Audree didn’t want to go hunting for Velra. Her mother had tried, but it seemed the woman was nowhere to be found. She showed up when she wanted, disappeared when she wanted, and apparently traveled by turning into a puddle of blood like it was a normal mode of transportation.

  Still, Haldo had been clear.

  If you want basic combat, go find Miss Runeswell.

  So Audree did what he always did when the world got too complicated.

  He followed clues.

  Or, more accurately, he followed the nearest thing that looked like a pattern.

  He moved through Embershade like a shadow, avoiding the wider roads where the miners lingered and the occasional knight patrol passed through. He kept his arm wrapped tight, fingers always drifting to the bandage whenever he got nervous. It was his new habit now that his bracelet was gone.

  His path took him toward the older part of town, where broken mills sat hunched and abandoned like dead beasts. One of them, half-collapsed and leaning, had always been off-limits in that unspoken way. People didn’t go there because it wasn’t useful, and because old places attracted rumors.

  Audree stepped inside anyway.

  The air smelled like damp wood and iron rot. Light fell through broken planks in thin spears, turning floating dust into drifting sparks. The floorboards creaked beneath his weight, but the building held.

  He scanned the walls, expecting nothing.

  Then he saw it.

  A section of the inner beamwork had been carved. Not crudely like graffiti, but neatly. Intentionally. The markings were faint, almost hidden beneath soot and age.

  Runes.

  Audree’s heart thumped once, hard.

  “What…?”

  He crouched near the carvings and brushed away grime with his sleeve. The runes were old, but not ruined. They weren’t standard spell circles like he’d drawn before, either. They were arranged like a problem.

  A puzzle.

  Audree squinted, reading the shapes the way Haldo’s notes had taught him to read meaning rather than just symbol. There was an order to it. A rhythm.

  The runes didn’t say open.

  They said something closer to:

  IF YOU UNDERSTAND, YOU MAY PASS.

  IF YOU FORCE IT, YOU WILL BLEED.

  Audree swallowed. “That’s… dramatic.”

  Bubbles peeked out of his bag as if to judge the situation.

  Audree ignored him and focused.

  A set of three runes repeated around the beam like a lock mechanism. One was associated with blood, one with motion, and one with containment. The trick wasn’t to power them. It was to arrange their sequence correctly, like rotating a dial on a safe.

  He shifted his hand along the beam, searching for the start. He found a faint notch, almost invisible unless you were looking for it.

  Audree exhaled slowly.

  “Okay. If I were a dramatic blood mage hiding in a mill, what would I do?”

  He traced the first rune, then the second, then paused.

  Too obvious.

  He reversed it.

  The moment his finger completed the correct pattern, the runes flashed once. A dull red pulse slid into the wood like sinking embers.

  The mill groaned.

  Not collapsing. Not breaking.

  Opening.

  A seam appeared in the wall that hadn’t been there a second ago. Wood shifted aside without sound, revealing a narrow passage lined in metal and faint red glow.

  Audree stared.

  He hadn’t expected that to work.

  He definitely hadn’t expected there to be a secret door.

  “…Huh.”

  Bubbles wobbled, pleased with himself, as if he had solved it.

  Audree pushed into the passage.

  The air changed immediately. Warmer. Heavier. Faintly metallic. The corridor wasn’t long. It curved once and ended at a circular metal hatch covered in layered sigils. Unlike the mill runes, these were clean and maintained. Recent.

  A soft voice drifted through the other side.

  “You have got to be kidding me.”

  Audree froze. “Velra?”

  The hatch slid open on its own with a hiss, and there she stood.

  Velra Runeswell looked exactly like trouble.

  Today she wore dark red travel robes, layered and practical, with a belt full of odd tools. Her hat was nowhere to be seen, but her staff leaned nearby, its orb swirling with that familiar red liquid.

  Behind her, Audree saw what looked like a house.

  No. Not a house.

  A packed-up home, folded into itself like a traveling crate. Walls stacked tightly. Furniture strapped into place. Curtains tied down. A whole living space reduced into a compact, mobile construct, humming softly as if it breathed.

  Velra stared at him like he’d insulted her ancestry.

  “How,” she said slowly, “did you get in here.”

  Audree lifted both hands. “It was an accident.”

  Velra squinted at him. “That’s worse.”

  Audree gestured weakly toward the runes behind him. “It was a rune puzzle. I… I solved it.”

  Velra made a noise of pure disbelief and pinched the bridge of her nose.

  “I’m going to have to make that harder,” she muttered. “If even a manaless mage can solve it, it’s basically an invitation.”

  Audree frowned. “Manaless mage is still a mage.”

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  Velra looked up sharply, then waved a hand like she was brushing the comment away.

  “Ugh. Don’t get smug. Get inside before someone sees you.”

  Audree hesitated. “Someone?”

  Velra’s expression flattened as she stepped aside, letting him enter. “Knights. Nosy locals. Anyone with the sense to follow blood-scented magic trails. Take your pick.”

  Audree stepped into the compact space and blinked.

