"You two took long enough."
Mara was counting coins behind the counter. Her sleeves were rolled to her elbows, fingers stained faint green from trimming stems.
"Crack was deeper than it looked," Alain answered.
"It always is," Mara murmured. Then, with a glance toward the door,
"Go home. I'll close up for the night."
Lia hesitated. "But the orders—"
"Can wait," the florist replied, softer now. "Rain's easing, but people ain't buying flowers tonight. Not when the streets are so busy."
"Busy how?" Alain asked, brushing dust from his trousers.
Mara tilted her chin toward a new poster on the nearby lamp post.
"New district plans. The Authority's sending crews from Garam to "redevelop" this quarter. Means most of Dolos, and likely a bit of Ede's gonna get torn apart before week's end."
Her tone wasn't bitter, but tired, like she'd already seen the same thing happen too many times.
Lia frowned. "But this area's fine. Why rebuild it?"
"Because someone decided it isn't." Mara waved a hand. "Go on, both of you. You look like drowned rats."
Alain managed a faint smile. "Will do, ma'am."
"Good, try not to attract any attention on your way home. You've got a knack of doing that."
"Can't promise that," he said under his breath.
They left through the back door. The drizzle had faded to mist; the lilies' scent thinned. Ether lamps blinked on one by one as the city exhaled.
The air smelled faintly of smoke from the metallic tang that came when new conduits were being welded. The streets ahead glowed pale gold, their reflections trembling in shallow puddles.
Lia walked beside him in silence for a while, arms folded against the chill.
"They're redeveloping again," she murmured.
"Yeah, distracts us from them actually spending the budget somewhere meaningful." Alain shrugged.
"Still," Lia said softly, "I like it here. Even if it's falling apart."
He smiled faintly. "You would."
They turned the corner toward the tram road.
The Hearth, their run-down orphanage that was scavenged and repurposed from an abandoned emergency shelter, waited ahead.
As they walked, Lia suddenly stopped and looked around at her surroundings.
Her voice was barely above the rain. "Do you think… they'll tear down the Hearth too?"
Alain looked at the smoke curling from their roof in the distance, the one place that still glowed faintly orange against the cold.
"No," he said quietly.
The Rune beneath his skin pulsed once, faint and warm. Like it disagreed.
"But even if they do, I'll do everything I can to defend it."
The rain kept falling, soft as breath. For a while, neither of them spoke. The sound of their steps splashing against puddles made up most of their way back.
Then, voices rose behind the drizzle, breaking their calm.
Lia turned. "Do you hear that?"
Alain lifted his head. Beyond the next block, the rhythm of the night was breaking. A small crowd had gathered.
"What's going on?" Lia murmured.
No one answered her. People were staring at a red-stamped notice plastered to the wall, its ink bleeding in the rain.
NOTICE OF RECLAMATION
By decree of the Imperial Authority, all structures within District Ede-7 and Dolos-2 will be cleared for redevelopment.
Someone had crossed out the seal in black paint and written beneath it.
"We built this city. You just profited from it."
Lia's hands tightened on her sleeves. "That's our block…"
Before Alain could speak, glass shattered ahead of them, a bottle bursting against a nearby tram pole. Oil flared all over the ground before being immediately smothered by the pouring rain.
"Back," he said quietly, pulling her into the shadow of a nearby alley.
Workers in gray coats were trying to disperse the crowd. One shouted something drowned by the rain; another raised a conduit torch, its flame cutting through the fog. The people shouted back, raw noise, anger without shape.
Shouting came like a chain reaction, with one noise came another, and then another until it became a flame no one could douse.
Someone threw a makeshift bottle. This time, it caught on the nearby oil leakage from nearby pipes. The explosion was small but bright, a bloom of orange swallowed by steam.
Lia flinched. "Alain—"
"I know."
Alain leaned forward, peering past a corner.
Public Security had formed a line where the construction machinery was positioned. He recognized their insignia; it was practically embedded in his memory—run if seen.
But behind them, half-shadowed in the mist, stood strangers.
