Ciel walked until her legs could no longer carry her.
Only then did she stop.
She did not know how long she had been moving through the forest. The sun had already climbed high above the trees, but beneath the dense canopy it was difficult to tell whether hours had passed or only minutes.
Her breathing came in short, painful bursts.
Her shoulder hurt from tumbling down the slope.
Her feet burned.
Every heartbeat sent another pulse of pain beneath her broken nails.
But the forest behind her was silent.
No shouting.
No horses.
No bandits.
No Yunior.
Ciel leaned against a tree and slowly slid down the trunk.
For the first time since escaping, she allowed herself to breathe.
"I'm alive..."
Her voice sounded strangely small.
She looked at her hands.
Then at the forest around her.
"I'm alive."
She repeated it as if saying it twice would make it more real.
Her lips trembled.
Ciel covered her mouth.
For several breaths, she fought against the tears.
Then she stopped fighting.
She curled beneath the tree and cried.
For Jonathan.
For William.
For the people she had seen lying dead beside the caravan.
For the Andrew girl.
For Yunior, because she did not know whether he had escaped.
For her parents.
And for herself.
Only a few days earlier, her greatest worry had been whether she would pass the entrance examination at Living Books Academy.
That life already felt impossibly distant.
Eventually, the tears stopped.
Not because she felt better.
She simply had none left.
Ciel wiped her face with her sleeve.
She could not stay there.
The bandits might still be searching for survivors.
And even if they were not, she had no food.
No water.
No blanket.
No weapon.
Nothing.
Her hand instinctively reached for the leather bag that should have been hanging from her shoulder.
It was gone.
Everything her parents had spent weeks preparing for the journey was gone.
Her clothes.
Her money.
Her identification tablet.
The dried food her mother had packed.
Even the small sewing kit her father had insisted she carry.
Gone.
Ciel lowered her head.
Then something caught her eye.
The ring.
The strange bronze-green ring remained tightly wrapped around her finger.
Its green pearl was dull now.
Almost ordinary.
Ciel grabbed it with her other hand and pulled.
Nothing.
She twisted it.
Nothing.
She pulled harder.
The ring refused to move.
"What are you?"
No answer came.
She remembered the buried hand.
The blood touching the pearl.
The red light.
The pain.
Ciel shivered.
She quickly pulled her sleeve over it.
Whatever the ring was, she had enough problems already.
First—
Blue Port.
She had to reach Blue Port.
Ciel forced herself to stand.
Finding the city proved harder than she expected.
She knew the caravan had been approaching Blue Port from the east, but knowing a direction and navigating through a forest were very different things.
Every tree looked the same.
Every hill seemed to lead toward another hill.
Eventually, she found a narrow stream.
That gave her water, at least.
Ciel knelt beside it and drank until her stomach hurt.
Afterward, she washed some of the blood from her hands and face.
Her reflection trembled across the surface.
She almost did not recognize herself.
Her hair was tangled.
One cheek was scratched.
Her clothes were stained with mud, smoke and dried blood.
Dark circles surrounded her eyes.
She remembered Camila walking between the prisoners.
Inspecting them.
Evaluating them.
Ciel abruptly looked away.
"Blue Port."
She needed to keep moving.
Streams led somewhere.
People needed water.
Settlements and roads were often built near rivers.
It was not much of a plan.
But it was better than wandering blindly.
She followed the stream.
By afternoon, she found footprints.
Then wagon tracks.
Later, the stream joined a larger river.
And beside that river—
a road.
Ciel almost laughed.
Deep wheel marks ran west.
Blue Port.
It had to be.
She began walking.
The first wagon passed before sunset.
Ciel raised her hand.
"Excuse me!"
The driver looked at her.
For one hopeful moment, she thought he might stop.
Instead, he pulled the horse slightly toward the opposite side of the road.
A woman sitting beside him glanced back toward Ciel.
She whispered something.
The driver shook his head.
The wagon continued.
Ciel slowly lowered her hand.
She looked down at herself.
Of course.
She did not look like a student traveling toward the city.
She looked like a beggar.
Or a thief waiting beside the road.
The second wagon did not stop either.
Neither did the third.
By nightfall, Ciel accepted that no one was going to take her.
She slept beneath a tree beside the road.
Or tried to.
Every sound woke her.
Leaves moving.
A branch snapping.
Something walking in the darkness.
Twice, she woke convinced that she had heard footsteps.
There was nothing.
At some point, she realized one hand was wrapped tightly around a stone.
Before the caravan attack, she had never slept holding a weapon.
Now the thought of sleeping without one made her uncomfortable.
She kept the stone.
The next morning, hunger became painful.
Ciel walked anyway.
By midday, she began seeing more travelers.
Farmers.
Merchants.
Caravans.
