---
Chapter 97 — The Price a Child Can Pay
The boy stood at the edge of Blackreach Port long after the rain had stopped.
He couldn't have been older than twelve.
Mud clung to his boots. One sleeve of his coat was torn clean through, darkened by dried blood that wasn't all his. In his hands, he clutched a small leather pouch with both arms, as if letting go of it would make the world swallow him whole.
People passed him without slowing.
Merchants didn't see him.
Mercenaries pretended not to.
Dockhands saw only another problem that wasn't theirs.
He swallowed and stepped forward anyway.
The Broken Keel's door loomed above him.
Voices leaked through the wood—rough laughter, metal on wood, the low murmur of killers negotiating prices.
His fingers tightened around the pouch.
"I can do this," he whispered to himself.
Then he pushed the door open.
---
The tavern fell quiet again.
Not fully.
Just enough.
Kairo was still there.
Seated now, not standing. A cup of watered ale untouched in front of him. Shadows pooled lazily at his feet, no longer aggressive—just present.
Too present.
The boy froze when he saw him.
Not because Kairo looked dangerous.
Because he looked young.
Too young.
The boy hesitated, then walked forward anyway, boots scraping against the floor.
Someone snorted.
"Oi," a mercenary said, leaning back in his chair. "This ain't a soup kitchen."
The boy flinched but didn't stop.
He stopped three paces from Kairo.
Up close, the difference was worse.
Kairo was taller. Cleaner. Uninjured.
Handsome in a way that didn't feel fair.
The boy swallowed.
"I—I was told Umbra takes contracts."
Kairo looked at him.
Really looked.
Not just the blood. Not just the pouch.
The tremor in his hands.
The way his weight favored one leg.
The faint mana scarring around his ribs.
CIEL whispered instantly.
[Subject: Male, age approx. 12.]
[Internal injuries detected.]
[Rib fracture. Mana burn. Healing delayed.]
Kairo set his cup aside.
"What's your name?" he asked.
The boy blinked.
"…Renn."
"Sit, Renn."
A chair slid out on its own.
Renn hesitated, then sat, clutching the pouch tighter.
A mercenary nearby scoffed.
"You serious? Kid can't even lift a blade."
Kairo didn't look at him.
"What happened?" Kairo asked Renn.
Renn swallowed hard.
"They took my brother."
The room shifted.
Not louder.
Sharper.
"Who?" Kairo asked.
Renn hesitated. His voice dropped.
"House Viremont."
Someone cursed softly.
A mercenary leaned forward. "That's a minor noble house. Trade enforcement. Slavers when they think no one's watching."
"They said," Renn continued, words spilling now, "that my brother owed a transit debt. He didn't. He was a courier. They beat him. I tried to stop them."
He lifted his shirt slightly.
Purple bruises. A burn mark shaped like a sigil.
"They used a blessing," Renn said. "Said it was legal."
Kairo's eyes darkened.
"What blessing?" he asked.
Renn squeezed his eyes shut.
"Blessing: Authority Brand"
Effect:
– Marks a target as "lawfully detained"
– Suppresses resistance within noble territory
– Causes pain upon defiance
The tavern went dead silent.
"That blessing's restricted," someone muttered. "Only works if a magistrate signs off."
Renn laughed weakly.
"They didn't have one."
Kairo leaned back slowly.
"And the gold?" he asked.
Renn lifted the pouch with both hands and placed it on the table.
It hit harder than expected.
Coins spilled slightly.
Gold.
Real gold.
A lot of it.
Gasps rippled through the room.
"That's a down payment for a ship," someone whispered.
"My mother saved it," Renn said quickly. "She doesn't know I took it. I'll tell her after. I just—"
His voice cracked.
"I just want my brother back."
Silence stretched.
A mercenary finally spoke.
"That's not a contract," he said carefully. "That's suicide. Viremont has guards. Blessings. Papers."
Kairo's fingers tapped once on the table.
"Renn," he said, "do you understand what you're buying?"
Renn nodded.
"You won't just fight them," Kairo continued. "You'll be marked. You'll never be safe in noble cities again."
"I already wasn't," Renn said quietly.
Kairo studied him for a long moment.
Then—
He reached for the gold pouch.
Renn tensed.
Kairo pushed it back.
"You're underpaying," Kairo said.
Renn stared at him.
"What?"
Kairo stood.
Shadows rose with him—not threatening, but attentive.
"This contract isn't retrieval," Kairo said to the room. "It's exposure."
He looked down at Renn.
"You don't buy justice with gold," he said. "You buy it with leverage."
He turned slightly.
"CIEL."
[Listening.]
"Draft a shadow contract."
A sigil formed in the air between them.
"Blessing: Shadow Contract"
Effect:
– Binds Umbra to protect the client
– Scales retaliation proportional to harm done
– Transfers enforcement authority to Umbra
The sigil rotated slowly.
Kairo knelt so he was eye level with Renn.
"You don't pay," Kairo said. "Umbra does."
Renn's eyes widened.
"But I—"
"You pay later," Kairo said. "When you can."
Renn's hands shook.
"…Why?"
Kairo didn't answer immediately.
Then he said quietly, "Because if we don't answer this kind of call, none of the others matter."
The contract descended.
"Do you accept Umbra's terms?" Kairo asked.
Renn swallowed.
"I do."
The sigil burned once—then vanished.
CIEL updated.
[Umbra Contract #001 — Humanitarian Enforcement.]
[Priority: Absolute.]
Kairo stood and turned to the room.
"I need volunteers," he said.
A mercenary laughed nervously. "Volunteers? You paying in ideals now?"
Kairo's eyes flicked to him.
"No," he said. "I'm paying in consequence."
A scarred veteran stood.
"I'm in."
Another rose.
"So am I."
Then another.
Five.
Seven.
Ten.
Kairo nodded once.
"You move tonight," he said. "No banners. No slaughter unless necessary."
He paused.
"If House Viremont resists—"
The shadows sharpened.
"—make sure the city sees."
Renn looked up at him, eyes wet.
"You'll really get him back?"
Kairo rested a hand briefly on the boy's shoulder.
"Yes."
And for the first time that night—
Renn believed it.
---