They didn't bark orders. They didn't move. Their white coats shimmered faintly beneath the rain, trimmed with gold.
Alain narrowed his eyes. The white-coated figures weren't soldiers. Their posture was too relaxed, their hands gloved but unarmed. They didn't even look at the protestors.
"Who are they?" Lia whispered.
"Don't know," Alain murmured. "But we should get out of here regardless, Hearth's around the corner—"
A crash tore through the noise, interrupting him. The street erupted in shouts. An officer, dazed as he slammed into a nearby wall.
Across the street, Julie, the orphanage caretaker, stood frozen, her hand outstretched, smoke rising from her palm. The faint outline of a rune still glimmered from her hand. She drew them back up, covering her frightened expression.
"Lia—"
"I see her."
The Hearth kids huddled behind her, crying. The guard groaned, armor scorched black where heat had struck.
Blue sigils bloomed across the ground: ᛒ — Berkanan (Bind)
The air thickened with ether as nearby debris coalesced, tightening around the caretaker's body, holding her in place. She struggled as the sharp rocks dug into her skin.
"Unauthorized caster sighted!" someone shouted.
Lia's voice caught. "Alain, don't—"
He was already gone.
He vaulted from behind the wagon, boots splashing through puddles, steam rising with each step. His left mark, the Rune of Fire, Kenaz, fully ignited.
Heat swelled around him, shallow at first, then sharper, pulsing with his breath. Using what Henrick had taught him as self-defense, he drew the sigil.
ᚱ— Raido (Push)
A wave of fire surged forward, flame given mass as it collided with the nearest officer, sending him to the ground.
Another one emerged, sending shards of rock towards Alain.
Lia broke from cover beside him, her right hand sweeping through the mist.
ᛉ— Algiz (Guard)
A translucent wall rippled into being, woven from condensed rain. The incoming stone shards shattered harmlessly against it, fragments hissing as they slid down its curved surface.
"Thanks! Can you get her loose?" Alain yelled.
Lia nodded, hand already moving to draw her next sigil.
ᛏ — Tiwaz (Cut)
A thin crescent of pressured water sliced through the restraint. The stone cracked apart, smoke curling where it met heat.
"Go, get her outta here!" Alain shouted.
The guards advanced, shields locked tightly, approaching slowly, like the inevitable.
Lia hesitated, wide-eyed. "They'll catch us!"
"Not if they can't see, I'll distract them. On my signal."
Alain slammed his palm to the ground. ᚱ— Raido (Push)
Lia caught on; her right hand glowed as she concentrated the vapors into fog. A thick mist rolled across the street, swallowing light, noise, everything.
Shouts broke out behind them. The guards were disoriented, stumbling through the haze.
"Go!" Alain's voice cut through the fog.
"What about you!" Lia yelled.
"I'll be fine, go!"
She knew it was a lie, but had no choice.
Lia grabbed Julie's arm, pulling her through the mist. Explosions went off in the distance, accompanied by loud grunts and orders. They ran until the corner of the block. Lia had ushered the kids towards a nearby shelter. But then the sound came.
ᛒ — Berkanan (Bind)
Lia turned. Two tramposts away, Alain's figure flickered in the fog as he fell to his knees. The nearby debris had completely pinned him down.
The scene was chaotic, visibility was low, but through it all, Lia saw one thing. He had mouthed,
"Keep going."
Her chest tightened; her pulse thundered in her ears. She wouldn't.
Lia turned, "Stay safe, Julie. Take care of the kids."
The caretaker looked mortified, but had resolved herself.
"I'll see you two again, right?" she said, pulling Lia into a hug.
"You know you can't get rid of us that easily, right?" Lia snickered.
She took one step back, then another, until the mist thinned and the guards' silhouettes took shape.
Alain stared wide-eyed at the shadow coming, "Lia, don't…" his voice was barely a breath.
He tried to conjure another spell, but his ether had run dry.
She was already kneeling beside him, hands raised. The cuffs clicked shut, humming faintly.
"Why'd you come back?" he asked, rain dripping from his ashen hair.
"Because you'd have stayed."