Men wearing matching robes passed her on horseback.
Cultivators.
Ciel stepped aside immediately.
One of them briefly glanced toward her.
Then looked away.
Completely uninterested.
For some reason, that bothered her.
William had seemed almost legendary in Orione.
Here, cultivators simply traveled along the road like everyone else.
Later, she saw smoke.
Then rooftops.
Then walls.
Ciel stopped.
Blue Port.
For sixteen years, the city had existed mostly in stories.
Her parents spoke about it constantly.
They had studied there.
Met there.
Learned their profession there.
People in Orione used Blue Port whenever they wanted to make something sound prestigious.
Blue Port clothing.
Blue Port craftsmen.
Blue Port scholars.
Blue Port cultivators.
Now it stood before her.
The walls were taller than any building in Orione.
Stone towers rose above them at regular intervals.
Large banners moved in the wind.
Beyond the walls, rooftops stretched farther than she could count.
There were buildings with three floors.
Some with four.
Glazed tiles reflected sunlight from structures that looked more expensive than entire streets back home.
Ciel forgot her exhaustion for a moment.
"It's huge..."
She had imagined Blue Port countless times.
Her imagination had been too small.
The road widened near the gate.
Hundreds of people moved in both directions.
Carts carrying grain.
Wagons loaded with timber.
Merchants.
Farmers.
Travelers.
Soldiers.
Cultivators.
Ciel joined them.
Nobody noticed her.
For once, she was grateful.
The guards inspected wagons and collected fees from merchants.
People entering on foot passed with little difficulty.
One guard briefly looked at Ciel.
His gaze paused on her filthy clothing.
"Begging inside the main commercial streets is prohibited."
Ciel blinked.
"I'm not—"
"Keep moving."
Someone behind her complained.
"Girl! Move!"
Ciel stepped forward.
And just like that—
she entered Blue Port City.
Noise struck her first.
Orione suddenly seemed impossibly quiet.
Merchants shouted prices from stalls.
Metal rang from workshops.
Horses pulled carts through crowded streets.
Children ran between pedestrians.
Food vendors filled the air with unfamiliar smells.
Everywhere Ciel looked, something was happening.
She saw clothes more expensive than anything Lara Kim had ever worn.
Shops displayed swords behind glass.
Jade ornaments.
Medicinal herbs.
Books.
Jewelry.
Tiny porcelain bottles containing pills.
Cultivators walked openly through the crowd.
A man in green robes carried a sword across his back.
A young woman dressed in white had a blue bird perched on her shoulder.
Ciel stared until the woman noticed.
She immediately looked away.
She felt tiny.
But underneath the fear—
something else stirred.
Excitement.
This was Blue Port.
She had made it.
Against everything that had happened—
she had made it.
Then her stomach growled.
Reality returned.
Living Books Academy first.
If she could explain what happened...
Perhaps someone there would help.
She asked for directions.
The first person ignored her.
The second vaguely pointed north.
The third actually explained the route.
Nearly an hour later, Ciel found herself before two large stone buildings connected by a decorated archway.
Books had been carved into the pillars.
Golden characters stood above the entrance.
LIVING BOOKS ACADEMY
Young men and women passed through the gates wearing clean clothes.
Some carried wooden cases filled with books.
Others were accompanied by servants.
Ciel remained across the street for several moments.
She looked down at herself.
For the first time since reaching the city, she hesitated.
Then she remembered her mother carefully decorating the food for her farewell dinner.
Her father wishing her luck.
Ciel straightened her back.
She crossed the street.
A middle-aged man sat behind a desk near the entrance.
He looked up.
"Applicant?"
"Yes."
He extended a hand.
"Registration tablet."
Ciel froze.
"My belongings were stolen."
His hand remained extended.
"Our caravan was attacked on the road. Bandits. I came from Orione Town."
That got his attention.
"Orione?"
"Yes."
"The Orion shipment?"
"I think so."
His expression changed slightly.
Apparently news had already reached the city.
"You're one of the survivors?"
Ciel nodded quickly.
"Yes."
"Then report to the Western Guard Office. They're registering survivors."
Hope returned.
"Can I still take the academy examination?"
"Registration tablet."
"I lost it."
"Then obtain a replacement."
"Where?"
"Civil Registry."
Ciel hesitated.
"And then I can take the examination?"
"If registration is still open."
"Still open?"
"The written examination begins tomorrow morning."
Her heart sank.
"Can I get another tablet today?"
The man shrugged.
"Ask the Registry."
Ciel looked through the gates.
"So I can't enter?"
"Not without registration."
"I only want to speak with someone. I traveled three months from Orione—"
The man sighed.
"Girl."
His voice was not cruel.
If anything, that made it worse.
"Dozens of applicants arrive with stories. I can't allow everyone who claims they lost their documents into the academy."