  It was oddly cozy. Everything was tightly arranged, but functional. A small table. A shelf of bottles. Bedrolls strapped to the wall. It felt like Velra had taken a real home and forced it into portability through sheer stubbornness.

  Velra shut the hatch behind him.

  “You really did cause a mess,” she said, already pacing. “I came here originally to heal you, catch up with Ina and Norra, and talk to that old man.” She shot him a pointed look. “Then weird events start happening. Strange occurrences. A magic beacon. Town rumors. Knights sniffing around. And now I’m having to hide.”

  Audree bristled. “I’m hiding too.”

  Velra paused, eyebrows rising. “Oh?”

  “Miners jumped me,” Audree said flatly. “Knights are patrolling. Everyone’s acting like my family is some cult. Merrin won’t even open his shop door because he’s being inspected.”

  Velra’s mouth twisted. “Right. And somehow it all circles back to you.”

  Audree’s glare sharpened. “Don’t blame me like I asked for any of that.”

  Velra held his stare for a moment, then sighed like she’d decided not to fight that battle.

  “Fine,” she said. “You didn’t ask for it. But you’re still the spark. That’s just reality.”

  Audree opened his mouth, then closed it. He hated that she wasn’t wrong.

  Velra leaned her hip against the table and studied him. “Why don’t you just go somewhere more mana-dense? Somewhere normal for magic? You’d stand out less. If anything, you’d thrive.”

  Audree looked down at his wrapped arm.

  The idea wasn’t new. It had floated through his head before. Brief. Tempting. Impossible.

  But the moment he imagined it, his stomach twisted.

  A mana-dense zone meant his arm would drink and drink until it swallowed something it couldn’t hold. He had barely survived Embershade’s trickle of magic. In a place where mana flowed naturally, he’d be a walking bomb.

  And even if he wasn’t, there were too many problems here. His family’s reputation. The knights. The woods. The disappearances. The feeling that something had been rotting under Embershade long before he ever started experimenting.

  He had no plan. No place to go. No idea what thriving even looked like.

  Velra watched his expression shift and smirked. “That’s a lot of thinking for a simple suggestion.”

  Audree exhaled. “I have things I need to do here.”

  Velra hummed. “Mm. Of course you do.”

  Then she tilted her head.

  “So,” she said, voice turning sharper and more direct, “why are you actually here, Audree?”

  Audree straightened.

  He had come for a reason.

  “I need combat training.”

  Velra blinked.

  Then her mouth opened slightly in surprise.

  “…Combat training,” she repeated, like tasting the words.

  Audree nodded. “I got jumped. I was useless.”

  Velra stared at him for a long moment, then her gaze flicked to his bandaged arm and she made a sound like she was trying not to laugh.

  “Why,” she said slowly, “don’t you learn from Ina?”

  The words were out before she could stop them.

  Velra’s eyes widened. She slapped a hand over her own mouth like she’d just committed a crime.

  Audree’s expression didn’t change. He just sighed, long and tired.

  “I already know about Ina’s mercenary thing,” he muttered.

  Velra lowered her hand, looking embarrassed for about half a second before her usual smugness returned.

  “Mercenary thing,” she echoed, dragging out the phrase with a grin. “Riiiiiight…”

  Audree glared at her.

  Velra’s grin lingered for a second, sharp and amused, then she leaned back against one of the strapped-down shelves like this was all entertainment.

  Audree didn’t laugh.

  “I’m serious,” he said. “I need to learn how to not get flattened.”

  Velra studied him, then flicked her gaze to his wrapped arm. “Mm. Then we start with a question.”

  Audree frowned. “What question?”

  Velra tapped her staff lightly against the floor. “What kind of combat do you think you’re asking for?”

  Audree blinked. “Combat. Like… fighting.”

  Velra’s expression turned patient in the way a tutor looked at a child who’d just confidently stated the wrong answer.

  “There’s survival combat,” she said, counting on her fingers, “and there’s mage combat. They overlap, but they’re not the same beast.”

  Audree’s jaw tightened. “I need both.”

  Velra snorted. “Of course you do.”

  She pushed off the shelf and paced, the cramped space somehow still feeling like she owned it.

  “Survival combat is what your mother Ina used to do,” Velra said casually, then paused as if remembering Audree’s glare from earlier. “Used to. It’s practical. Ugly. It assumes you’re outnumbered, tired, and bleeding before the fight even begins. You fight to leave alive. No honor. No clean rules.”

  Audree’s stomach turned slightly at how easily she said it.

  “Mage combat,” Velra continued, “is a different kind of discipline. Positioning matters. Mana control matters. Timing matters. Your keyword matters. A mage fight is half spellcraft and half psychology. Breaking rhythm. Forcing mistakes. Controlling the field.”

  Audree thought of Haldo’s hands. Thought of the way the old man made reality feel rearranged.

  He swallowed. “And you can teach that?”

  Velra tilted her head. “Some of it.”

  Audree narrowed his eyes. “Only some?”

