POV: RIO
The morning sun over Dustford didn't rise with a royal fanfare; it simply drifted lazily through the gaps in the shutters of the Rusty Spigot, smelling of toasted barley and the damp, familiar scent of the nearby river.
It had been roughly a month since we arrived in this town, and three weeks since the contract with Sui—three weeks of living in the shadow of a Master-tier secret while trying to pretend we were just another pair of faces in the crowd. Since our original inn had gone under renovation, the Spigot had become our makeshift home. It was noisier, the floorboards groaned in three different languages, and the breakfast was mostly mystery stew, but it was perfect for disappearing.
I sat on the edge of my cot, my eyes closed, focusing on the contract Aurelia had once warned me about.
Draw it in. Pack it tight. Don't let the edges fray.
Mana suppression was a paradoxical art. Most mages spent their lives trying to draw mana out—but Aurelia had taught me the opposite. Control wasn't about output. It was about containment.
My body was still twelve. My soul wasn't.
I visualized my mana not as a flame, but as a dense, silver thread. Just like she had shown me. Layer by layer, I wound it inward—compressing it toward my core, smoothing the edges, dulling the resonance the contract created within me. The "glow" Sui had complained about slowly faded into something quiet. Contained.
Exhausting.
But effective.
I was finally learning how to look as ordinary as my F-Rank badge suggested.
[Master is getting boring,] Sui's voice vibrated in my mind. She was currently perched on the windowsill, camouflaged as a translucent blue glass paperweight. [Your light is all tucked away. It's like looking at a cold coal.]
'That's the point, Sui,' I thought, standing up and stretching my stiff limbs. 'Cold coals don't attract sensors.'
Stepping out into the streets of Dustford felt different than it had those first few days. The city had stopped being a map of potential threats and had started being a neighborhood.
"Morning, Rio! Back from the woods already?"
I turned to see Old Man Hobb, the grocer, hauling a crate of sun-faded apples.
"Not yet, Hobb. Just getting some air before the heat hits," I called back with a wave.
"Well, stop by later. I've got some bruised peaches I can't sell. They're free if you take 'em off my hands!"
I nodded, continuing my walk. I passed the blacksmith's forge, where the rhythmic clink-clank of the hammer served as the city's heartbeat. The smith, a burly man named Garret who had once suspiciously eyed my "dense mana," now just grunted a greeting as I passed.
It was a slow life. A quiet life. Since that first goblin quest, we had been careful. We spent our days taking low-risk gathering quests—picking Silverleaf herbs or tracking stray livestock. It was "boring" work for an S-rank soul and an Earth-specialist, but it was the only way to let the Guild's suspicion die down.
We were becoming "the reliable rookies."
And in the world of adventurers, "reliable" was synonymous with "uninteresting."
I was heading toward the central fountain to fill our water skins when I saw a familiar flash of blonde hair and a sturdy wooden staff.
Tess was coming from the apothecary, a small satchel of bandages slung over her shoulder. She looked different in the morning light—less like a guarded royal and more like a girl finally finding her footing. She was wearing her commoner's tunic, her sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that were becoming lean from weeks of work.
We bumped into each other near the flower stalls, nearly knocking over a vase of marigolds.
"Whoa, watch it," she laughed, steadying herself. Her eyes met mine, and for a second, the bustling market seemed to mute itself. "Oh, it's just you. I thought the grocer was finally making a move on the competition."
"I'm much more graceful than a grocer," I teased, taking the heavy satchel from her. "Heading back to the Spigot?"
"Actually," Tess said, pausing to look at a stall selling honey-glazed skewers. "I'm starving. And we actually have a surplus of silver this week."
I looked at her, then at the market.
We had been engaged since we were children—since that day I was ten and she was nine and our fathers decided our futures over tea. We were a "couple" by every legal definition in the Kingdom.
But we had never done anything… normal.
"Tess," I said, catching her off guard. "Have you ever had a proper date?"
She blinked, her face turning a shade of pink that rivaled the marigolds. "A what? Rio, we spent our childhood in lessons and the last month running from mages or cutting ears off goblins. When exactly would I have had time for a 'date'?"
"Fair point. But we have four hours before the Guild posts the afternoon board. No Sui. No monsters. Just… us."
She hesitated, then let out a long, soft breath. "Okay. But if you try to make it sentimental, I'm using Earth Grasp to bury your shoes in the mud."
"Deal."
We started with the skewers. Sticky. Overly sweet. Probably questionable meat. Tess ate hers like it was a royal rebellion.
"This," she mumbled through a mouthful of honey-glaze, "is infinitely better than palace food."
We wandered like tourists. The weaver's street. The docks. The river.
For once, we didn't talk about the King.Or power ratios.Or the contract.
Just small things.
As the sun dipped, gold spilling across the water, the silence between us felt easy.
"Rio," she said softly, leaning her shoulder against mine. "Do you think we can keep this? The 'normal' part?"
I glanced at my hand.
The contract mark was there—hidden beneath layers of compressed mana, restrained exactly the way Aurelia had trained me to do.
"I don't know," I admitted. "But as long as I'm the one holding it steady… I'll make sure you have room to breathe."
She didn't answer with words.
Her pinky hooked around mine.
Small.
Almost invisible.
More binding than any royal decree.
When we returned, the common room was roaring. We slipped upstairs quietly.
I pushed open the door—
—and a blue blur launched at my face.
[MASTER! YOU WERE GONE FOR SO LONG!]
Sui landed on me, cold and jiggly.
"Ugh, Sui, get off," I laughed.
Tess dropped her staff beside her bed. "She's been eating the dust bunnies again, hasn't she?"
[The floor-fuzz is delicious,] Sui vibrated happily. [But the room is boring without Master and the Secondary Unit. Did you bring back any 'skewers'? I smelled them from the window.]
I pulled a small leaf-wrapped piece of glazed meat from my pocket.
Sui engulfed it instantly, turning neon yellow.
As Tess lay down and Sui bounced around the room, the chaos of the world felt distant.
The contract was still there.
Silent.
Waiting.
But tonight—
It didn't feel overwhelming.
Aurelia had taught me how to carry power without letting it define me.
And for the first time—
It felt like we weren't just surviving.
We were living.
"Goodnight, Rio," Tess whispered.
"Goodnight, Tess."
I sat by the window, watching the stars.
The contract remained.
But the weight felt lighter.
And that was enough.