"But—"
"Western Guard Office. Civil Registry."
He gestured toward the street.
"Next."
A boy behind Ciel stepped forward carrying a polished wooden tablet.
Ciel remained still.
"Next."
She moved aside.
The boy did not even look at her.
Ciel stood outside the academy gate for several seconds.
Then slowly walked away.
Tomorrow.
The examination was tomorrow.
She had no documents.
No money.
No idea where the Civil Registry was.
Her stomach growled again.
There was still another possibility.
Franco Taylor.
Her father had told her about him.
A botanist.
He needed apprentices.
Maybe that did not require academy registration.
Maybe—
Ciel began asking for directions again.
Franco Taylor's herbarium was easier to find.
Everyone in that district seemed to know it.
The building stood beside a large enclosed garden.
Ciel could smell herbs before she reached the entrance.
Rows of plants grew beyond the fence.
Some she recognized.
Most she did not.
For the first time since leaving the academy, Ciel felt a little confidence return.
She was intelligent.
She could learn.
She could read.
Write.
Count.
She had helped her parents keep records for their clothing shop.
Someone only needed to give her a chance.
Two young apprentices stood near the entrance carrying baskets of herbs.
Ciel approached.
"Excuse me."
One looked toward her.
Then immediately looked away.
"I'm looking for Master Franco Taylor."
That got both their attention.
The taller apprentice laughed.
"Master Taylor?"
"My father heard that he was looking for apprentices."
"He was."
Ciel's heart lifted.
"I'd like to apply."
The two apprentices looked at each other.
Then at her.
One wrinkled his nose.
"Apply?"
Ciel's cheeks warmed.
"Our caravan was attacked. I haven't had an opportunity to clean myself properly."
The taller one stepped backward.
"Whatever happened, take a bath first."
His companion laughed.
Ciel clenched her hands.
"Can I speak with Master Taylor?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because Master Taylor doesn't meet every beggar who walks in from the street."
"I'm not a beggar."
The apprentice looked at her clothes.
Then her feet.
He did not need to answer.
Ciel's face burned.
"I came from Orione. My father specifically told me Master Taylor was looking for people to help with his herbarium."
"Positions were filled weeks ago."
Her stomach dropped.
"There isn't any work?"
"Work?"
The second apprentice looked toward the garden.
Then back at Ciel.
"With that smell, perhaps the fertilizer beds could use you."
Both laughed.
Ciel stood still.
She wanted to say something.
Anything.
Nothing came.
The taller apprentice waved her away.
"Go. You're blocking the entrance."
Ciel turned.
Behind her, she heard one of them mutter,
"Where do these people keep coming from?"
More laughter.
Ciel continued walking until she could no longer hear it.
Then she stopped.
Her hands were shaking.
Not from fear this time.
Anger.
Humiliation.
For months she had imagined arriving here.
If she failed the academy—
Franco Taylor.
A respectable profession.
A way to earn money.
A way to help her parents.
She had reached both places.
Neither had even allowed her through the door.
By evening, hunger dominated almost every thought.
Food was everywhere.
That made it worse.
Roasted meat.
Soup.
Bread.
Fried pastries.
Steamed buns.
Ciel stopped before a small stall.
"How much?"
"Two copper."
She instinctively touched her clothes.
Nothing.
She already knew.
The vendor watched her.
Ciel lowered her hand.
"Sorry."
She walked away.
Two copper coins.
Back home, they meant almost nothing.
Now they were the difference between eating and going hungry.
She wandered into poorer streets as the expensive storefronts began disappearing.
Buildings became narrower.
Pawnshops replaced jewelry stores.
Repair stalls replaced fine craftsmen.
Secondhand clothing hung from wooden poles.
For the first time, Ciel saw people dressed nearly as poorly as she was.
That brought some relief.
At least here she attracted less attention.
She stopped at several inns.
The cheapest still wanted six copper coins for a shared sleeping room.
Ciel had none.
At another place, the innkeeper barely let her finish asking.
"No coin, no bed."
The door closed.
Night began falling.
Ciel continued walking.
She was exhausted.
Every part of her body wanted to sit somewhere and stop.
But whenever she saw a dark alley, she remembered the cage.
So she kept moving.
Eventually, she entered a district that seemed to come alive as the rest of the city quieted.
Red lanterns hung outside tall buildings.
Music drifted from open windows.
Women wearing revealing silk leaned over balconies, laughing down at passing men.
Drunken customers stumbled between taverns and brightly painted houses.
Ciel slowed.
She understood quickly enough what kind of district she had entered.
She turned to leave.
A man's voice sounded behind her.
"Hey, Marta."
Ciel kept walking.
Another voice answered.
"What?"
"Didn't your cabaret need another dancer?"
