Finn’s POV
The wooden gate closed behind them with a soft thud, cutting off the retreating voices of their friendly neighbors.
Finn let out a light chuckle.
"It seems you have an admirer," he said, glancing at Thalia with obvious amusement.
Thalia’s expression remained unimpressed as she guided Ailin carefully along the dark path back to their little house. "Didn’t you say you would lock up your Transcendent and divine power entirely?"
Finn raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, I didn’t use any divine power at all—"
"You know what I mean." Thalia sighed in exasperation.
"Huh? Don’t tell me..." Silvana, who’d been walking slightly ahead, turned back with a raised eyebrow. "Did you actually use your Transcendent power back in there?"
"Using a little touch of Error doesn’t hurt," Finn said casually. "It’s not like anyone can sense it."
"I sensed it," Thalia cut in immediately.
"But Silvana didn’t," Finn countered before she could continue. "It’s only because you’re a Transcendent yourself. A Transcendent whose concept can counter some aspects of my Error, at that. That’s the only reason you sensed my usage at all. To everyone else, I was just... persuasive."
Silvana frowned, her pale eyes studying him in the darkness. In truth, it was just like Finn had said. She’d only realized what he had done after Thalia’s words. She hadn’t sensed anything herself during the entire dinner at all.
They reached the door to the house and Finn pushed it open, the hinges creaking softly in the night air.
Once inside, Silvana’s eyes on Finn widened in realization. She stopped and crossed her arms. "That would mean you’ve also been practicing your Error against me these past few weeks?"
Finn’s smile widened, but he said nothing.
"Tsk." Silvana shook her head. "I should have known. At first, I could sense it when you used Error around me. But after the first few days when I no longer noticed anything, I thought you’d stopped altogether. That you’d committed to your plan to build lore without abilities."
Thalia strode further in as they spoke, making sure Ailin was settled comfortably in a chair before turning to face Finn directly with a serious expression.
"What are you suddenly doing, Arros? Are you changing your plans?"
Finn’s smile softened into something more genuine. "Nothing’s changed. The plan remains the same." He paused, meeting her eyes. "I’ve just given it some thought and practice. I can use certain aspects of Error to complement my lore-building without breaking the fundamental rules."
"In what way?" Silvana asked, genuinely curious.
But Finn was already walking toward his room, waving over his shoulder. "I have to wake up early. After all, my ’new friend,’ Jon, has promised to vouch for me to work at the docks. Can’t disappoint by looking all dreary, can I?"
He disappeared into his room, leaving Thalia and Silvana standing in the small common area.
Thalia stared at the closed door with a small frown creasing her face. "It almost feels like I’m talking to a different person entirely when I talk to him now," she muttered.
Silvana’s expression softened. "That’s required, Thalia. Arros is simply adapting to the new personality he wants to project as he begins building his lore. It’s all for the better. The person you knew before won’t work for what he’s trying to achieve."
She started toward her own room, then paused at the doorway. "Isn’t that what these last three weeks have been for, anyway?"
The door closed, leaving Thalia alone with the Mnemosyne and the quiet sounds of the night.
She stood there for a few seconds, processing, then walked to the small table where a simple oil lamp burned. Beside it lay the books she’d been using to study the local language, texts she could now read with reasonable fluency after weeks of dedicated effort.
She settled into her chair and opened one, trying to focus on the words.
But her mind kept drifting to Finn. To the way he’d handled Jon and his parents. The subtle manipulations, the calculated charm, the way he’d gotten exactly what he wanted while making everyone feel good about giving it to him.
It was effective. Undeniably so.
But it was also... unsettling.
What kind of character was he looking to become?
.
.
In his room, Finn lay on his narrow bed, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness.
He’d heard their conversation through the thin walls. Thalia’s concern. Silvana’s reassurance. The question underlying it all: was he still the same person they’d traveled with? Or rather, the more apt question was: Would he be the same person they had come to know after all this ended?
The honest answer was no... And yes. And something more complicated than both.
The personality he’d cultivated for his lore-building over the past three weeks wasn’t entirely false. It was an aspect of himself he’d consciously developed and amplified. Drawing on skills from Earth, from his time at the academy, geared towards aligning with the personality of someone whose title was: The Errant Heretic.
The thought of whether he was approaching this correctly flickered through his mind, but Finn pushed it away. He’d committed to this path. Second-guessing now served no purpose.
He closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
.
.
The next morning, Finn stood outside their property gate before the crack of dawn, watching the darkness slowly give way to the first hints of gray on the eastern horizon.
He spotted movement from Jon’s house — a figure trying to move silently through the pre-dawn darkness.
"Hey, Jon."
Jon nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning around with wide eyes. "Where the hell did you come from?!" The words escaped before he could stop them.
Then he caught himself, and Finn watched the young man’s face cycle through emotions. Fear, then frustration, then a forced attempt at neutrality.
But Finn had seen it all clearly. Jon had been trying to leave early, to avoid having to actually follow through on his offer from last night. Perhaps he’d have come up with an excuse to make it more believable too.
Finn didn’t comment on it. Instead, he wrapped an arm around Jon’s shoulders with familiarity, as if they’d been buddies for years, then launched into effusive thanks. Praising Jon’s generosity, expressing gratitude for the opportunity, complimenting his character, sweet-talking with such genuine-seeming enthusiasm that Jon had no graceful way to back out.
"It’s... it’s alright," Jon stammered, clearly uncomfortable but trapped by Finn’s deftly-spun social guilt attack. "Really, it’s no problem."
He carefully shrugged off Finn’s arm and they walked in silence after that. Only the sounds of their boots against the hard earth could be heard as they continued walking.
It wasn’t until the city gates came into view and the sun started peeking above the horizon that the silence was broken as people began emerging from their homes. Slowly at first, then within minutes the road was crowded with morning bustle.
But Jon and Finn had already reached the gates. With a few words of explanation about Finn’s identity and Jon showing his worker permit to the guards, they were let through. They both received tokens, small bronze discs engraved with the local character for "one."
Valid for one day? Finn mused as they stepped through the gates and into the city proper.