Vale lifted him with ease, settling him against her hip like a mother instinctively scooping up her three-year-old, as if it were second nature.
For a moment, her expression went soft again. Warm. Almost tender.
Then she caught herself and the knight's mask slammed back into place.
"You're very light," she muttered. "Do your parents feed you properly?"
Piers stared at her.
"Right. Not much of a talker. That's fine."
Milliana finished gathering the books and gave Piers' hair one last attempted braid. "There! Now you're even more adorable!"
Piers' hair stuck up at an odd angle. He looked ridiculous.
He didn't care.
[VOID CORRUPTION: 47%]
[STABLE]
[EMOTIONAL RESPONSES TODAY: 2]
[IRRITATION, MILD ANNOYANCE]
[ANALYSIS ONGOING]
The trio left the bookstore with humming happily, and Piers processing the strange new information his system had provided.
Emotions reduced corruption.
That was... unexpected.
And potentially useful.
He filed the information away for later analysis and turned his attention to the street outside.
Jenora bustled around them, still loud and chaotic and full of life.
Back at the clothing shop, Xylia stood frozen in the doorway, her mind refusing to process what had just happened.
One moment, her son had been right there. Right there. Holding her hand. Safe.
The next moment, he'd slipped away like water through her fingers and vanished into the crowded street.
"Ma'am?" The shopkeeper had come up behind her, concern evident in her voice. "Is everything alright?"
Xylia didn't answer. Couldn't answer.
Her breathing was getting faster. Shorter.
He's gone.
My baby is gone.
"I'm sure he didn't go far," the shopkeeper was saying, her tone soothing but distant, like she was speaking from the other end of a very long tunnel. "Children wander off all the time. The town guard can help—"
The town guard.
The words triggered something in Xylia's mind. Images flashing too fast to fully process:
Guards finding him. Questions being asked. People noticing the mana. Someone sensing what he was. Taking him. Studying him. Hurting him. Using him.
Her son in a cage.
Her son being cut open to see what made him special.
Her son—
"Ma'am, you're shaking—"
Xylia's hands were trembling. No. Not just her hands. Her whole body.
This is Jenora, the rational part of her mind whispered. A busy market town. Hundreds of people. Dozens of races. Anything could happen. Anyone could take him. He's small. Defenseless. Alone.
The word 'defenseless' was laughable, given what Piers actually was, but Xylia's panic wasn't listening to logic.
"I need—" Her voice came out strangled. "I need to find him. I need—"
She spun around and rushed out of the shop, frantically scanning the street outside. People everywhere. Too many people. Any one of them could have her son. Could be hurting him right now.
"Ma'am, please, you should sit down—"
"RIGAS!"
The scream tore itself from her throat before she could stop it. Raw. Desperate. The sound of a mother who'd lost her child in a crowd of strangers.
Several people on the street turned to look at her.
Xylia didn't care.
"RIGAS!" she screamed again, Her eyes darted everywhere—looking for golden-blonde hair, for small hands, for any sign of him.
Nothing.
He was gone.
The crowd seemed to press in on her, faces blurring together, voices becoming incomprehensible noise.
He's three years old, her mind whispered. Three years old and alone and you LET HIM GO—
"Ma'am?" Someone touched her arm—a concerned citizen probably trying to help—and Xylia jerked away with enough force to nearly send them stumbling.
"Don't touch me," she gasped. "Don't— I need to find my son. I need—"
The world was tilting sideways. Her vision was going dark at the edges.
No. No, focus. He needs you. He's out there somewhere and he needs you and you're his MOTHER, you're supposed to PROTECT him—
"RIGAS!"
Her voice cracked on the third scream.
Gone. He's gone. My son is gone.
Somewhere across town, in Hemlock's weapon shop, Rigas heard his wife scream calling his name.
And started running.
In the plaza, being carried by a knight, Piers heard nothing.
He was too focused on the books Milliana was holding.
And on the strange, new information his system kept providing.
Emotions reduced corruption.
How curious.
He'd have to test that theory.
Later.