Ciel's steps slowed.
Three people stood beneath a red lantern.
Two broad men and a heavily painted woman wearing an expensive but gaudy dress.
The first man casually nodded toward Ciel.
"Since Lord Caspen bought the redhead."
The woman snorted.
"He didn't buy her. He bought out her contract."
"Same thing."
The second man looked toward Ciel.
"What about that one?"
Ciel felt their eyes on her back.
The woman examined her.
"Too filthy."
The first man laughed.
"Nothing a bath can't fix."
"Turn around, girl."
Ciel continued walking.
The man's voice hardened.
"He's talking to you."
One of the men moved around her and leaned against the wall ahead, blocking the narrow street.
Ciel stopped.
The painted woman approached.
Up close, her eyes were cold despite the smile.
"Let me see you."
"No."
The woman raised an eyebrow.
"Pretty voice too."
She stepped closer.
Ciel stepped back.
The first man tilted his head.
"Young."
"Sixteen? Seventeen?" the other guessed.
The woman's gaze moved across Ciel's face.
"Hard to tell beneath all that dirt."
She reached toward Ciel's chin.
Ciel slapped her hand away.
"Don't touch me."
The men laughed.
The woman did not.
If anything, she looked more interested.
"Still has some spirit."
The first man grinned.
"Some customers pay extra for that."
Ciel's stomach tightened.
The woman slowly walked around her.
"No luggage."
"No servant."
"No family crest."
Her eyes dropped toward Ciel's worn shoes.
"Alone after dark."
She smiled.
"You're not from Blue Port."
Ciel said nothing.
"Where are you staying?"
"With relatives."
"Where?"
Ciel hesitated half a breath too long.
The first man laughed.
"There it is."
The woman sighed.
"At least learn to lie before coming to a city."
Ciel's fingers moved toward the stone inside her sleeve.
The woman gestured toward the cabaret.
"My establishment needs another dancer."
"No."
"You haven't heard what it pays."
"No."
"Food."
"No."
"A bed."
Ciel started walking.
The man blocking the street moved directly into her path.
"Clean clothes," the woman continued.
Ciel turned.
"I said no."
The woman's smile faded.
"You dance. Pour drinks. Entertain customers."
"No."
"And if a wealthy man takes a liking to you, perhaps he'll buy out your contract."
The first man chuckled.
"Lord Caspen paid fifty gold for the last one."
Ciel felt cold.
"Contract?"
The woman looked almost amused.
"Oh, don't make that face."
"I never signed a contract."
"Not yet."
Silence.
The meaning settled in Ciel's stomach.
"You're trying to enslave me."
The first man laughed.
"Such an ugly word."
The woman shrugged.
"Food. Clothing. Lodging. Training."
"All of that becomes debt."
"I don't want any of it."
"That isn't particularly important anymore."
Ciel's hand closed around the stone.
The woman noticed.
"Oh?"
She smiled.
"She bites."
One man stepped closer.
"Should I?"
The woman studied Ciel's face.
"Don't damage it."
Ciel moved.
The stone came out of her sleeve.
She slammed it into the nearest man's nose.
Crack!
"AAH!"
Blood poured between his fingers.
Ciel ran.
The second man grabbed her sleeve.
The cloth tightened against her throat.
She twisted and bit his hand.
Hard.
"BITCH!"
He released her.
Ciel kicked backward and sprinted toward the larger street.
"GET HER!"
Footsteps followed.
Her exhausted legs screamed.
She ignored them.
Twenty steps.
Ten.
Five.
Ciel burst between two pedestrians.
"HELP!"
Several people turned.
The man was still coming.
Ciel screamed louder.
"THEY'RE TRYING TO KIDNAP ME!"
Heads turned.
A merchant stepped out from behind his stall.
Someone farther down the road shouted,
"Guard!"
Three uniformed guards were moving through the crowd.
The pursuing man immediately slowed.
The painted woman appeared at the mouth of the street.
Her expression became ugly.
"Come back."
The injured man hesitated.
"But—"
"NOW."
"We can still—"
"Do you want the Guard inspecting our contracts?"
That silenced him.
Before disappearing, the second man pointed toward Ciel.
"You'd better hope we don't see you alone again."
The woman slapped his hand down.
"Idiot."
All three vanished beneath the red lanterns.
Ciel remained among the crowd.
Her hands trembled.
Nobody came to comfort her.
A few people watched curiously.
Most returned to their business.
The guards approached.
"What happened?"
Ciel opened her mouth.
Then looked toward the street.
They were already gone.
She imagined questions.
Documents.
Where she lived.
Why she was alone.
She did not even have identification.
"They left."
"Who?"
Ciel hesitated.
The guard sighed.
"If you're making a complaint, come to the district office."
