The freedom of Zahar began to feel remarkably like a prison, just with better food and more interesting smells. Their two cramped rooms at The Groggy Skull, which had at first seemed like a welcome refuge, were now a claustrophobic cage. The thin walls did little to muffle the sounds of the city's endless hustle, a constant reminder of a world they could see but not truly join.
Their first and only group excursion into the city had been a disaster. Lyra, even cloaked, moved with the rigid purpose of a soldier, her eyes constantly scanning for threats in a way that made street vendors nervous. Elara's otherworldly beauty drew looks of awe and suspicion in equal measure, while Borin's stout dwarven form and Anya's bookish anxiety made them stick out like sore thumbs. They were a collection of rarities, a walking spectacle. Blending in was not an option.
After that, they developed a system. Silas, the only one who could truly disappear into the city's shadows, became their lifeline. He would slip out before dawn and return after dusk, his pouches filled with bread, salted fish, and, most importantly, information. The rest of them were confined, waiting.
The waiting was different from the siege. It was a restless, frustrating idleness. Lyra could no longer vent her energy on the training dummy. She took to pacing the length of their small room, her movements so precise and contained they seemed to vibrate with restrained power. Borin would sit by the grimy window, sharpening a knife with a whetstone, his expression a permanent scowl of disapproval at the shoddy architecture outside.
Leo felt a gnawing sense of impotence. Back at the Inn, he was the Master. He was in control. Here, he was just a man with rapidly dwindling funds, responsible for a dragon lord, a master thief, a holy knight, a dwarf blacksmith, and an alchemist. His [Renovations] menu was a distant memory, his [Absolute Domain] useless. He was a king without his kingdom, and the feeling was deeply unsettling.
One afternoon, desperate for fresh air and a change of scenery, he decided on a calculated risk. "Elara," he said, approaching the Dragon Lord, who was sitting by the window, staring out at the sliver of sky with a profound stillness. "I'm going to the market for fresh supplies. I could use an extra pair of hands."
It was a flimsy excuse. He chose her because she was the quietest, the least likely to draw attention through action. Silas was too slippery, Lyra too intense, and Borin and Anya too conspicuous as a pair.
She looked at him, her golden eyes holding a flicker of surprise, then gratitude. She gave a simple nod. Draped in simple, hooded grey cloaks that Silas had procured for them, they slipped out of the inn and into the chaotic embrace of the Zahar marketplace.
For Leo, it was just a crowded street. For Elara, it was another world.
Her senses, ancient and powerful, were overwhelmed. The riot of color from dyed silks and exotic fruits, the cacophony of a hundred merchants hawking their wares, the scent of sizzling meat and foreign perfumes—it was a dizzying, intoxicating assault. She walked close to Leo, a silent, graceful shadow, her eyes wide with a childlike wonder that was profoundly at odds with the ancient power she held.
She paused at a stall where a street musician was playing a haunting melody on a stringed instrument Leo didn't recognize. The tune was simple, melancholic, yet beautiful. Elara stood utterly transfixed, listening with an intensity that made the musician uncomfortable. She was hearing not just the notes, but the simple, mortal emotion woven into them—a feeling of love and loss that was so fleeting and yet so precious. It was a beauty she had observed from afar for centuries but had never been a part of.
As they moved on, Leo bought a few fresh apples from a vendor. He handed one to Elara. She took it, looking at the simple red fruit as if it were a rare jewel.
"It has been so long," she murmured, her voice almost too quiet to hear over the crowd, "since I have simply… walked. Without being hunted. Without being worshipped."
Before Leo could reply, he caught a snippet of conversation from two burly sailors haggling over a fishing net nearby.
"—heard the bounty is up to fifty thousand gold crowns now," one said. "Just for information on that trickster landlord and his disappearing fortress."
"Fifty thousand?" the other scoffed. "You'd have better luck catching the moon in that net. The place vanished. Gone. Lord Volkov is furious, they say. Tearing the continent apart looking for them."
Leo's blood went cold. He subtly guided Elara away, his hand gently on her elbow. Her moment of peace was shattered. The reminder was stark: they were not tourists. They were prey. And the price on their heads was rising.
They returned to The Groggy Skull in silence, the weight of their reality having crashed back down upon them. That evening, as the group shared their simple meal, the mood was somber. The brief illusion of freedom had been exposed for what it was: a temporary reprieve.
Leo looked at the faces around him. He saw the frustration in Lyra's eyes, the restlessness in Silas's, the fear in Anya's and Borin's, and the deep, weary sadness in Elara's. He had gotten them out of the cage, but he had led them into a desert. Hiding was not a strategy; it was a slow death.
He stood up, pushing his chair back. His decision was made.
"This isn't working," he said, his voice cutting through the quiet gloom. Everyone looked at him. "We can't stay here. Hiding in this city, waiting for our money to run out or for a bounty hunter to get lucky, is not a plan. It's an abdication."
He looked around at his strange, powerful, and utterly vulnerable family. "We have an asset that no one else in this world possesses. A fortress that cannot be breached. We abandoned it to escape a siege, but in doing so, we've given up our single greatest advantage."
He leaned on the table, his eyes filled with a new, hard-edged determination.
"The question is no longer if we go back to the Threshold Inn," he declared. "The question is how we prepare for what comes next when we do."