Chapter 130

We reached Highcoin just after sunset, the sky still burning in streaks of pink and blue. I thanked our guides, then led Naevira toward the nearest inn.

Highcoin sprawled across a wide river, its buildings spilling down both banks and stitched together by broad, arched bridges. Ships crowded the docks on either side, unloading cargo in a steady rhythm - crates, barrels, and bundles moving like a tide that never quite receded.

The architecture was brick gothic - familiar in a distant, secondhand way, like something I’d seen in old pictures of Europe. Everything had texture. Windows sat deep in their frames, shadows pooling in the recesses. Blind tracery etched delicate patterns into the facades. Bricks of black, yellow, and red formed intricate designs across the walls, and guild symbols were set above doorways in polished stone. Towers rose at uneven intervals - some squat and round, others tall and square - while long buildings stretched between them, capped with crow-stepped gables that broke the skyline into jagged tiers.

It was bigger than Northgate. Forty thousand, maybe more. Not as large as Arvellia’s capital, Crownreach, but not that far off either.

The inn we chose was called the Tipsy Lady. The sign showed a woman in a flowing skirt, mid-spin, her mug tipping dangerously as ale sloshed over the rim. The place looked… acceptable. Clean enough that I wasn’t worried about fleas, which was about as high a bar as I needed.

I ordered two ales and was careful to avoid the beer. I still hadn’t recovered from the last time I tried it. In Arvellia, beer was watered down, flat, steeped with herbs like sage or rosemary, and - worse - full of soft, floating chunks. Something between soggy bread and boba. I’d never managed to stomach it.

Along with the drinks, I ordered shepherd’s pie and a room for the two of us.

I finished my meal quickly. Naevira picked at hers, eating slowly, more out of curiosity than hunger. She took a tentative sip of the ale, then didn’t touch it again. I finished hers, rather than let it go to waste.

The tavern buzzed around us - voices layered over one another, laughter, the scrape of chairs, the clink of mugs. I let my attention drift, picking out conversations, following two or three at a time without much effort. Most of it was business - Dock schedules, guild taxes, the price of wheat coming out of Esmori.

But here and there, something more personal slipped through. A cheating husband. An investor skimming coin.

And there it was-

“…he hasn’t been the same since she left,” one man muttered, leaning close to his companion. “I’m telling you, they’re going to take advantage of him. Who just… takes your pain away like that? I don’t trust it.”

“Yeah, but what are you going to do about it, mate?” the other replied. “He’s his own man.”

“He’s my brother. I’m not letting some conman scramble his brain with magic. Hell, that might be worse than empty promises.”

“I get it. But what if he doesn’t listen?”

“Maybe I go down there. Make it clear it’s not worth it to con my brother. I’ve got a friend in the guard-”

“The guard?” The second man snorted. “They don’t give a cow turd about the Covenant. If they did, they’d have shut them down already.”

“Well what do you suggest, mister copper brains?”

“If it were me?” A shrug. “Sign him onto a merchant marine contract. Two years at sea. Forge the name if you have to, then point them his way when he misses muster.”

“That’s… not a bad idea.”

I pushed back from the table. “Excuse me,” I murmured to Naevira, then made my way over.

“Sorry to interrupt,” I said, offering a polite smile. “I couldn’t help overhearing. You mentioned the Covenant of Mercy.”

Both men looked up, wary.

“I’m trying to find my son,” I continued. “He said he was going to them. Do you know where I can find them?”

They exchanged a glance. “Your son?” the first man asked. “How old is he?”

“Twelve,” I said without hesitation. “His mother ed a while back and now he’s gone looking for her. I just want my boy back.” I let the words sit, kept my expression earnest.

It worked. “I heard they’re out near Ledgerton,” the second man said. “Couple days south. Some kind of fort.” He shook his head. “Hope you find him before they do. Heard once you’re in, you don’t leave.” He sighed and shook his head. “Sorry to hear about your kid, mate.”

“Thank you,” I said, with more warmth than the lie deserved.

I returned to the table, making a show of speaking animatedly as I sat. “We have a lead,” I told Naevira. “South of here. We leave tomorrow afternoon.”

She nodded.

“In the morning, I need to meet Elise,” I added. “I promised I’d take her to a bookstore while we’re here.”

Another nod.

I glanced around the tavern one last time - the noise, the light, the constant hum of deals and quiet betrayals. “I think we’ve learned what we can tonight,” I said. “Ready to turn in?”

She nodded again.

* * *

I closed the door behind us as we stepped into the room.

It wasn’t much - two narrow beds, a single chair, a small desk tucked beneath a window that looked out over the city - but it was enough. For now, it was all we needed.

Naevira drifted through the space with quiet curiosity. She opened the desk drawers one by one, peered beneath the beds, then leaned out the window to watch the street below. When it was just the two of us, she explored everything. She’d already picked through my pack earlier, turning over each item, asking what it was, what it did. Her questions came easily then - about the world, about me, about elves most of all.

But around others, she folded inward. Quiet. Careful. Watching more than speaking.

“Can we talk?” I asked.

She slid out from beneath the bed and rose smoothly to her feet.

“Certainly,” she said.

Then she stilled. Completely.

Her attention locked onto me with an intensity that bordered on unsettling - no fidgeting, no wandering glance. Just focus, sharp and absolute, like every word I said mattered.

“We’re going shopping with Elise tomorrow,” I said.