Then his eyes dropped toward the stone still clutched in her hand.
"If not, don't start fights in the street."
They moved on.
Ciel stared after them.
Blue Port.
She had been inside the city for less than a day.
The academy would not let her enter.
The botanist had laughed at her.
She could not afford food.
She could not afford a bed.
And strangers had discussed selling her contract as casually as her parents discussed bolts of cloth.
Ciel rubbed the wrist the man had grabbed.
Orione was poor.
Tiny.
Everyone knew everyone.
She had spent years dreaming about leaving.
For the first time in her life—
she desperately missed home.
The city continued closing around her.
Shutter after shutter.
Door after door.
Ciel walked more slowly now.
She no longer knew where she was going.
Then she noticed light farther down the street.
One shop was still open.
Only one.
Two uniformed men stood outside speaking with an elderly woman.
Ciel stopped.
Faint mist surrounded both men.
Cultivators.
The elderly woman stood in the doorway with her hands hidden inside the sleeves of a dark violet robe.
"Senior Voss," one guard said, "Captain Brenner said the remaining payment will be delivered tomorrow."
The woman's expression remained calm.
"The remaining payment?"
The guard became uncomfortable.
"The Treasury Office—"
"I didn't interrogate the Treasury Office."
The younger soldier suppressed a smile.
"It was an emergency."
"So I was told when someone dragged me out before sunrise."
"The prisoner confessed after you left."
"I know."
Both guards looked at her.
"You know?"
The woman smiled faintly.
"Why else would I have told you to question the third man again?"
The older guard fell silent.
Then bowed.
"Thank you, Senior Voss."
"Thank me tomorrow when the money arrives."
A pause.
"With my emergency consultation fee."
The guard sighed.
"I'll tell the Captain."
"Tell him there's a late-payment fee if he's still arguing by noon."
The younger guard failed to hide his smile.
Both bowed.
"Good night, Senior."
They left.
Ciel watched them pass.
Even cultivators treated the woman respectfully.
Her eyes moved toward the shop.
It was smaller than the grand businesses she had seen near the center of Blue Port, but there was nothing shabby about it.
Polished wooden shelves lined the interior.
Bronze lamps burned warmly inside.
Old swords.
Jade pieces.
Coins.
Small boxes.
Scrolls.
Strange objects she could not identify.
A bronze plaque hung beside the entrance.
VOSS APPRAISALS
Below it:
SPIRITUAL OBJECTS
AURA CONSULTATIONS
DIVINATION
LOST PROPERTY
Ciel did not understand what half of those services meant.
She did not care.
The door was open.
Everything else had closed.
Her stomach hurt.
Her legs trembled.
Tomorrow she would still need money.
A place to stay.
A profession.
Something.
Anything.
Ciel stared at the doorway.
Then she remembered Franco Taylor.
Living Books Academy.
Her parents.
Her mother's farewell dinner.
She swallowed what remained of her pride and approached.
The elderly woman was gathering several documents from a table.
"We're closed," she said without looking up.
"Please."
Mara's hand stopped.
Ciel bowed deeply.
"Please take me as an apprentice."
The old woman finally looked at her.
Her eyes traveled across the torn clothing, mud, scratches and bloody fingers.
Then—
silver light flashed within Mara's pupils.
Immediately.
Ciel did not notice.
She remained bowed.
For Mara, the world changed.
The material street faded slightly as traces of aura emerged.
The first thing surrounding the girl was black.
Dense.
Violent.
Fresh.
Death.
Fear.
Calamity.
Mara's expression lost its casualness.
Whatever had happened to this girl had happened recently.
Very recently.
Then she looked beneath it.
Gold.
Mara's fingers stopped moving.
Dense golden fortune lay buried beneath the black calamity.
Not the weak prosperity of someone about to have a profitable week.
Something deeper.
The sort of aura she occasionally saw surrounding merchant heirs, promising young cultivators or people approaching an important opportunity.
Mara blinked once.
The aura remained.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
The silver disappeared from her eyes.
"Stand up."
Ciel straightened.
Mara examined her normally this time.
"Name?"
"Ciel Yi."
"Age?"
"Sixteen."
"Family?"
"My parents are tailors."
"Cultivators?"
"No."
"Clan?"
"No."
"Sect?"
"No."
"Master?"
Ciel shook her head.
Mara was silent for a moment.
Then she looked toward the darkened street.
Almost every other business had already closed.
"Why here?"
Ciel hesitated.
Honesty seemed safest.
"Because you're still open."
Mara looked at her.
Ciel's cheeks reddened.
"I tried the academy."
"Living Books?"
"Yes."
"They wouldn't let me enter."
"Franco Taylor?"
Ciel looked surprised.
"My father told me to try there if the academy failed."
"And?"
