The sun began to bleed over the horizon, casting long, mocking shadows across the cobblestones as the trio finished locking down the bakery. They moved quickly, blending into the early morning crowds to avoid being followed.
"Who exactly is this 'Sid' person to you two?" Alger asked, his voice low as he struggled to keep pace.
Light let out a sharp, frustrated hiss. "That bastard is—"
"A friend," Lunara interrupted, her voice firm as she cut her brother off. "He's someone from our past, Alger. Yours, too. I'll explain the rest once we're behind closed doors. For now, keep your head down."
They left the city limits, trekking toward a jagged hillside where the mouth of an abandoned mana-mine lay hidden behind a curtain of overgrown vines. It was a place the capital had forgotten—silent, cold, and forbidding.
"We're here. Let's head in," Lunara whispered, pushing past the brush.
The transition was instant. The warmth of the rising sun vanished, replaced by a damp, suffocating chill. The cave was a throat of absolute darkness, lit only by the faint, rhythmic pulse of dying mana-crystals embedded in the walls.
"Careful where you step," Light warned, his hand moving instinctively to the hilt of a hidden blade. "The floor isn't as solid as it looks."
"In here," Lunara said, stepping toward a solid rock wall. But as she passed through it, the air shimmered like heat on a summer day. Alger followed, gasping as he stepped into what felt like another dimension.
The dark, damp cave was gone. In its place was a massive, glowing cavern lit by rivers of molten gold and bioluminescent moss. "Wow... what is this place? And there are so many... small people," Alger said, his eyes wide with amazement as he watched figures scurrying about with hammers and gears.
"Dwarfs," Light explained, his voice echoing. "Masters of the forge and even better at brewing. Their alcohol is strong , so don't even think about a taste."
They approached a dwarf who was busy sharpening a jagged axe. "Hey," Lunara called out. "Have you seen Sid?"
The dwarf didn't look up, merely gesturing with a calloused thumb toward a set of heavy, obsidian-black doors at the edge of the cavern. "In the workshop. He's been at it for three days straight."
Lunara pushed the doors open. Inside, the room was a chaotic mess of blueprints, metal scraps, and glowing crystals. A young man with shoulder-length black hair stood at a workbench, his emerald-green eyes shielded by thick, brass-rimmed goggles. Sparks flew as he tinkered with a delicate mechanical device.
"Sid, we need your help," Lunara said firmly.
"Huh?" Sid growled, his voice thick with irritation. "I told you I'm in the middle of—" He turned, snapping the goggles up onto his forehead. The words died in his throat. His gaze bypassed Lunara and Light, landing directly on the pale young man hiding behind them.
"Is that... Alger?" Sid whispered, his hands trembling slightly as he set down his tools. "He's alive. But..." Sid's eyes narrowed, scanning Alger with a clinical, almost magical intensity. "Something is wrong. His essence is fragmented. He's lost his memories... and damn it, there's a tracking spell casted an him "
"Can you break it?" Lunara asked, her voice tight with concern.
"It's possible," Sid replied, his eyes never leaving Alger. "But it's going to be delicate. Have him sit over there." He pointed toward a heavy iron chair bolted to the floor in a corner cluttered with glowing conduits.
Alger sat, his pulse thrumming in his ears. Sid approached, carrying an ancient-looking scroll that hummed with a low, rhythmic vibration. "Shirt off," Sid commanded. "I can't work through fabric."
Hesitantly, Alger pulled the cloth over his head. As his skin was exposed, both Light and Lunara let out a sharp, synchronized breath. Across Alger's pale, smooth back was a sprawling network of ink—except it wasn't ink. The lines glowed with a dull, sickly violet light, shifting and pulsing like a living thing. It looked less like a tattoo and more like a cage of thorns etched into his flesh.
"My, my..." Sid whispered, his fingers hovering just inches above the skin. "This isn't just a simple tracker. There are layers here." His hand traveled slowly across the markings, feeling the heat radiating from the curse. "This cluster here is the beacon—that's how they found you. But this..." He traced a jagged line near the nape of Alger's neck. "This is a dual-link seal. It's designed to suppress your power and devour your memories."
Sid straightened his goggles, his expression grim. "I can strip the tracking spell now, but the memory seal is anchored to his life force. If I force it open too quickly, it'll shatter his mind. The rest... the rest is going to take time."
Sid began the ritual, his movements becoming a blur of practiced precision. A faint, emerald light began to seep from his palms, flowing into the violet marks on Alger's skin like water into dry earth. As he worked, ancient, runic symbols—shimmering gold and impossible to read—began to manifest in the air, orbiting Sid and Alger in a rhythmic dance.
The air in the workshop hummed with static, making Alger's hair stand on end. For five intense minutes, the room felt like the center of a storm. To any other mage, a de-spelling of this caliber would have taken an entire day and a circle of casters, but Sid worked with a feverish, almost desperate speed.
Finally, the emerald light flared once and vanished. The outermost ring of the tattoo on Alger's back flickered and faded into nothingness.
"There," Sid rasped, sliding his goggles up into his sweat-damp hair. His breathing was heavy, his face a shade paler than before. "The tracking spell is disabled. You're invisible to them now."
"So... the other two?" Alger asked, his voice hesitant as he reached back to touch the skin that now felt oddly cool. "The memory and the seal?"
Light stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Alger's shoulder. "Don't sweat the small stuff, kid. If anyone can erase those shackles, it's this grumpy genius here."