susie.

  Thank you, stranger.

  Susie moved slowly between the tables, examining faces. It felt like someone had poured oil onto a fire. Every glance was a dagger. Every movement, a coiled spring. Someone’s hand moved to an axe hilt. Another stopped drinking. The dwarves saw the Imperial uniform. And they remembered.

  Susie stopped, sighed, cast a disdainful look at the crowd, and walked back out.

  When she left, the chatter didn't return immediately. The tension lingered in the air. The dwarf in the cloak grunted:

  “Next time, she better take off the seal before she walks in. Someone might just 'trip' into her.”

  Violetta scrambled from behind the shield and vanished into the night.

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  The remnants of snow crunched underfoot. Violetta ran with everything she had, never looking back. Blood hammered in her ears; every nerve was pulled taut as a wire. Finally, she reached the shed outside town—long abandoned among the bare trees. Their place. The training base where they went in secret to check weapons, practice magic, and hide from the world.

  Slipping inside, she bolted the door. It was quiet here, only the smell of mold and dust irritating her nose. Sunlight pierced through the gaps in the boards. She sat on a bench and, for the first time in hours, allowed herself to exhale.

  The Sphere finally spoke—dryly, with an unpleasant echo in her ears:

  [FACE IDENTIFIED. THREAT LEVEL: HIGH. PROBABLE NAME/CALLSIGN: SUSIE. DESIGNATION: ELITE IMPERIAL MAGE, OCULUS DIVISION. NOTE: IDENTIFICATION WILL LEAD TO INEVITABLE CONFRONTATION WITH LOCAL AUTHORITIES. PROBABILITY OF SQUAD SURVIVAL IN OPEN CONFRONTATION: NEAR ZERO.]

  “Thanks, Sphere,” Violetta sighed. “Very encouraging.”

  A moment later—a creak. The door. Silence. Then, a familiar voice:

  “Vi?”

  “I’m here.”

  Irellis entered—fast, silent, a dagger held beneath her cloak. Her eyes flashed with tension.

  “They were looking for you. All over the city. And that’s putting it lightly. They’re searching houses. Beating people in the streets. And the administrator… they accused her of treason and hanged her right in the square.”

  Violetta clenched her fists. Not out of pity, but at how fast everything was unraveling.

  “I’ve seen her before, Ir. That girl. She’s an Imperial hunter. She was tracking me at the tavern. I barely got away.”

  Irellis sat on the bench opposite her.

  “This isn't just any order, Violetta. They say she arrived on the authority of the Crown Prince himself. Your name is appearing in Imperial dispatches. Every guard has orders to seize you.”

  Silence hung between them, thick as soot.

  “I’ll get your things,” Irellis said, standing up. “Go to the forest, where we finished our last mission. Wait for us there. Understand?”

  Violetta nodded.

  “Thank you, Ir…”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Go.”

  ? ─── ?? ? ?? ─── ?

  Snow fell slowly, carefully, silvering the branches. The clearing was silent, as if the whole world held its breath. Violetta stood by the same stump where she had once dried a map while Tillo argued fruitlessly with Odd about whether one could kick a dragon in the groin.

  Now, there was only silence and cold.

  Finally, footsteps.

  “You took your time,” she said, not turning around.

  “And you’re impatient,” Brenn’s voice rang out.

  He stepped from behind the trees—face grim but calm, a two-handed battle-axe in his hand, a rucksack on his shoulder.

  “What are you doing here?” Violetta asked, stunned.

  “That city has stuck in my craw long enough. It’s rotten. You breathe and all you taste is the Imperial stench.”

  She wanted to reply, but Irellis appeared next. Calm, composed, as if she were merely out for a stroll.

  “I thought it was time for some fresh air,” she said. “The city’s smog doesn't suit me.”

  Next came Tillo, gripping his staff and huddling into his red scarf.

  “And I thought… why not see a bit of the world? They say trees with glowing fruit grow in the west. I want to see them.”

  And finally—Odd. Silent, quiver on his back. He stood leaning against a tree. Then, through grit teeth, he spoke:

  “Enough with the chatter. If the Inquisition is coming for us, we don’t have time. Let’s move.”

  Violetta looked at them. Her chest tightened—pain and warmth all at once.

  “You… you didn't have to…”

  “We know,” Brenn nodded. “But you’re ours. And that counts for more.”

  Irellis lightly touched her shoulder.

  “We’re together, remember? How could we leave you in trouble?”

  “What would we do without our ‘Master’ anyway?” Tillo smirked.

  Odd had already started moving forward.

  They took their gear and stepped into the cold, unthawed forest snow—but with the warmth of spring in their souls. They walked together into the unknown. Not as a shadow team. But as friends who had almost become a family.

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