"His apprentices laughed at me."
Mara nodded slightly.
"And now you're here."
Ciel lowered her eyes.
"Yes."
A faint smile touched Mara's lips.
"The last open door."
Ciel looked up.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Mara studied her again.
"You don't even know what I do."
"No."
"Yet you're asking to become my apprentice."
"I can learn."
Mara smiled.
"Can you read?"
"Yes."
"Write?"
"Yes."
"Arithmetic?"
"My parents own a shop. I helped with the accounts."
"Good."
Mara nodded once.
"Very good."
Ciel waited.
Mara deliberately let several seconds pass.
Not because she needed them.
Because one should never appear too eager when Heaven delivered something interesting directly to one's doorstep.
Finally—
"I suppose I could examine you."
Ciel's eyes brightened.
"Really?"
"Don't become excited."
Mara turned slightly.
"I said examine."
"Not accept."
Ciel bowed again.
"Thank you."
Mara looked at her.
"You're very eager."
"I'm hungry."
The answer escaped before Ciel could stop it.
Silence.
Mara's mouth twitched.
Ciel's face went red.
"I mean—"
Her stomach growled.
Loudly.
Mara looked downward.
Then back at Ciel.
"Apparently honesty comes naturally when the stomach participates."
Ciel wanted the ground to swallow her.
Mara stepped aside from the doorway.
"Come inside."
Ciel froze.
"Now?"
"You wanted me to accept you tomorrow?"
"No."
"Then come."
Ciel took one step.
Then stopped.
Mara noticed immediately.
The girl's eyes had gone toward the interior of the shop.
Entrances.
Windows.
Back door.
Distances.
Escape routes.
Mara glanced at the torn sleeve.
Then at the stone still hidden poorly inside it.
Something besides the caravan had happened today.
Mara did not ask.
Instead she moved farther from the doorway.
"The front door locks from inside."
She pointed deeper into the building.
"So does the spare room."
Ciel looked at her.
Mara's expression remained neutral.
"If that matters."
It did.
Ciel entered.
Warm light filled the shop.
Shelves covered almost every wall.
Some objects looked ordinary.
Pottery.
Old coins.
Jewelry.
Others clearly were not.
A cracked sword gave off a faint blue shimmer.
A black stone rested inside a sealed glass case.
Several pieces of jade were covered in tiny inscriptions.
One bronze mirror had been completely wrapped in yellow paper.
Ciel slowed.
Mara noticed.
"Don't touch anything."
Ciel immediately withdrew her hand.
"I wasn't."
"You were thinking about it."
"Is that one of your techniques?"
"No."
Mara glanced toward her.
"Experience."
At the back of the shop stood a wooden table.
Several steamed buns remained on a plate beside a bowl of stew.
Ciel stared.
Mara followed her gaze.
"Sit."
Ciel obeyed.
Mara placed a bowl before her.
Ciel looked at it.
Then at Mara.
"How much?"
Mara raised an eyebrow.
"For the food."
"Nothing."
Ciel continued looking.
Mara sighed.
"If you're going to become my disciple, feeding you will be one of my problems anyway."
Ciel's eyes widened.
"You said you hadn't accepted me."
"I haven't."
Mara sat opposite her.
"But I'm considering it."
Ciel remained suspicious.
Mara pointed toward the bowl.
"Eat before I reconsider that too."
Ciel picked up the spoon.
Then stopped.
She smelled the stew.
Mara stared.
"You think I poisoned it."
Ciel said nothing.
That was answer enough.
Mara looked at her for several seconds.
Then calmly took Ciel's spoon, ate some of the stew herself and returned it.
"No poison."
Ciel nodded.
"Thank you."
She began eating.
Slowly for the first few bites.
Then hunger won.
Warm food reached her stomach.
Her body seemed to remember all at once how long she had gone without it.
Mara poured tea and watched without comment.
Only when Ciel had eaten most of the bowl did she speak.
"You called me a cultivator outside."
Ciel nodded.
"The guards had Qi around them."
Mara raised an eyebrow.
"You can see Qi?"
"Not exactly."
Ciel swallowed.
"A friend explained it to me."
"What friend?"
"Yunior."
"Where is he?"
Ciel's hand stopped.
"I don't know."
Mara did not ask anything further.
Instead—
"Do you want to cultivate?"
Ciel looked up.
Her answer came almost immediately.
"Yes."
That surprised even her.
A few days ago, cultivation had barely interested her.
Now she remembered William's corpse.
Camila.
The cage.
The drunkard.
Blue Port.
Helplessness.
"Yes."
Mara nodded.
"Then if I accept you, you won't be an apprentice."
Ciel frowned.
"What?"
"A mortal artisan takes apprentices."
Mara took a sip of tea.
"A cultivator takes disciples."
