Rigas rushed through the crowded street, Styx at his side holding his hand, her new wooden practice sword clutched triumphantly in the other.
"Mama! Look what Papa bought me! It's got a dragon carved on the—"
She stopped mid-sentence.
Xylia stood in the middle of the street, face pale, hands shaking, eyes wild with barely-contained panic. People were giving her a wide berth, whispering to each other. The shopkeeper hovered anxiously near the shop entrance.
"Rigas," she breathed, and the single word carried the weight of every nightmare a parent could have.
He understood immediately.
"Where's Piers?" he asked, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it anyway.
"I— I lost him. I just— for one second I looked away and he was gone and I searched the street but there are so many people and I can't find him and—" Her voice was rising, breaking, spiraling.
Rigas squeezed Styx's hand once, then let go and crossed to his wife in three long strides. He took her hands in his—they were ice cold despite the warm day—and looked directly into her eyes.
"Breathe," he said firmly. "We will find him."
"But what if someone took him? What if he's hurt? What if—"
"Xylia." His voice was steady as stone. "We will find him. Our son is clever. And more importantly—" he squeezed her hands "—he has you for a mother. Nothing in this town is stupid enough to hurt something you're protecting."
A shaky breath. Then another.
Xylia's panic didn't disappear, but it crystallized into something sharper. More focused.
Dangerous.
"You're right," she said quietly. Too quietly. The kind of quiet that preceded storms. "We'll find him. And if someone has touched my baby—"
The temperature in the shop seemed to drop several degrees.
The shopkeeper took a step back.
"—they'll wish they'd never been born."
"That's my wife," Rigas said with a half-amused, half-nervous chuckle. He'd seen her angry before, but this was something beyond anger.
This was primal.
"I'll help too!" Styx piped up, brandishing her wooden sword with fierce determination. "Nobody messes with my brother! I'll protect him!"
Xylia looked down at her daughter and something in her expression softened fractionally. She knelt down and pulled Styx into a brief, tight hug.
"Thank you, sweetheart. Stay close to Papa, alright?"
"Okay, Mama."
Xylia stood, her jaw set, her entire body radiating purpose.
They moved through the street at a pace that was just barely not running, the shopkeeper calling after them about payment for the scattered merchandise, but none of them were listening anymore.
All that mattered was finding Piers.
The plaza was exactly as crowded as the rest of Jenora— perhaps more so, given its position as the town's central gathering point. A large fountain dominated the center, water splashing cheerfully, completely oblivious to the drama about to unfold around it.
Near the fountain's edge, a small group had gathered.
Vale and Milliana stood talking with two additional figures: a tall man in scholar's robes with an alchemist's satchel at his hip, and a heavily-armored dwarf whose massive shield rested against the fountain's rim.
And in the arms of the silver-haired woman…
A small child with golden-blonde hair.
Milliana was mid-sentence, her tail swishing. "—telling you, we should keep him! Look at him! He's perfect!"
"He's someone's child, Millie," Vale replied. "We can't just—"
"Why not?"
"Because that's called kidnapping."
"It's only kidnapping if they want him back."
Vale opened her mouth to argue when Astral suddenly went still. His expression shifted as he stared at Piers, and even Milliana—juggling her stack of books—went quiet.
"There's a storm inside him," Astral said quietly.
"A what?" Vale shifted Piers slightly.
"Mana. An enormous amount of it." Astral moved closer, hand raised. "Contained, but unstable. Like a dam with cracks running through it."
Piers looked back at him calmly, gray eyes empty.
Astral leaned in and studied the child for another moment, then smiled.
"Aren't you something special, little one? There's a storm of magic around you… and yet you look completely harmless."
Borin, the dwarf who'd been silent until now, rumbled to life. "And what happens when that dam breaks, eh?"
"Then we'll have a problem," Astral said flatly. He exhaled, rubbing his temple. "I've never seen mana behave like this. This isn't like anything I've studied. The mana isn't being used—it's just sitting there. Accumulating. Like..." He paused, searching for the right words. "Like pressure in a sealed bottle." He met Vale's eyes. "Eventually, something's going to give."
Piers continued to stare blankly at nothing in particular.
[NULL SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[EXTERNAL ANALYSIS DETECTED]
[SUBJECT: MAGE-CLASS OBSERVER]
[ASSESSMENT ACCURACY: 43%]
[THEY SENSE THE MANA BUT NOT THE VOID]
[RECOMMENDATION: MAINTAIN PASSIVE OBSERVATION]
Piers dismissed the notification. Let them theorize.
"Should we be holding him?" Milliana asked, suddenly less enthused.
"He's stable for now," Astral said, not sounding convinced. "But his parents need to know. This kind of mana buildup needs to be managed."
Vale nodded, her protective instincts warring with the warning. Hard to believe something so light, so fragile, could be dangerous.
"Then we find his family and—"
"Vale." Borin's voice cut sharp. "Something's coming."
He was already moving, shield up, when the attack hit.