Randia was running.
For a man who usually carried himself with the patience of a wandering monk, he was displaying a remarkable lack of composure. The sudden appearance of imperial riders had thrown every plan into disarray, and his mind was now occupied with a singular objective: getting out of Londerstead before someone recognized him.
"Left!"
The sudden voice near his ear nearly made him trip.
"Left, you idiot!"
Randia swerved into a narrow alley.
"Right!"
He obeyed again.
"Straight!"
Only after several frantic turns did he realize he was not navigating the town alone.
Viena had somehow wedged herself inside his cloak like a particularly stubborn parasite. Her arms were threaded through the straps of his backpack, and she was clinging to him with such determination that separating her would probably require tools.
After another turn, she finally ordered him to stop.
The two emerged into a cramped passage squeezed between aging buildings. At the far end stood a shabby shack whose weathered walls leaned slightly to one side, as though years of poverty had finally exhausted their will to remain upright.
Randia lowered his hood and rounded on her.
"Why are you following me?!"
"Because you're running in circles like some headless chicken! But, you are hella' fast though! At least I'll give you that!"
His jaw tightened.
"Do you think this is a game?! Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?!"
Now convinced they had put enough distance between themselves and their pursuers, Viena released her grip and jumped to the ground. She folded her arms and looked up at him with surprising seriousness.
"I don't."
"Then why are you—"
"But I know how to get us out of here."
Before he could argue further, she hurried toward the shack and began gathering her belongings.
Randia immediately recognized the place.
Her home.
Of course she had brought him here.
The realization only strengthened his conviction that she should not be involved.
"There will be no 'us,'" he said. "Only 'me.'"
"Then I won't help you."
The response came without hesitation.
Ordinarily he would have continued arguing, but the distant thunder of hooves was growing louder. Shouts drifted through neighboring streets. Doors were opening. People were being questioned.
The search was spreading.
With few options remaining, Randia crouched until he was level with her.
"Listen, Viena. Listen carefully, you hear me?"
The girl stared back stubbornly.
"Traveling isn't easy. It never has been. Every road looks exciting until you're the one walking it. Then it becomes rain, hunger, sickness, and exhaustion. Sometimes there isn't enough food. Sometimes there isn't enough water. Sometimes you spend weeks without seeing another friendly face."
His expression softened slightly.
"You can still have a future here."
Viena remained silent.
"You think your life can only move forward by leaving this town, but that's not true. People will eventually grow to care less about your eyes than you believe. Less about old rumors. Less about where you came from. There are going to be opportunities waiting for you that have nothing to do with me."
For a moment, Viena glanced around the yard.
At the fence her mother had repaired countless times.
At the doorway she had crossed every day.
At the patch of earth where stubborn weeds always returned.
The place was poor, small, and unremarkable.
Yet it held nearly every memory she possessed.
When she finally looked back, the uncertainty was gone from her eyes.
"I don't want anything else."
Her answer was simple.
"I just want to go with you."
Randia closed his eyes.
Those eyes.
He hated those eyes.
Not because they belonged to Viena, but because they reminded him too much of someone else.
Someone equally stubborn.
Someone equally impossible to stop once their mind was made up.
"...You foolish little girl."
The words escaped as a sigh.
A moment later he picked up her travel bag and slung it over his shoulder beside his own.
"Lead the way."
Viena's face brightened immediately.
Without wasting another second, she hurried behind the shack and pulled aside an old rug. Beneath it lay a rusted iron hatch concealed from casual view. Time had fused parts of the mechanism together, and she struggled to open it until Randia stepped forward and added his strength.
The cover finally gave way with a protesting groan.
A foul odor immediately rose from below.
"Where does this lead?" he asked.
"To the sewage system."
Viena grinned.
"It comes out near the western side of town."
The tunnels beneath Londerstead were every bit as unpleasant as Randia had expected.
The air was damp, the stonework slick with moisture, and the sluggish channels running alongside the walkways carried smells neither of them wished to identify. Viena led the way with a lantern while Randia followed close behind, which unfortunately meant she spent the next half hour enduring a relentless stream of advice.
Watch your footing.
Don't touch the walls.
Slow down.
Pay attention.
Mind the loose stones.
The warnings never stopped.
By the time they had crossed several junctions, Viena was visibly reaching the limits of her patience.
"Can you stop nagging me for one minute?"
"I'm trying to keep you alive."
"I was doing that perfectly fine before I met you."
"That remains open to debate."
The girl groaned loud enough for the echoes to carry through the tunnel.
What neither of them noticed was how natural the exchange had become.
For years, Randia's companions had been roads, rivers, forests, and silence. Yet somewhere during the last few days, the silence had begun to feel less complete than it once did. He still convinced himself that every warning and correction was solely for Viena's benefit, but the truth was simpler.
After so many solitary years, he had grown accustomed to hearing her voice.
"Instead of constantly questioning my unquestionable skills," Viena said, "why don't you tell me why the guards are after you?"
Randia immediately regretted teaching her the word questioning.
"Because I stole something important."
"Hm."
She thought about that for a moment.
"That's strange."
"Why?"
"You don't strike me as someone ballsy enough to do that."
Randia stopped walking.
Slowly, he turned toward her.
"What did you just say?"
A moment later Viena found herself suspended several inches above the ground by the top of her head.
"Aw! Stop! Put me down!"
"Perhaps I should just turn back and return you to the authorities."
"I was joking!"
"An unconvincing defense."
Only after sufficient suffering had been administered did he place her back on the walkway.
"Kuh. Just wait until I'm bigger."
"Move."
The argument continued until they finally reached the western outlet.
Their relief lasted all of three seconds.
Four guards stood watch beyond the drainage exit.
"They're covering the escape routes," Randia murmured.
"Will they leave?" Viena asked.
"That's very unlikely."
So they waited.
Minutes passed until the waiting eventually became impossible.
The voices behind them were drawing nearer with every passing moment, while the guards outside showed no sign of abandoning their post. Faced with a choice between one danger and another, Randia chose the smaller of the two.
"Stay here," he told Viena.
Viena immediately grabbed his sleeve.
"Ran—"
"Stay. Here."
The firmness of his voice left little room for argument.
What followed was brief.
The guards at the exit never expected an attack from the sewer itself, and Randia took full advantage of that mistake. By the time they understood what was happening, half their number was already on the ground and the others were scrambling to respond.
Yet as the struggle unfolded, details Randia had overlooked in his haste became impossible to ignore.
The quality of their equipment was wrong.
Their discipline was wrong.
Even the insignia concealed beneath their cloaks belonged elsewhere.
These were not guards assigned to Londerstead.
They were scouts attached to a company of Mystic Knights dispatched from the larger cities of Aramia.
Randia's stomach sank.
Mystic Knights were not sent to investigate petty disturbances or routine crimes. Their deployment required authority, resources, and purpose. If scouts had already reached Londerstead, then larger efforts is surely to be expected.
Which meant the Emperor's order had traveled much farther than Randia had feared.