It took longer than I expected to reach the border. We didn’t travel on foot the whole way—thankfully—but the start of our journey through the woods near Grandmama’s cottage was quiet and tense. The night was moonless, and Alessio led us with careful precision, never straying from the deer trails he seed to know by heart.
I kept glancing down at the ring Grandmama had given . It was elegant in a way I wasn’t—a silver band with an athyst stone, glinting faintly in the dark. A glamour artifact, Alessio said. Sa kind he wore to change his appearance. Only... it didn’t seem to work on .
"Nothing’s happening," I whispered, holding my hand up as we walked. "Shouldn’t I look... blurrier? Less like a wanted fugitive with unusually pink hair?"
Alessio glanced at , his voice low but steady. "Artifacts like this one don’t work like makeup or cloaks. They don’t transform you. They manipulate perception. And they respond to magical receptivity."
"Which I clearly don’t have," I muttered.
"You’re not without magic. You’re negating it. Constantly. Nullifiers don’t turn off magic the way a lamp goes out—they cancel it like a wall blocking sound. The trick is letting certain things pass through."
I gave him a skeptical look. "You want to... negotiate with my magic allergy?"
He exhaled faintly. "Try this. Focus on the ring itself. Not what you want it to do, but on allowing it to do what it’s designed for. Imagine you’re relaxing a part of yourself—your hold over magic—just around the ring."
We slowed to a stop, and I closed my eyes, picturing it: the ring glowing faintly, undisturbed by my presence. Like it belonged there.
After a few seconds, Alessio nodded. "There. That’s it."
I blinked. "Wait. Did it work?"
He gave a single nod. "Your hair looks dark blue now. Eyes too. It’s subtle, but it’s holding. You’re starting to focus your nullification instead of letting it blanket everything."
"I’m a walking magic sink with selective holes," I muttered. "Impressive."
He chuckled. "It’s a start."
We reached the edges of llerfen near dawn. Though still within the Empire, the town sat beyond Wittelsbach’s jurisdiction, and it was far enough from the capital that central law was looser here—if not in writing, then in practice. There were border checks along the roads, but Alessio had planned for that.
At a stable just outside a sleepy farming village, we t a man with weather-worn gloves and a thick Yelvanti accent who handed us off to a young driver. The wagon was simple—a covered cart with space for a few travelers and crates of goods bound for the eastern towns near llerfen.
Inside, Alessio sat beside , arms crossed loosely, while I kept my hood low and tried not to fidget.
"We’ll be across the checkpoint in fifteen minutes," he murmured. "The guards were already lured west. Only a skeleton crew will be here, and they won’t be alert. Still, don’t speak unless necessary. Let do the talking."
I nodded.
He glanced at again. "You’re doing well, by the way. Most people in your position would be panicking."
"Who says I’m not?" I said under my breath.
At the checkpoint, the guard gave our cart only a cursory glance. Alessio handed him a folded slip of parchnt, and after a few sleepy questions and a nod toward the crates of dried grain, we were waved through. No alarms. No sudden yells. Just the soft creak of wooden wheels resuming their path.
I didn’t exhale until the town faded behind us and the hills ahead turned green with sumr light.
"We’re out of Wittelsbach’s reach now," Alessio said. "llerfen will give us so breathing room."
We didn’t stop until we reached a coastal hamlet by midday. The scent of sea salt was sharp on the wind. Alessio led us toward a secluded dock where a caravel waited—sleek and sturdy, with dark wood hulls and twin triangular sails. A man leaned casually against one of the mooring posts.
He had tanned skin, sharp cheekbones, and a scar that curved just past his right eye. His hair was black, tied back loosely, and his eyes—also black—seed to study the mont we approached.
"Khan," Alessio greeted him.
"Your High—Sir Slovene," the man said with a grin, pushing off from the post. "You’re late."
Alessio raised an eyebrow. "We weren’t followed."
"That’s what matters," Khan said, then turned to . "And you must be the one he won’t stop talking about."
Alessio coughed. "That’s not—"
Khan ignored him, offering a hand. "I’m Khan. I’ll be helping you disappear, Lady Sonia."
His grip was warm and confident. His smile? Bordering on smug.
"You seem awfully sure I want to disappear," I said.
He tilted his head. "You’d be the first fugitive not to."
I raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you qualified to help?"
"Let’s just say I’m good at slipping through cracks. Especially the ones the Empire likes to pretend don’t exist."
He winked, and I heard the subtle inhale Alessio didn’t an to make. When I glanced at him, he was staring off toward the waves.
Later, once the caravel pulled away from the dock and the coastline began to fade, Alessio joined at the prow.
"I’ve been tracking Marius for three years," he said quietly. "And most of what I found is circumstantial. Disappearances. Unusual funding streams. Witnesses who forget things shortly after speaking to him."
"Forget how?" I asked. "Spellwork?"
He shook his head. "Not officially. mory magic’s tightly restricted—only licensed magicians under Council oversight can perform it. But there’s a substance called velis-draught. Rare. Alchemical. Not magic, but it can fog mory like a veil pulled over the mind."
Sothing fluttered at the edge of my awareness. That sa weightless, untethered feeling I sotis woke with, as if whole days had slipped between cracks.
"You think he used that on ?"
"It’s possible," Alessio said. "Especially since you said so of your mories feel incomplete. Fragnted."
I nodded. "Yeah. It’s like certain monts are just gone. I know sothing happened, I know I felt sothing—but when I try to rember, it’s like chasing smoke."
Alessio leaned in slightly. "Can you rember when it started to feel that way? When you think he might’ve used it?"
I hesitated. "The day before I woke up with the ankle shackle. We argued—I don’t rember what it was about exactly, but I rember I said I wanted to leave. I was turning away, maybe about to walk out, and then... he grabbed from behind. There was a cloth over my face. It slled—sharp, chemical. I blacked out."
Alessio’s expression hardened. "Velis-draught. It dulls the mind. Makes mories slip. Not magic, so it wouldn’t trigger your nullifying ability. It’s used in interrogations sotis. Or abductions."
"When I woke up," I said quietly, "I was already shackled. He didn’t even try to explain. Just acted like it had always been that way."
"He wouldn’t have used spells," Alessio said. "Only trained magicians can cast magic, and even nobles need permission from the Mage Tower. They track every use. He wouldn’t risk leaving traces. A sedative like that... it’s cleaner. Quieter."
I was taken aback by his statent.
’It all makes sense now. The biggest mystery I had about my mory has been brought to light. And the shocking truth about Sonia’s illness—caused by the nullify ability—was uncovered by chance.’
But so many questions still remained. I looked at Alessio, my face clearly betraying my curiosity.
Even so, I knew this wasn’t the right ti to ask.
I let out a quiet sigh and said, "There are so things I’ve been aning to ask. I’ll wait until we’re in Yelvanti."
To be continued
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