The streets of the capital buzzed with color and motion.
Cal walked with wide eyes, nearly spinning in place as he took in everything—floating signs lit by glyphlight, street vendors selling charms that pulsed with gentle heat, a boy balancing pebbles in midair just to show off.
"Look at that," he said, pointing to a tower where water flowed up instead of down.
Cloud didn't answer. She followed behind at a casual pace, hands tucked into her cloak. Her hood shaded her eyes. If she was impressed, she didn't show it.
"You've really never been here before?" Cal asked, half turning.
"No," she said.
"Right. And you're just naturally this unimpressed?"
"I'm not here to admire rooftops," she said flatly. "Stay alert."
Cal snorted. "How dangerous can a city be?"
Cal's foot caught on something, and he stumbled forward, nearly crashing into a figure cloaked in shadow.
The person was wrapped in a dark hooded cloak, but a flash of golden hair escaped from beneath the hood — bright enough that Cal couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman.
"Sorry," Cal blurted, stepping back quickly.
The hooded figure didn't say a word. Their sharp eyes scanned the street suddenly, fixing on a pair of approaching city guards with heavy armor and stern expressions.
Without a word, the figure grabbed Cal's arm in a quick, firm tug. "This way," the voice was low but calm, almost urgent.
Cal's heart thudded as they melted into a narrow alley between two buildings, just as the guards swept past the street corner.
"Stay quiet," the figure whispered, eyes still on the street.
When the coast was clear, the figure released Cal's arm, then slipped away before he could say anything else. Only the golden strand of hair caught the light briefly as they vanished.
From a few steps back, Cloud watched the whole exchange, her eyes narrowed beneath her hood. She said nothing.
Cal's breath was still uneven when he turned to catch up with Cloud, but before he could take a step, a shout rang out.
"Hey! You there! Stop!"
Cal froze, eyes darting toward the source—a pair of city guards pushing through the bustling crowd with quick, determined steps. One pointed directly at him.
"Why are you running? Halt!"
Cal's heart jumped. He wasn't running, but the sudden urgency made him flinch. The crowd parted as the guards closed in, grabbing his arm roughly.
"Wait! I'm not—"
"Quiet!" one barked, dragging him toward a nearby guard post.
Cloud's gaze snapped to Cal, her expression unreadable beneath her hood. She didn't move forward; instead, she slipped into the shadows of a nearby doorway, keeping her distance but watching intently.
Cal's protests faded as the guards pushed him through narrow streets, toward the station. His mind raced — why were they so quick to assume he was a threat?
He was shoved roughly into a cramped cell, the iron bars cold against his skin. The smell of damp stone and sweat filled the air. He dropped onto a hard wooden bench, every muscle tense, his mind racing.
"Why am I here? I didn't do anything," he muttered, voice barely louder than a whisper. The muffled sounds of footsteps and guards' chatter echoed through the corridor.
He stood, rubbing his wrists where the guards had grabbed him. How had a simple mistake turned into this?
Time slipped by in slow, uneasy silence. Outside the cell, the steady drip of water from somewhere deep in the stone walls marked the passing hours.
...
The next morning, Cal woke to voices outside the cell.
Heavy footsteps and rough voices came closer.
The door swung open with a creak. A guard stepped in, holding a paper.
"You're free," the guard said gruffly. "Looks like it was a mistake."
Cal blinked, surprised. "Just like that? No questions?"
The guard nodded shortly. "Go. But don't cause trouble."
Cal stepped out into the fresh morning air. The city was coming alive—vendors setting up, people moving about, soft magic glowing here and there.
He walked back toward the small place where they were staying. His boots clicked on the stone streets.
When he opened the door, Cloud was already there. She stood by the window, arms crossed, eyes cold but steady.
"You got out," she said without looking at him.
"Yeah," Cal said, shrugging. "Guess they didn't want to keep me."
Cal leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Did you know they were just gonna let me go? Is that why you didn't bother doing anything?"
Cloud didn't turn around. "Why would I?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. Maybe because we're traveling together?"
She let out a quiet snort. "If you get caught that easily, you deserve to sit in a cell for a night. I'm not here to babysit."
Cal chuckled dryly. "Right. Of course. Silly me for thinking you might be worried."
"I wasn't," she said, cool as ice. "You're not my disciple. Not my responsibility."
He walked in and flopped onto the nearest chair. "Sure, sure. But you watched the whole thing, didn't you?"
She didn't answer for a second. Then, finally, in a tone just a bit too casual: "Maybe. Thought it'd be more fun than helping."
Cal gave her a long look, then shook his head with a half-smile.
Three days passed.
The city's rhythm grew more familiar with each sunrise—street performers staking out corners, merchant chants blending with magical hums, glyphlights flickering on and off like fireflies.
Cal spent most of his time wandering, watching, asking too many questions and getting too few answers. Cloud stayed quiet, always a few paces behind, always watching something else.
That morning, as they sat in a quiet upper room of the inn, Cal chewing on a piece of tough bread, Cloud finally spoke.
"The recruitment for the Magic Academy starts in a month."
Cal blinked mid-bite.
He exhaled and looked out the window at the gleaming spires beyond. "So what do I do until then? Just… hang around the city? Get thrown into another cell for looking suspicious?"
She rolled the map back up slowly. "You train. Or you waste your chance. Up to you."
Cal narrowed his eyes. "You're saying that like you're gonna train me."
"I'm saying nothing," she replied.