They didn't argue.
They didn't hesitate.
The instant the wrongness in the air sharpened from unease into intent—cold, patient, and coming—they moved.
Liora already had her small satchel over her shoulder, hands steady from practice rather than calm. Aiden followed because thinking meant losing ground. Senior stepped lightly after them, cane tapping softly like punctuation against danger.
They cut through cramped alleyways and half-forgotten walk paths. The city proper was neatly arranged streets and predictable order. The slums were veins and nerves and instinct.
Aiden glanced back.
Nothing there.
Which meant everything was.
"Don't look behind you," Liora said gently. "They want you to."
"So you've… done this before," Aiden breathed.
She hesitated.
"Yes."
Then softer.
"Just not when it mattered this much."
He didn't ask what that meant.
He didn't need to.
They crossed a broken courtyard that smelled faintly like rain that never actually reached the ground. Aiden leaned closer as they moved.
"Where are we even going?"
"Anywhere they wouldn't risk making a mess," she replied. "Which means… nowhere crowded, nowhere loud, nowhere important. Because power doesn't like guilt."
Senior hummed softly, almost approving.
"They are dangerous, then."
"Professional," Liora corrected. "Which is worse."
The air tightened.
Not magic.
Not divine.
Purpose.
That made Senior finally speak, voice stripped of playful lace and resting somewhere near solemn.
"You both need to listen carefully."
They did.
"Wish granters," he continued, "should not fight."
Aiden almost laughed.
"That would be much easier to appreciate in a moment where fighting wasn't an option on the table!"
"Then understand why," Senior replied calmly. "When you strike someone with your fist, the consequence strikes you. Simple. Contained. Personal."
He tapped his cane against a wall as they turned, sound sharp in the quiet.
"When a wish granter strikes… the universe refuses to keep the cost simple. A wish is never paid only by the one who made it."
Aiden's stomach tightened.
"…Meaning?"
"Meaning," Senior said, "that if you weaponize your nature, reality will search for nearby balance. Innocents. Bystanders. The world around you may bleed because you decided not to."
Liora closed her eyes briefly.
"That's why I never—"
"I know," Senior said softly. "That is why I respect you."
Bootsteps sounded faintly now.
Closer.
Measured.
Patient.
Predators, not thugs.
"The universe," Senior continued, "permits self-defense. It allows it because existence prefers that its caretakers not die. But it demands restraint. Survival, not domination. Escape, not triumph."
"So if we go beyond that…?" Aiden asked quietly.
Senior's gaze hardened just a little.
"Reality will correct you. Brutally."
They kept running.
Until suddenly…
They didn't.
Liora slowed, breath steady but thoughtful, eyes scanning angles and pathways, feeling the air the way prey eventually learns to read its hunter.
Aiden only noticed when he took two more steps and realized the others weren't beside him.
He turned back.
She wasn't staring at danger.
She was listening to it.
"This isn't the first time people have tried to take me," she admitted softly. "When you live in a place like this… power people don't understand becomes something other people want to own."
Aiden clenched his jaw.
"But this," she continued, "is the first time they brought enough force that I don't think they're leaving without someone."
Senior's pleasantness faded entirely now.
"An irritation," he murmured. "And a complication."
Her lips tightened.
"Yes."
They shared a look.
Not panic.
Understanding.
"So we keep running smarter," Aiden said.
She smiled faintly.
"That's the right answer."
Senior rested his cane lightly against the ground.
"One final note, dear students. If they force your hand—wish small. Wish gently. Wish to protect, not to punish. Defense may wound less people. Offense… never does."
Aiden nodded.
"Okay."
Liora nodded too.
"Always."
Boots now.
Close.
Voices.
Quiet.
Reasonable.
Which meant dangerous.
They moved again.
Not heroic.
Not glorious.
Necessary.
And somewhere behind them…
Hunters found the trail.
And the universe,
watching carefully,
made room for whatever consequences it was about to permit.