Ciel became still.
"If I teach you cultivation, techniques and my profession, our relationship is not the same as employment."
"My knowledge becomes your inheritance."
"Your behavior affects my reputation."
"My reputation becomes part of your protection."
"You owe respect to your master."
"And your master assumes responsibility for you."
Ciel listened carefully.
"A disciple isn't a servant."
Mara's eyes sharpened.
"But neither are they free to learn everything they can and disappear the moment someone offers them more money."
Ciel nodded slowly.
That made sense.
After what had happened that evening, one sentence mattered particularly strongly.
My reputation becomes part of your protection.
Mara noticed the reaction.
She said nothing.
"What would you teach me?"
Ciel asked.
"First?"
Mara gestured around them.
"How not to touch things that can kill you."
Ciel frowned.
"After that."
"Appraisal."
"Spiritual materials."
"Aura observation."
"Divination."
"And cultivation."
Ciel looked toward the plaque visible through the front room.
"Divination."
"Yes."
"What is it?"
Mara leaned back.
"A profession everyone mocks until they're frightened."
Ciel waited.
"Warriors trust their swords."
"Merchants trust numbers."
"Scholars want everything proven."
"Hunters trust experience."
Mara raised one hand.
"Then their caravan disappears."
"Their child goes missing."
"Someone discovers an object they don't understand."
"An expedition enters ruins nobody has explored."
"A prisoner refuses to confess."
"And suddenly everyone wants to know what Heaven has to say."
Ciel remembered the guards.
"You knew which prisoner was guilty."
"I knew which one had an aura inconsistent with his story."
"What's the difference?"
"A very important one."
Mara smiled faintly.
"Divination rarely gives answers as neatly as people want."
Ciel became interested despite her exhaustion.
"How did you learn?"
Mara rotated the teacup between her fingers.
"I bought my cultivation manual."
"You bought it?"
"At auction."
Ciel waited.
Mara's posture changed almost imperceptibly.
There was pride in her now.
"When I was young, I wasn't a cultivator."
"What did you do?"
"Kept ledgers."
"For merchants?"
"One trading company."
Mara waved dismissively.
"Shipments. Payroll. Warehouses. Debts. Extremely exciting."
"You didn't like it?"
"It paid."
Apparently that answered the question.
"I wanted to cultivate."
Mara continued.
"My family were mortals."
"Not poor."
"Not rich enough to throw cultivation resources at an ordinary daughter either."
"So I worked."
"And saved."
"For years."
"Then came the Grand Blue Port Auction."
Ciel tilted her head.
"The what?"
Mara looked horrified.
"You truly are from Orione."
Ciel frowned.
"Every four years," Mara explained, "Blue Port's largest auction house holds a cultivation auction."
"Rare spirit plants."
"Beast materials."
"Pills."
"Artifacts."
"Manuals."
"Items recovered from ruins."
"Things people spend four years saving money to fight over."
Mara smiled.
"I never miss one."
"When is the next?"
"One year, nine months and twelve days."
Ciel stared.
"You knew that immediately."
"Some dates matter."
Ciel almost smiled.
Mara continued.
"At the auction I attended as a mortal, they presented a cultivation scripture."
Her voice became quieter.
"Heavenly Dao Observation Art."
Ciel listened.
"It once belonged to the Heavenly Star Sect."
"Thousands of years ago, that sect was led by a Nascent Soul cultivator."
"Nascent Soul?"
"Far beyond anything you need to worry about."
"For now."
Mara took another sip.
"The art supposedly had three chapters."
"Only the First survived."
"It can cultivate from Qi Condensation through Foundation Establishment."
Ciel's eyes widened.
Even she understood the significance of that.
"What happened to the rest?"
"Lost."
"The Heavenly Star Sect declined over generations and was eventually destroyed."
"Centuries later, the First Chapter was found in the ruins of an entirely different sect."
"No one knows how it arrived there."
"And the other two?"
Mara smiled.
"If I knew, this conversation would be happening somewhere much more expensive."
Ciel almost laughed.
"Was the manual cheap because it was incomplete?"
"Cheap?"
Mara looked offended.
"No."
Ciel blinked.
"Foundation Establishment scriptures are never cheap."
"There were several bidders."
"Collectors."
"Independent cultivators."
"A couple of professional families."
Mara's eyes gleamed.
"But the auction had more desirable treasures."
"A Foundation Establishment Pill."
"Rare spirit medicines."
"A powerful weapon."
"Most wealthy families were preserving their money for those."
She smiled.
"And Divination isn't popular."
"Why?"
"People like hitting things."
Ciel laughed unexpectedly.
Mara continued.
"Combat techniques are easy to appreciate."
"Alchemy makes pills."
"Botany grows spiritual plants."
"Forging creates weapons."
