Chapter Thirteen

The night air was cool as Solene and Kain walked back to his small home in the Commons. The day's training had left her sore, her muscles aching in places she hadn't even realized could hurt. But despite the exhaustion, she felt different, stronger, more aware of her body and its potential.

Inside the small shack, the dim light of a lantern flickered as Kain set down the simple meal he had prepared. Bread, dried meat, and a small bowl of stew. It wasn't much, but to Solene, it felt like a feast.

She ate quickly, the hunger from the day's exertion making her barely take a breath between bites. Kain smirked.

"You eat like you've been starving your whole life."

Solene swallowed and shot him a tired glare. "Maybe I have."

Kain leaned back against the rickety chair, watching her. "You did well today. Better than I expected."

She scoffed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I barely kept up with you."

"For someone who's never held a staff before? You did more than keep up."

She fell silent, poking at the last bit of stew with her spoon. Then, after a pause, she asked, "What if… I can't awaken my powers again?"

Kain exhaled, stretching his arms behind his head. "Power like yours doesn't just disappear. You saw what you did back there, those weren't tricks, Solene. That was something real."

She frowned. "But it felt like… like I wasn't in control. Like it wasn't even me."

Kain studied her for a moment. "That's because you don't understand it yet."

She looked up. "Then how do I?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You have to find the source. Power doesn't just appear, it comes from somewhere. Maybe it's your emotions, maybe it's something deeper. But until you understand where it comes from, you won't control it."

Solene sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I don't even know where to start."

Kain chuckled. "You start by training. By pushing yourself. It's like learning a new weapon. You don't just pick it up and expect to master it in a day."

She slumped back against her chair, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on her. "I just don't want to lose control again."

Kain's expression softened. "Then we'll make sure you don't."

Solene glanced at him, searching his face for any sign of deception. But there was none.

For now, she would trust him.

For now, she had no other choice.

 Kain leaned back in his chair, watching the dim lantern light flicker across the wooden walls. His expression darkened, as if he were weighing something in his mind.

"There might be someone who can help us," he said finally.

Solene, who had been absentmindedly tracing patterns on the table with her fingers, looked up. "Who?"

Kain exhaled slowly. "A sorcerer. I knew him back when I was still a warrior in the High Rings."

She frowned. "A sorcerer?"

He nodded. "Not just any sorcerer. He was one of the best, powerful, brilliant… until he wasn't."

Solene leaned forward. "What happened to him?"

Kain's jaw tightened. "He fled. Ran from the High Rings, from the Elders, from the King himself. He discovered something, something that scared him enough to abandon everything. I never found out what it was."

She narrowed her eyes. "And you think he can help us?"

"If there's anyone who understands power, it's him," Kain said. "But… he's not the same man he used to be. When I saw him last, he was, " He hesitated. "He wasn't sane anymore."

A cold chill ran down Solene's spine. "Where is he?"

Kain's fingers drummed against the table. "He lives on the outskirts of the Merchant Quarters. Barely anyone goes near him now. People say he's lost his mind, always muttering to himself about things no one understands."

Solene swallowed. "But you think he still has answers?"

Kain gave a small, humorless chuckle. "Oh, I have no doubt he knows things. The question is whether he's still sane enough to tell us."

Solene sat in silence for a moment, letting the weight of his words settle.

If this sorcerer truly had knowledge that could help her understand what she was, then she had to find him. Even if it meant walking into the unknown again.

She met Kain's gaze. "Then we have to find him."

Kain studied her, then nodded. "At first light, we leave."

.

.

The night was thick with the scent of burning wood and the filth of the Commons. Dain Ravorel moved through the darkness like a restless beast, his patience long worn thin. He had been searching for hours, yet there was no sign of the girl. The exhaustion clawed at him, but frustration burned hotter. He would not return empty-handed.

His boots crunched against the dirt as he stopped in front of a poorly built shop, its wood barely holding together. Outside, a small group of men sat around a wild fire, their faces twisted with drink and laughter.

Dain leaned against the shadowed side of the building, listening.

".....That bastard Kain," one of them slurred. "Took in some girl a few days ago."

Another scoffed. "Bet she's just a wench to keep his bed warm." The others chuckled.

Dain stepped forward. "The girl, who is she?"

The laughter died down as the men turned to look at him. One of them sneered. "Who's asking?"

Dain's jaw tightened. He took another step. "Tell me about the girl."

The first man, a burly one with rotting teeth, chuckled. "And if we don't?"

Another one leaned forward, eyes glinting with amusement. "You planning to take her from him? You look like you haven't touched a woman in years." The others howled with laughter.

Dain exhaled slowly. Then, without warning, he struck.

His fist connected with the burly man's jaw, the sickening crack of bone breaking through the air. The man dropped instantly, his body limp. Before the others could react, Dain grabbed another by the throat and slammed him into the side of the shop, the wooden planks rattling from the force.

The remaining men scrambled, but Dain was faster. He drove his knee into one's gut before shoving him into the fire, his screams tearing through the night as flames caught his clothes.

Another lunged at him, a rusted dagger in hand. Dain twisted his arm, snapping it backward with brutal precision. The man's howl was cut short as Dain drove his elbow into his skull.

The last one, barely breathing, lay on the ground, blood pooling beneath him. Dain crouched beside him, gripping his hair and yanking his head up.

"The girl," he growled. "Where is she?"

The man coughed, blood spilling from his lips. His body trembled. "K-Kain… lives… near the old tanner's yard… down by the east side…"

Dain released him, letting his head drop onto the dirt. The man gave one final shudder before going still.

Straightening, Dain wiped the blood from his knuckles, his lips curling into a smirk.

At last, he had a lead.

Kain lay on the hard ground, his hands behind his head, staring up at the wooden ceiling of his small home. The flickering candlelight cast shadows that danced against the walls, but his mind was far from the dim room.

His thoughts swirled, tangled with questions about Solene and the sigil on her back. He was going to find a solution.

He let out a slow breath, shifting to his side. Solene was fast asleep on the bed, her breathing steady, her face peaceful despite the storm she carried inside her.

Kain closed his eyes, but sleep never came. His instincts had been sharpened from years of surviving, and something in his gut felt off.

Then he heard it.

Footsteps.

Soft at first, almost drowned out by the night wind, but unmistakably approaching his house.

Kain's body tensed. He slowly pushed himself up, moving as silently as possible. Whoever it was, they weren't trying to be discreet. The steps were firm, purposeful.

He reached for the small dagger he always kept nearby and crept to the window. Peering through the crack in the wooden shutters, his breath stilled.

A figure was approaching.

The dim moonlight revealed a tall, rough-looking man with broad shoulders, his clothes tattered and covered in dirt. There was something about him, something dangerous.

Kain's grip tightened on his dagger.

Someone had come for Solene.