  Velra smiled like that was the funniest thing he’d said all day. “Audree, you’re a walking contradiction with an arm that eats magic. I can teach you fundamentals, not fix your entire existence.”

  He made a sound of annoyance. Velra ignored it.

  “You asked why Haldo won’t teach you,” she said. “He’s right to refuse. His combat is specialized to him. If you try copying someone else’s style without the same instincts and foundation, you die faster. You’ll hesitate when it matters.”

  Audree’s shoulders tensed. “Then teach me foundations.”

  Velra’s gaze sharpened. She seemed pleased by that wording.

  “Now we’re speaking the same language,” she said.

  Audree hesitated, then reached into his bag.

  “There’s something else,” he said.

  Velra’s eyes flicked to the bag like she expected a bomb.

  Instead, Audree pulled out the rolled painting and carefully unwrapped it.

  Velra’s expression changed immediately.

  Not shock.

  Recognition.

  “Yeah,” she said quietly. “That’s Ina.”

  Audree watched her face like he was trying to read a hidden page. “You knew her like that?”

  Velra gave him a sideways look. “I’ve wandered half the map healing people, boy. You collect stories whether you want them or not.”

  She crouched slightly to look closer at the painting. Her fingers hovered near the canvas but didn’t touch.

  “At the time,” Velra said, voice a little distant, “I was traveling with a party. Hired work. Monster work. The usual. Ina was in it. And…” She paused. “…another woman.”

  Audree’s pulse ticked faster. “The mage in the painting.”

  Velra’s mouth tightened.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “Her.”

  Audree swallowed. “That’s one of Haldo’s students, right?”

  Velra let out a dry laugh. “So he finally mentioned her.”

  “He brought it up,” Audree said. “But he wasn’t clear.”

  Velra straightened, crossing her arms. “Haldo is never clear. He speaks in half-statements and smug silences. It’s his favorite hobby.”

  Audree almost smiled at that. Almost.

  Velra looked back down at the painted mage. Her eyes narrowed.

  “Yes,” she said. “That woman was one of his students. Brilliant, technically. Ambitious. And…” Velra’s voice dipped. “…unsettling.”

  Audree frowned. “Unsettling how?”

  Velra tapped the side of her staff once, thinking.

  “The way her magic worked,” she said carefully, “was the kind that makes you feel like you’re being watched from inside your own skin. Useful. Powerful. But it never felt clean.”

  Audree’s grip tightened on the painting. “Did you and her get along?”

  Velra scoffed. “No.”

  The answer came too fast to be anything but truth.

  “We worked together,” Velra continued, “because sometimes you don’t get to choose your company. But get along? No. She had this way of looking at people like they were components.”

  Audree flinched. That word hit too close to home.

  Velra’s eyes flicked to him, catching the reaction, and she softened her tone slightly.

  “Ina didn’t like her much either,” Velra added. “Not in the long run.”

  Audree stared at the painting again. Ina holding that severed head like it weighed nothing. His mother had looked fearless.

  She had looked like someone who lived in a different world than Embershade.

  He rolled the painting back up slowly, then hesitated.

  “And Norra?” he asked. “Did you know her back then too?”

  “I know Ina,” Velra said carefully. “I did not know Norra back then.”

  Audree’s stomach sank slightly. That confirmed what Norra had implied. Some parts of their past weren’t just secret. Some were separate, compartmentalized, locked away.

  Velra watched him think and made a small noise of sympathy, then waved it off like she refused to be too gentle.

  “Anyways,” she said, brisk again, “if you want training, we do it properly. No heroic nonsense. No charging into the woods to prove a point.”

  Audree’s jaw clenched. “About the woods—”

  Velra raised a hand. “No.”

  Audree blinked. “No?”

  “I’m not getting directly involved with whatever is happening in that forest,” Velra said flatly.

  Audree’s frustration flared. “Are you scared of it or—”

  Velra’s eyes snapped to him, sharp enough that he shut up mid-sentence.

  “Not fear,” she said. “Curiosity.”

  Audree frowned, confused. “Curiosity?”

  Velra leaned closer, smile thin.

  “I want to see how events unfold,” she said. “Because something is moving here. Something interesting. And when you interfere too early, you ruin the pattern.”

  Audree stared at her. “People are going missing.”

  Velra’s expression didn’t soften, but her voice lowered, more serious.

  “And I’m not saying it doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m saying I’m not stepping into it yet. Not unless it spills into my hands. Not unless it drags me into the story.”

  Audree didn’t like that. He didn’t like how calm she was about it.

  Velra straightened again, tapping her staff lightly like she was ending the topic.

  “You want training,” she said. “I’ll give you training. Survival basics first. Then mage discipline. Then, if you don’t explode or get arrested, we’ll see what you’re capable of.”

  Audree exhaled through his nose.

  “Fine,” he muttered. “When do we start?”

  Velra’s smile returned. Bright. Dangerous.

  “Now,” she said.

  And Audree had the sudden sinking feeling that he’d just agreed to something that would hurt worse than getting punched by a miner.