Yann’s brow twitched beneath the palm he used to cover his forehead. Was this really how it ended? What about his profits?
Why did he suddenly feel abandoned?
He clutched his chest, taking a deep breath. "Will you leave me behind because of a moment of carelessness? Everything I said was to protect us—to protect you. You think you’ve struck a good deal with Robert, but you don’t know what danger you’ve barely avoided!"
He swung his palm between them, almost screaming. "You’re strong, but that same strength makes you underestimate the college, Brineheart, and its nobles! There is no escape if they decide to hunt you down—you hear me, Adam? No escaping, not when the youngest of their leaders are centuries-old magi!"
Adam watched Yann after his outburst, his brow raised and a smirk playing on his lips. "I knew that long before meeting you. Do I care? Obviously, not as much as you do." He leaned toward Yann, making the arcanist step back involuntarily. "I probably can’t defeat even the weakest magus in a duel, but guess what? They can’t catch me either. The only one I’m wary of is your ancestor—the college rector, and I comply with the rules because of him."
He leaned back, waving his hand as if to dismiss Yann’s shocked expression. "Anyway, didn’t you say you’d be damned if you approached the cursed capital? You scheduled our separation the moment you spoke these words, Yann. It only came sooner than you expected it."
"You don’t understand!" Yann bit his lip, the metallic tang of blood filling his mouth. "Madness has overwhelmed Brineheart, and the college is the heart of it all." His eyes slipped to the side as he stuttered. "I-I prepared to slowly tell you about it during our journey, to make you understand that even your strength wouldn’t matter..."
Adam raised his palm, cutting Yann off. "In short, you wanted to dissuade me from going. It was doomed to fail. You should have known it better than anyone here. I met you because I sought knowledge. Where would I go if not to Brineheart?"
"Anywhere..." Yann muttered through his teeth.
Before he could continue, Adam retrieved five bottles of wine and the shamshir from his spatial ring, then placed them on the half-burned table.
"Even if we’re far from the capital and I was greatly disappointed by your performance, a deal is a deal. You can see it as a parting gift if you prefer." Adam waved as he moved toward the door, his smirk widening.
"Wait!" Yann roared, fists clenched, and spite flying. Breath hoarse, brows twitching painfully, he said. "Do you believe the land on your deed remained unclaimed for six thousand years when every house fights over the slightest inch of space? You’re not reclaiming mere land—you’re going to war against every noble house. The college is no different. I’ve seen it back when I taug—"
Adam sighed as he stepped through the doorway. "That’s your limit, Yann. Past and doubts haunt you like evil ghosts. You stumble forward instead of walking with confidence. You are..." His voice cut like an icy blade. "Truly incompetent."
He glanced one last time at Yann’s lowered face and trembling fists before leaving. Though the arcanist hid many useful secrets in his mountain of burdens, they were useless until he escaped the fear gripping him by the throat. And that was something he would have to do alone.
Adam shook his head as he crossed the corridor, then sat by the guild’s entrance. He pulled Qing, who had been sleeping in an invisible bubble in his arms, his gaze locked on the river’s stream, a pensive frown creasing his brows.
Thoughts about the madness mentioned by Alistair in his fifteen-thousand-year-old grimoire, and now by Yann, swirled in his mind like the ebbs of the flow. Yet, he found no answer even after one of the guild clerks emerged with Robert, who carried a leather suitcase bloated beyond its original design.
"Ah, sir Adam. Ready to sail toward the river of wealth to Brineheart?" Robert smiled, his eager voice pulling Adam out of his thoughts. "Didn’t you mention travel for two? Where is your companion?"
Adam rose, cradling the sleeping Qing... no, it was Quintella now.
"The second person is my little sister, Quintella," he said simply. "Did you get us the tickets?"
Robert raised a brow at Quintella, then nodded. "My assistant reserved the tickets, but that’s all he can do. Come." He waved, walking toward the Barter Throne building. "We’d better hurry. They have a ship leaving in half an hour, and they’re not known for their fast procedures."
Adam followed and for the next twenty minutes, he watched the curl-haired attendant prick their thumbs. After an extensive search through the blood registry and a respectful handshake with Robert, he finally moved aside and welcomed them on board.
Once the clean deck creaked beneath Adam’s feet, and the enchanted sails glimmered in a soft golden light above his head, he frowned. On the quarterdeck, a man wearing a broad, navy hat and a white coat buttoned up with golden buttons minted with an emblem of a crowned pouch. Sailors charged the shipment and checked the sails and ropes under his stern gaze.
Beside him, men draped in dark, beige, or crimson coats leaned against the ship’s railing or enjoyed the breeze with women in wide dresses adorned in sparse yet delicate embroideries.
With a pensive tap of his finger on his cheek, Adam turned toward Robert. The passengers were probably lesser nobles like him or guild officials, making for a luxurious entourage. Yet, he hadn’t seen Robert pay the attendant. "Is the travel free?"
"Free?" Robert pinched the bridge of his nose. "I paid three hundred Prestige in total."
Robert froze in his steps. Slowly, he turned toward Adam, his eyes widening and his mind growing hazy with confusion. Surely Adam, who had launched a million-Prestige artifact business, knew how to handle a transaction... right? It has to be. Who would sign a death contract without knowing what even orphans knew?
After a moment, his amiable smile replaced his twisted lips. "You jest, sir Adam, and almost got me this time." He chuckled heartily as he moved toward the cabins. "Let’s settle while we depart. I’m sure your sister craves a soft bed and warm blankets."
As they claimed the two most luxurious cabins, Yann, seated on the roof of the Crystal Quill Consortium, watched the ship glide on the river’s current.
Biting his lip, he muttered. "If incompetence keeps me away from grandfather and the council’s madness, I’ll continue to embrace it. You’re not ready for what you’ll find there, Adam." His lips quivered, his arms tightening around an egg the size of his torso. "I’m not. But I wish you the best of luck. And... thank you for not taking back the basilisk’s egg."
He uncorked a bottle of wine, the mellow fragrance muddling his thoughts. Then, he shook his head, put the cork back, and leapt down the roof. A moment later, he vanished into Port Vaelora’s concentric streets, determined to never let anyone know about his return.
AN: Do you prefer to continue with Adam and discover what Yann had been up to later (What I had in mind), or a Chapter about Yann?