Liora returned to the cracked stone steps like gravity belonged to her and not the world. The slums adjusted around her presence the way weary places do when someone reliable comes back.
People didn't crowd her.
They didn't worship.
They trusted.
Aiden watched while Senior remained beside him, dignified posture somehow turning this battered street into a throne room.
"What do I do?" Aiden whispered.
Senior smiled with irritating serenity.
"Observe. Learn. Resist your instinct to solve something catastrophically."
Aiden nodded.
Then immediately nearly stepped forward anyway.
He caught himself.
Progress.
The first person was an older man whose hands shook.
"My boy… he works… but hunger is faster than pride. If I stop working to help, we starve. If I keep working, I lose him."
There it was.
The ache.
Not divine.
Not magical.
Human.
Liora took his hands gently.
"Do you want him to eat," she asked softly, "or do you want him to live?"
The man cried.
Because those weren't the same thing here.
"I want him to live," he whispered.
Reality didn't bend.
It softened.
Something small aligned. A neighbor would remember kindness. Work would shift. A quiet miracle disguised itself as logistics.
The man left lighter.
Senior nodded.
"That," he murmured, "is dangerous work done correctly."
Next came a child.
"I wanna laugh again… without feeling scared of it going away."
Liora closed her eyes.
"I want that too."
And the world… listened.
Air loosened.
Hearts warmed.
Someone three streets away failed to stay angry.
Someone remembered joy.
Aiden grinned helplessly.
Senior dabbed his eye discreetly.
"Simple wishes," the fae whispered, "are the hardest. They require… care."
Hours passed.
Wishes came.
Wishes refused.
Wishes shaped gently.
"I want revenge."
"No."
"I want power."
"No."
"I want to stop hurting."
"Yes. Let's start there."
Aiden finally exhaled when the crowd dwindled.
"I'm nowhere near your level," he admitted.
Liora smiled.
"You're earlier. Not lesser. Just earlier."
Senior clapped lightly.
"Emotional intelligence! I am so proud. You have no idea how few reality-benders attempt that before catastrophe."
Aiden scowled.
Liora laughed.
They sat awhile.
Three strange lives fitting into the same quiet.
Then Senior softly inhaled.
"Well," he murmured, "the Void will like this. Or Desire will gloat. Hard to say which is worse."
Aiden blinked.
"…The what?"
Liora frowned.
"Sorry—who?"
Senior smiled pleasantly.
"If either notices, life becomes fascinating. Probably survivable. You'll manage."
"That explains nothing," Aiden muttered.
"Indeed," Senior said happily. "You're learning."
They groaned together.
He looked pleased.
They stayed there longer.
Talking.
Existing.
Not alone.
Later That Night
They'd walked Liora safely home.
She'd vanished behind a worn doorway.
The slums breathed quieter.
Aiden and Senior stood on a rooftop overlooking shaky rooftops and tired lanterns.
The city above glittered.
The slums below endured.
Aiden finally asked:
"What is the Void? Or… Desire. Really."
Senior went very still.
Not shocked.
Not reluctant.
Careful.
He leaned on his cane.
"Mm. You're doing that inconvenient thing again."
"What thing?"
"Growing."
Aiden waited.
Senior almost spoke.
You could feel it.
That moment where truth hovered.
Where a mentor could change everything with a word.
Wind touched his hair.
The world held breath.
Then Senior smiled softly.
"No."
Aiden stared.
"…No?"
"No," Senior repeated kindly. "You are not ready for answers that only create new questions. Answers become cages when given too early. And ironically—"
He tapped Aiden's chest.
"You are healthier uncontained."
Aiden deflated.
"…So you're not going to tell me."
"I am absolutely going to tell you."
Aiden brightened.
"When?"
Senior patted his shoulder.
"When it is dramatically appropriate and emotionally devastating."
Aiden choked.
"That is NOT comforting."
Senior smiled warmly.
"Good. You're learning how this works."
They stood quietly.
The slums breathed.
The city hummed.
Somewhere, a child laughed in her sleep.
Aiden sighed.
"…Thank you. Even if you're infuriating."
Senior's eyes softened.
"My boy… if I could spare you from ever needing to know, I would."
A pause.
"But you will need to. One day."
Aiden nodded.
He didn't understand.
But he understood enough.
They left the rooftop.
Not wiser.
Not safer.
But steadier.
Elsewhere…
Seris Valen stood before the Council again.
Sharper file.
Sharper tone.
Sharper determination.
"This district is experiencing statistically impossible relief," she stated. "No divine trace. No arcane signature. Probability itself is behaving… helpfully."
An official smiled politely.
"So miracles."
"No," Seris replied flatly. "Miracles leave fingerprints. This doesn't. This feels like the world occasionally deciding to be kind."
They didn't like that answer.
Her permissions tightened.
Her leash shortened.
Her responsibility grew.
She bowed.
She left.
And whispered to the wind:
"…Fine. If I can't be sanctioned right… I'll just be right."
And someone, somewhere,
heard her determination.
The city shifted,
not enough to notice.
But enough to matter.
Back in the Slums
Liora slept.
Aiden learned.
Senior watched.
The universe pretended calm.
The Void did absolutely nothing.
Desire smiled.
Two wish granters now breathed in the same city.
And hope had structure.
The story?
Just getting dangerous.
And beautiful.