Chapter 24: Flames of Rougeria
They left the tavern before dawn.
Lira pulled her hood lower. The streets were empty at this hour. Just grey light and grey stone and the distant sound of a dog barking somewhere.
"He's tracking the mana," Adrian said. He walked with his excel open, his eyes moving between the screen and the street. "Every time we use a gate, he gets a signal. Not our location. Just... someone is here."
"How long until he pinpoints us?"
"Days. Maybe less."
Aryan walked ahead. His smile was in place. But his eyes—
Lira saw it.
He was looking at the buildings. The corners. The places where shadows pooled.
He knows this street.
He's walked it before.
"Left," Aryan said.
They turned.
_ _ _
The first attack came at the bridge.
Thugs.
Drunk. Armed with clubs and bad intentions. They spilled out of an alley, blocking the way forward.
"Coin," one said. "All of it."
Aryan kept walking.
"I said coin—"
Swoosh.
Aryan touched his shoulder.
The thug became a frog.
Plop.
The frog landed in the river.
The other thugs stared.
Then ran.
Aryan didn't watch them go. He just kept walking.
Lira hurried to catch up.
"You didn't have to—"
"They would have followed us. Asked questions. Led someone to us."
His smile didn't change.
"A frog asks no questions."
The second attack came at noon.
Professional this time. Black armor. No insignia.
Three of them. Dropping from a rooftop.
Swoosh.
Aryan caught the first. Transfigured him into a rat. The rat squeaked and vanished into a drain.
Lira was already moving.
Spear of Longinus.
Light gathered. Threw.
Thud.
The second assassin hit the wall. His armor had a hole in it. He didn't get up.
The third ran.
Caw.
Adrian's crow followed.
"Got him," Adrian said. "He's leading us somewhere."
The crow led them to a warehouse.
Not the main one. A satellite.
Small and Inconspicuous. The kind of place you'd walk past without looking twice.
Aryan stood at the corner, watching.
"Three inside," he said. "Maybe four."
"Guards?" Lira asked.
"Clerks. This is an accounting house. They track shipments here."
Adrian's eyes were on his excel. The crow's feed flickered across the screen.
Lira's hands curled into fists.
"Then we take it."
Aryan looked at her.
His smile widened. Just slightly.
"Finally."
The fight was short.
Three clerks. No combat training. They surrendered as soon as Lira kicked the door open.
Aryan stood guard. Adrian moved to the shelves. His fingers found the right ledger in seconds.
"Adeus," he said. "He moves shipments through here every three days. Slaves. Null tech. Weapons."
He flipped pages.
"Next shipment is tomorrow. To the main warehouse."
"Where?" Lira asked.
Adrian looked up.
"The river district. South end."
They left the clerks bound. Not dead. Aryan wouldn't kill them. Lira didn't ask why.
They moved south.
The buildings changed. Older and poorer.
Aryan slowed.
Lira noticed.
"What is it?"
He didn't answer.
He was looking at a gap between two buildings. An empty space where something used to stand.
"My family's estate," he said.
His voice was flat.
"They burned it to the ground. Built over it. Pretended it never existed."
Lira looked at the gap. At the new buildings rising on either side.
"You can still see the outline," Aryan said. "If you know what to look for."
He stood there for a moment longer.
Then his smile returned.
"We should keep moving."
"Lord Aryan?"
The voice came from an alley.
A woman. Old. Bent. Her eyes were clouded with age, but her face—
Her face knew him.
Aryan stopped.
His smile didn't change. But his hands—behind his back—clenched.
"You're dead," the woman whispered. "They said you died in the fire."
Aryan said nothing.
The woman took a step closer. Her trembling hand reached for his face.
Aryan didn't move.
"You have his eyes," she said. "Lord Rex's eyes."
Rex.
The name hung in the air.
Aryan's smile tightened.
"You're mistaken," he said. "I don't know you."
The woman stared at him.
Then she nodded. Slowly.
"Of course," she whispered. "Of course."
She stepped back into the alley.
And was gone.
Lira looked at Aryan. At his smile. At his eyes.
Rex's eyes.
She didn't ask.
The river district was worse than the rest of the city.
The buildings leaned toward the water like they were trying to drown themselves. The air smelled of fish and rot and something else—something chemical.
Null tech.
Adrian's crows circled above.
"The warehouse is two blocks east," he said. "Twelve guards. Maybe more."
"Can we take them?" Lira asked.
Aryan tilted his head.
"Yes."
"Quietly?"
His smile widened.
"No."
Swoosh.
He moved before Lira could respond.
The first guard didn't even see him.
A transfiguration.
A rabbit hopped away from where a man had been standing.
The second guard turned.
Too late.
Swoosh.
Transfiguration.
A sparrow flew into the grey sky.
The third guard screamed.
Aryan stood before him. Smiling.
"Run," he said.
The guard ran.
Lira caught up. Her lance was in her hand.
"That was not quiet."
"No," Aryan said. "But now they know we're coming."
He looked at the warehouse.
"And they're afraid."
They took the warehouse in seven minutes.
Guards fell. Transfigured. Disarmed. Not killed. Aryan wouldn't kill them. Lira didn't understand why.
"Dead men tell no tales," Aryan said, standing over a guard who had become a garden snake. "But they also can't run."
He looked at the snake slithering away.
"I want Adeus to know we're here. I want him to fear."
The warehouse held cages.
Empty now. But Lira could smell them. The slaves who had been here. Their fear had soaked into the wood.
She touched a cage.
Her hands were shaking.
"We're too late," she said.
"No," Adrian said. He was at a desk, flipping through papers. "They're being moved. Tomorrow. To the main warehouse."
He looked up.
"Where Adeus will be."
Lira turned.
"Then we go tomorrow."
"Yes."
She looked at the cages. At the chains on the floor. At the ghost of every slave who had passed through this place.
"I want him to see me coming."
Adrian nodded.
"He will."
They left the warehouse burning.
Not the whole thing. Just the records. The ledgers. The evidence of what had happened there.
Adrian watched the flames from across the street. His crows circled above.
"Adeus knows now," he said.
"Good," Lira said.
Aryan stood apart. His smile was gone.
He was looking at the fire.
Remembering another fire.
Another building.
Another life.
Rex.
He closed his eyes.
When he opened them, the smile was back.
"We should go," he said. "He'll send more assassins now."
They walked into the grey Rougerian evening.
Behind them, the warehouse smoldered.
And somewhere in the city, Adeus the Destroyer received the news.
The sun had set.
The river was black. The buildings were black. The sky was black.
And at the window of a tower overlooking the river district, a man stood.
He was tall. Broad. His hair was grey—not from age, but from something else. Something that had drained the color from him.
Adeus.
The report lay on the desk behind him.
Warehouse 7 destroyed. Records lost. Witnesses report three individuals. One female, light magic. One male, transfiguration. One male, no visible combat, appeared to be leader.
He read it again.
No visible combat.
He smiled.
It was not a pleasant smile.
"The Blasphemer," he murmured. "In my city."
He turned from the window.
"Prepare the main warehouse," he said. "And send word to Havoc. Tell him his old friend has come to visit."
The servant bowed.
Adeus looked back at the river.
"Let them come," he said. "I've been waiting for a reason to kill."