"Divination tells you that something bad might happen, perhaps, somewhere, depending on several factors."
Ciel smiled.
"When you say it like that..."
"Exactly."
Mara pointed at her.
"Which is why I could afford it."
"Did you spend a lot?"
"Nearly everything I had."
Ciel became serious.
"Weren't you afraid?"
"Terrified."
"Do you regret it?"
Mara stared at her.
"Never."
The answer came instantly.
She gestured toward the room.
"This business exists because of that manual."
"My cultivation."
"My profession."
"My reputation."
"The guards calling me Senior."
"The food you're eating."
"Everything."
Mara's expression was proud.
"It was the best purchase of my life."
Ciel looked around again.
The shop suddenly seemed different.
Not simply a business.
The result of one decision.
"Then why do you still go to every auction?"
Mara looked almost offended by the question.
"Because perhaps the next best purchase of my life is still waiting for me."
That made Ciel pause.
Mara leaned slightly forward.
"Remember something if you become my disciple."
"You can recognize an opportunity perfectly..."
She tapped one finger against the table.
"...and still watch somebody else take it because their purse is deeper."
"Fortune means very little if you can't afford to seize it."
Ciel thought about two copper coins.
The academy.
Her parents' shop.
Money.
Again.
Always money.
Mara noticed her expression.
"You understand."
Ciel nodded.
"Better than I'd like."
"Good."
Mara smiled.
"Then perhaps teaching you won't be unbearable."
By the time Ciel finished eating, exhaustion returned all at once.
Her eyelids felt heavy.
Her shoulders sagged.
Mara stood.
"Washroom is through there."
Ciel looked toward the indicated door.
"It locks from inside."
Mara added before she could ask.
Ciel relaxed slightly.
"There's an old robe in the cabinet."
"Yours?"
"Unless somebody has been secretly leaving clothes in my house."
Ciel nodded.
"And upstairs?"
"Spare room."
"Also locks."
A pause.
"From inside."
Ciel looked at Mara.
"Thank you."
Mara waved dismissively.
"Sleep first."
"Tomorrow I examine your meridians, constitution and aptitude."
"And then?"
"Then I decide whether to formally accept you."
Ciel hesitated.
"What if I have no talent?"
Mara's eyes rested on her.
There was that unreadable expression again.
"Talent matters."
"But cultivation has never been kind enough to make it the only thing that matters."
Ciel wasn't sure whether that was reassuring.
Mara turned toward the shop.
"Go."
Ciel started walking.
Then stopped.
"Senior Voss."
Mara looked back.
"Why did you change your mind so quickly?"
A brief silence.
Mara smiled.
Not broadly.
Not enough for Ciel to understand what she was thinking.
"You arrived at an interesting moment."
"That's not an answer."
"I'm a diviner."
Mara turned away.
"You'll become accustomed to that."
Ciel frowned.
But she was too tired to argue.
She climbed the stairs.
A few minutes later, water began running in the washroom.
Mara remained downstairs.
Silver light quietly appeared within her eyes.
She looked toward the ceiling.
Black calamity.
And underneath—
gold.
Mara slowly smiled.
Perhaps it meant nothing.
Perhaps it meant everything.
Fate was rarely polite enough to explain itself.
But Mara had learned one lesson particularly well.
When an unusual opportunity appeared within reach—
you examined it before someone else did.
The water was warm.
Ciel stood beneath it for a long time.
Mud disappeared.
Blood washed from her hands.
Smoke left her hair.
She scrubbed until her skin hurt.
Then she stopped.
For the first time since the caravan attack, she was somewhere with a locked door between herself and the world.
No cages.
No bandits.
No footsteps outside.
No strange men watching her.
Just water.
Warmth.
Silence.
Ciel lowered her head.
Her shoulders began shaking.
But this time she didn't cry from fear.
She wasn't even certain why she was crying.
Relief, perhaps.
She finished bathing.
Mara's robe was much too large.
Ciel rolled the sleeves several times.
When she entered the spare room, she found a narrow bed, a small cabinet and one window overlooking the street.
Nothing luxurious.
It was the most beautiful room she had ever seen.
She closed the door.
Locked it.
Then checked the lock twice.
Ciel sat on the bed.
Her hand moved inside her sleeve.
The stone was still there.
She looked at it.
For several seconds, she considered placing it beneath the pillow.
Then she looked at the locked door.
Slowly—
she placed the stone on the table beside the bed instead.
Close enough to reach.
But not in her hand.
Ciel lay down.
The mattress felt impossibly soft.
She thought about her parents.
Yunior.
The academy.
Mara Voss.
Cultivation.
Divination.
Tomorrow.
For the first time since leaving Orione—
tomorrow didn't frighten her.
Ciel closed her eyes.
And slept.