She nodded.

“Elise is a void-mage. Do you know what that is?”

She shook her head.

“It means she has a… very powerful kind of magic. But that magic tends to make people… very uncomfortable. At least at first.” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “Most people feel afraid. Like something is wrong. The feeling fades with time, but the first exposure can be rough.”

I watched her for a moment.

“So I thought we could meet her tonight. Somewhere safe. Just the three of us. See how you react, and figure out how to handle it before tomorrow.”

I held her gaze, making sure she understood.

“Elise is a good person. Brilliant. Kind.” My voice softened. “I love her. She would never hurt you.”

I let that settle before continuing.

“But if you do feel afraid… I’ll be right there. I won’t leave you. I’ll protect you, no matter what. Understand?”

She nodded, slower this time. A little uncertain, but steady.

“Alright,” I said. “I’m going to take you somewhere safe. You can look around while I go get her.”

I slipped my cloak off and set it on the bed, then reached out my hand. Naevira placed hers in mine. I stepped—and the world gave way to my demesne.

* * *

The demesne was in rare form tonight.

Bioluminescent moths settled over the long grasses in slow, rolling waves of color, like living paint spilled across the ground. Bats wheeled through the air above them, darting and diving to snatch the occasional stray, their silhouettes cutting through ribbons that drifted through the airm reflecting the light below. High overhead, an aurora unfurled across the sky - broad bands of shifting color that moved like lazy, breathing rainbows.

Naevira let out a quiet breath, awe softening her voice. Even I paused. It wasn’t often the demesne aligned like this - so many small wonders folding together into something so… stunning.

“It’s amazing,” she said.

“It’s not usually this beautiful,” I itted. “But I’m glad you get to see it like this.”

Ahead, the castle rose at the heart of it all - not a fortress, but a statement. Silver-capped towers curved and leaned with impossible elegance, sweeping bridges arcing between them. Stained glass and gilded gates caught the shifting light and fractured it into colors that shouldn’t have existed, scattering them across stone and sky alike.

“This place is safe,” I told her gently. “Nothing here will hurt you. Elise is probably in the castle. I’ll go get her and come back - feel free to explore.”

She met my eyes and nodded.

I turned and walked. The space bent to my will - each step carrying me farther than it should, the distance folding away beneath my feet. The gates opened as I approached, then the doors beyond, each one yielding without hesitation until I reached the library.

“Elise?”

I found her shelving books.

The library stretched upward in vast, quiet tiers - three stories of shelves packed tight with more volumes than most cities would ever see. A wide spiral staircase wound through the center, balconies and alcoves branching off into smaller spaces meant for reading, for thinking, for losing yourself in words. Ladders lined the shelves, though they were rarely needed. The demesne answered intent. If you wanted a book badly enough, it would come to you.

Elise still preferred to shelve by hand. She said the motions calmed and grounded her - that after so many years, it felt wrong to let the library care for itself.

“Hello, my love,” I said.

She turned, smiled, and set her books aside before slipping into my arms. I kissed her, slow and familiar, and when we parted I rested my forehead against hers for a moment.

“Is it time to go shopping?” she asked, pale eyes bright with anticipation. “I thought it might be too late.”

“It is,” I said with a soft laugh. “We’ll go in the morning.” I kissed her again. “How’s Morien?”

“Asleep,” she said. “She asked about you. Repeatedly. She misses her father.” A soft pause. “I do as well.”

I kissed her again. I couldn’t help it. “I miss you both, too.”

I took her hands in mine. “I’m here for two reasons,” I said. “First - tomorrow, we’re going to the Gilded Ledger.”

That earned a brighter smile.

“Second…” I hesitated just long enough to make it matter. “I met someone. A new friend. She’ll be coming with us.”

Elise’s expression shifted - subtle, but immediate. “Is that wise?” she asked quietly. “You know I am… unsettling.”

“Hey.” I cupped her cheek. “You’re incredible. Brilliant. Powerful. Beautiful.”

She glanced down. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” I said gently. “That’s why I brought her here first. She’s outside. I wanted you to meet somewhere safe - see how she reacts.”

“Does she have experience with void-mages?” There was a flicker of hope in her voice.

“No.”

The hope faded.

“But she’s different,” I added. “She was… born from a Weeping Gallows.”

Elise froze. “What?” The word came sharp, disbelieving. “That is not possible.”

“I think Elarion and I saw it happen. Or something close to it. There were others like her. They were violent, Naevira wasn’t.”

“You named her?”

“No,” I replied. “She already had a name.”

Elise frowned, trying to fit the pieces together. “If she was newly born… how could she already have one?”

“I don’t know,” I itted. “I’m still figuring it out. She’s… a plant, I guess. Something like that. Animals react differently to your aura.”

Elise nodded slowly.

“My hope is she might too.”

“I have never met such a being,” Elise said, thoughtful now.

“Will you come meet her?” I asked. “She’s nice. You’ll like her.”

Elise drew in a breath, then straightened - resolve settling over her features. “Yes,” she said. “Let us meet your new friend.”

I smiled. “I love you. You’re the best.”

A faint blush touched her pale cheeks.

“Oh - two more things,” I added. “She mostly speaks Elithae. Only a little Trade-tongue. And… she looks like an elf.”

Elise blinked. “She looks like an elf?”

“Yeah,” I said. “She can shift from a vine and bramble body into an elven woman. It’s… complicated.”