The little boy with tousled brown hair was already clutching his ears with both hands, as if this was nothing new.
Azriel frowned.
Without knocking, he stepped forward and instantly pushed the door open.
The room was surprisingly clean. Nice, actually.
A simple office. Behind the desk sat two people.
Old people.
A woman with freckles.
A man with freckles.
Seriously.
What was it with this village and their obsession with producing freckled old folks? Was there a guild? A secret society?
On the other side, in front of Azriel, Instructor Ranni sat stiffly on a chair. Beside her, a frightened little girl named Lia clutched Ranni's robe so tightly it looked like she might tear it.
'Wait a minute…'
Azriel's gaze locked onto the freckled old man.
The man's eyes widened the moment he recognized Azriel. He shot up from his chair and pointed a trembling finger.
"You! You're that brat from earlier!"
Azriel's eyes narrowed, cold as steel.
