Riku and Sherry slowly started flying downwards.
They descended from the cold, thin air of the mountain peaks into the shadowy valley. The ambient purple glow from the city’s runes grew stronger, casting their faces in an ethereal light.
"It’s... huge. I never expected a vassal state to be so big." Sherry murmured, her now slightly excited at being back in her ho empire once more.
"Well, it is ti to go in. Are you ready?" Riku asked gently.
She gave a single, sharp nod. She still had bad mories of this empire, but her resolve was a shield against it. She would not falter. Not now.
They landed silently in a dark, narrow alleyway between two towering spires. The air here was cool and slled of damp stone and a strange, tallic tang—the scent of raw, ambient magic.
Riku let the flight spell dissipate. "We can’t walk around like this," he stated. "You, especially. If soone from Nocturne is here..."
Sherry understood. She was a fugitive, a traitor’s daughter. Recognition would an all sorts of trouble both for her and Riku.
"What should we look like?" Riku asked, turning to her. "What’s a common sight here? What kind of disguise would let us blend in?"
Sherry pulled him to the edge of the alley, pointing out into the bustling, shadowy street. Her expression turned serious, professional.
"Look," she whispered, indicating a man in simple dark robes with a glowing focus crystal on his belt. "That’s a Shadow-weaver. They deal in illusion and subtlety. Their magic is quiet, their presence unassuming. Often marked by a small runic tattoo."
Her finger then shifted to a heavily armored figure directing a reanimated skeletal worker. "And him? The one who looks like he eats iron for breakfast? That’s a Battle-mage. All brute force and flashy spells. They are the muscle, the enforcers. Practical armor, no-nonsense."
She turned back to him. "If we want to avoid attention, those are our best options. A brutish battle-mage and a quiet shadow-weaver. No one gives them a second look."
Riku nodded, processing the information. "Alright. A battle-mage and a shadow-weaver it is."
He focused. "I can help with that."
Disguise. [-30 Goodwill Points]
A shimr of dark energy enveloped them both. Riku’s simple robes shifted, taking on the appearance of the dark, practical attire Sherry described, complete with leather straps and dull iron pauldrons. His features hardened slightly, becoming more angular and severe.
The magic settled on Sherry. The line of her jaw softened almost imperceptibly, and her mouth curved into a subtle, almost mischievous pout. A faint, illusory runic tattoo, like a stylized wisp of shadow, blood on her cheek. The change was subtle, but it made her look undeniably... cuter.
Riku turned to look at her, and paused. His eyes lingered for a mont on the new curve of her lips, the faint glimr of the phantom tattoo. A faint warmth rushed to his cheeks, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat.
Sherry caught it all. A slow, triumphant smirk spread across her face.
"What’s wrong?" she purred, her voice dripping with mock innocence. "Cat got the tough guy’s tongue?"
Riku glanced back, his usual composure slightly ruffled. "What are you talking about?"
"You," she said, taking a step closer and poking him lightly in the chest. "All that scowling armor... and you’re flustered." She laughed, a soft, musical sound. "To think a stern-looking Battle-mage could be so easily bewitched by a simple Shadow-weaver’s new face."
Riku let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he regained his composure. "Just admiring the... craftsmanship," he deflected smoothly. "The spellwork is very detailed."
"Of course it is," Sherry said, turning away with a flick of her dark robes. "Now, enough admiring my face. We have a rchant to find."
Riku chuckled, the brief mont of levity clearing so of the tension. "Right. For Rennan."
He closed his eyes, focusing his senses. Once again, he started searching for his own magic.
"This way," he said, opening his eyes. "The trail is weak, but it’s there."
They stepped out of the alley and into the streets of Dreadspire.
As they walked, a voice echoed in Riku’s mind, gentle but carrying an undeniable weight. It was Clara.
"Riku," she began. "A mont, if I may?"
Riku kept his outward expression neutral. "Of course, Lady Clara. What is it?"
Clara had always been with him. She was the only person apart from Arnold and Lila who knew his secret, but Riku did not mind. He still had to find her husband, Marden Robinson, to complete the system’s quest.
Though Riku was 95% sure that the hooded man was Marden himself, he did not rule out the possibility of being mistaken. That is why he kept Clara with him, in case he needed her as the key to reach Marden.
However, it was strange for Clara to speak out. She had been pretty quiet ever since she had realized so of the truths surrounding Riku.
"You are a kind young man," Clara started, her ntal voice tinged with a mother’s care. "You offer hope where there is none. I have seen how the young girls like Lila, Lysaria, and even that Archon Seraphina look at you. And just now... I see the sparks between you and young Sherry."
There was a brief pause.
"It is not my place to judge," Clara continued, her tone chiding. "But my Elara... I hope that you can make her your wife sooner, you know. It would be bad if she were the 4th or 5th wife. I understand that she t you late...."
"What are you talking about, Lady Clara?!"
Riku’s face turned slightly red. He was not used to being asked on this matter directly.
"I only ask that you be mindful, Riku. A man of your power and character draws people to him like moths to a fla. It is a wonderful gift, but it can also burn those who get too close without aning to."
Riku remained silent. He understood her concern. He even acknowledged the grain of truth in it.
"I... I promise. I will make sure not to hurt any of them. But I cannot let go of them either...." Riku hesitated, unsure of what to say.
"Not letting go is enough... Hehe. But do not forget my Elara’s position. Young man. I have high hopes for you."
"Lady Clara!!"
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