City of Secrets

Time passed, marked by Kurt's steady growth. He was no longer a toddler, but a young child, his small frame growing stronger, his mind sharper. The burning desire to learn Astra Knowledge, ignited by the noble hunter in the woods, never faded. It consumed him, driving him to seek answers beyond the confines of Thomas and Martha's quiet life.

He knew that the forest held no answers. The knowledge he sought was held by the nobles, the elite, and they resided primarily in the cities. So, with a carefully crafted plan and a heavy heart, Kurt decided to venture out on his own. He left a note for Thomas and Martha, explaining his desperate need to understand the power he had witnessed, promising to return.

The journey to the nearest city, Oakhaven, was long and arduous for a child his age. He traveled by foot, relying on his wits and the kindness of strangers, his small stature and innocent appearance often eliciting sympathy and aid. He finally arrived at the city gates, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and trepidation. Oakhaven was a sprawling metropolis of stone and timber, a stark contrast to the quiet simplicity of the forest.

Kurt quickly realized that his quest would be far more challenging than he had imagined. The nobles moved within their own circles, their lives separated from the commoners by a vast social chasm. He was just a small, insignificant child in a city teeming with people, most of whom would pay him no attention.

He began to follow them, discreetly, his small size and unassuming appearance allowing him to blend into the bustling crowds. He spent days trailing groups of nobles, hoping to catch a glimpse of them using their divine weapons, desperate for any clue, any hint of how they worked. He learned their routines, their habits, their favorite gathering places.

His patience was finally rewarded one evening. Kurt followed a group of young nobles as they left a lavish banquet, their laughter echoing through the narrow, cobbled streets. They were clearly intoxicated, their movements unsteady, their voices loud and careless.

As they walked, they boasted about their skills, their voices filled with arrogance.

"Did you see how easily I felled that boar?" one of them bragged, his words slurred. "A simple Ignis Bolt, and it was done."

"Your aim was sloppy," another retorted. "I could have done it with a single Tempestas Lance. A true display of precision."

They continued in this vein, casually discussing their abilities, their spells, their Astra. Kurt, hidden in the shadows, listened intently, his heart pounding in his chest. He strained his ears, trying to memorize every word, every phrase, every enchantment.

"Ignis Bolt... Tempestas Lance..." The words echoed in his mind, resonating with a strange familiarity. He felt a flicker of recognition, a faint echo of something he couldn't quite grasp.

Suddenly, their drunken revelry was interrupted. A group of shadowy figures emerged from a nearby alleyway, their faces hidden beneath dark cloaks. They moved with a speed and purpose that belied their concealed forms.

"The Blackcloaks," one of the nobles gasped, his bravado instantly replaced by fear. "What do they want?"

The Blackcloaks were a notorious group, whispered about in hushed tones throughout the city. They were said to be ruthless and dangerous, their motives shrouded in mystery.

The lead Blackcloak stepped forward, his voice a low, menacing growl. "You have something we want," he said, his hand reaching inside his cloak.

The nobles, their drunken courage vanished, drew their own weapons – not the shimmering divine weapons Kurt had seen before, but more conventional swords and daggers, though still clearly of high quality.

"Stay back!" one of them shouted, his voice trembling. "We are nobles of Oakhaven! You will pay for this!"

But the Blackcloaks did not heed the warning. They attacked with surprising speed and ferocity. The nobles, despite their training, were clearly outmatched. The Blackcloaks fought with a brutal efficiency, their movements precise and deadly.

As the fight raged, the nobles, desperate to defend themselves, began to use their Astra.

" Ignis Bolt! " one of them cried, summoning a small sphere of fire and hurling it at an attacker.

" Tempestas Lance! " another shouted, conjuring a swirling vortex of wind that knocked back several Blackcloaks.

Kurt watched, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination. The spells, the gestures, the very essence of Astra Knowledge were being displayed before him, not in a controlled hunting scenario, but in a desperate fight for survival.

He clung to the shadows, his mind racing, trying to memorize every detail. The words, the movements, the flow of energy. He was witnessing something forbidden, something sacred, and he knew that this knowledge, gleaned from this chaotic encounter, was invaluable.

The fight ended quickly. The Blackcloaks, though outnumbered, were far more skilled and ruthless. They subdued the nobles, taking something from them – a small, ornate box – before disappearing back into the darkness as quickly as they had come.

The nobles, battered and humiliated, were left lying in the street, their arrogance replaced by a stunned silence. They eventually staggered to their feet and left the scene.

Kurt remained hidden, his mind reeling from what he had seen. He had witnessed Astra Knowledge in action, raw and untamed. He had heard the enchantments, seen the gestures, felt the power. And he knew, with a certainty that settled deep within his bones, that he was one step closer to unlocking the secrets he sought.