Someone pounded on the front door, startling Madrona. The hour was late, and she'd almost been ready to turn in for the night after a few tokes from her pipe near the hearth. Before she could respond, another round of thumps demanded her attention, but indecision held her feet.

The world had gone mad in recent weeks, and folk more so. There was no telling who'd come calling—but this was Lund, a small farming village far from the bustling streets of Alatyr.

Nothing terrible or unexpected ever happened in Lund.

Whomever it was pounded again, this time continuously. Knocking loud enough as to wake the dead! Madrona thought, closing the gap between the hearth and the entryway. Moonlight mingled with firelight when she opened the wooden door, though it did little to aid in identifying the tall, hooded figure standing outside.

"Who're you?" Madrona demanded. "Don't you know folk are sleeping? What do you want?"

"I'm a friend," the figure—a man—replied. "I've come seeking information."

No bloody information here. "Yeah? Don't sound like anyone I know," she said, crossing her arms. "More besides, it's late, and I'm tired. Now, do a friend a courtesy and show your face tomorrow at a decent hour."

She tried to close the door, but he wedged his foot inside. Before she could protest, he shoved his way past and pulled back his hood. "I'm sorry. We have to talk. I don't have a lot of time."

"Just who in the hell do you think—" Madrona started, then she recognized him— "Aureus? Gods, you could've told me it was you! What's all this then?" He's filled out, she thought, closing the door. "Do you know what sort of fright you just gave me? I ought to tan your hide and then some!"

"Peace," Aureus replied, raising his hands. "I just need to ask you a few questions—then I'll be on my way." He looked around and gestured at the pair of chairs before the hearth. "Can we sit?"

She huffed, blowing stray silver hairs from her face. "Fine then, but you've some explaining to do." She pointed at the chair behind him. "That's my seat. You can sit here."

Madrona doused her pipe, eyeing him carefully. More than just his hooded cape was frayed and torn—other garments showed considerable wear and carried the sour scent of old sweat. Dark, disheveled hair and brows furrowed in consternation, set above darker baggy eyes, made him the very portrait of haggardness.

Someone's seen better days... "What's happened?" she asked, voice softening at the sight of him. "What's wrong?"

"I—" he swallowed— "I'm not sure where to begin. I suppose I should start by apologizing."

And well you should. She waved her hand, deciding to be more agreeable than she felt. "Forgiven, love. You're welcome at my door—always. You gave me a start is all." She shifted in her seat, speaking low. "There's been a bit of commotion all over—especially in Alatyr, I hear. Can't imagine what you've been through. Do you know what's happening? With magic, I mean. It's the Arcanarium again, ain't it? Meddling in the natural order of things."

He nodded, watching the dancing flames. "Something like that," he said, his tone even, distant. "I need your help—some food if you can spare it—but more importantly, I need to find Iliam."

Madrona's heart skipped a beat, and she averted her gaze to the fire. Damn that man. We come to it then—after all this time...

"I know you know where he is," Aureus pressed. "If I were to guess, you're probably the only person who does."

Of course I do. "I can't help you," she replied. "You know that."

There was silence for a time, and in it, Aureus spoke volumes. She could feel the weight of his gaze. He wasn't going to leave until he had answers. It's too risky to let him stay, she reasoned.

Trembling, she spent the interim fidgeting with a loose thread in her blouse until guilt finally won out. She saw him then. Not as the man he'd become but as the boy she'd raised in the Arcanarium kitchens. He's still my son—adopted or no—and not the only one to account for."Why?" she asked, fear sharpening her tone more than she intended. "Why now? Not once have you ever asked about him."

Aureus opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated.

I shouldn't shame him, even if he's one of them now. Still, he doesn't know what he's asking. Madrona leaned forward. "Well then? What sort of devilry have you brought to my door? Way I see it, that's the only reason you'd come knocking at a time like this, asking after a man you know full well"— she paused to recollect, realizing she'd raised her voice—"I don't need to know what you've gotten yourself into, but I can see plain enough where it's leading if Iliam's involved. You shouldn't be here. Last thing I need is the Enclave breathing down my neck. I didn't leave Alatyr just to have you dragging his mess back into my life."

Any hopes of dissuading Aureus were dashed when he returned her stare. He ain't a boy anymore, and never the fool—and gods know where this mule-headedness comes from. Sure as I am a peasant, there's something he ain't telling me. Something that's gnawing at him.

"The sooner I'm gone, the less likely they'll be able to track me here," he replied, exhaling. "This is big, Madrona, and I'm doing the best I can with what I know to make things right. And what I know is that Iliam is somehow the key to what's happening. To magic. To me..." He leaned in close and lowered his voice, cupping her hands. "I know this isn't easy for you, but please, you need to tell me where I can find him. If not for me, do it for Ilias."

Bollocks...

Aureus waited, and Madrona worked on chewing a hole through her lip.

"What you have to understand," she began, her voice thick, "is that there's nothing I wouldn't do to protect you boys. I would watch the world burn before I let something happen to either of you. That's why I can't tell you." Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. "If I tell you, it won't be safe here. Not for me or Ilias. And it'll bring you naught but pain. Pain I fear will be the death of you."

Bringing his hand to her cheek, Aureus's lips twisted into a doleful smile. "You can't protect me anymore. But you can still protect Ilias. Nowhere will be safe when the Veil falls." She tried to look away, but he gingerly held her gaze. "Everything depends on you telling me where to find Iliam."

Men... To hell with them. The last of her defenses crumbled, and she gripped his hand at her cheek. "Sylvanfall. He's in Sylvanfall."

He chuckled mirthlessly. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

You're not funny. The thought propelled a laugh, released from a bundle of coiled nerves in her stomach. She sniffled and drew him in for a hug and swift pat. "You're a right git, you know that?"

"So I've been told," he replied, returning her embrace. "Thank you."

Don't thank me. Not for this...

When they withdrew, an altered unease settled, birthing new fears. Now that she'd told him, she could sense he had additional, more difficult, questions. She gripped the armrests of the chair, steeling herself.

But the questions didn't come as quickly as she thought.

Instead, she caught him looking over her shoulder as if he'd seen a ghost. She twisted in her chair—half expecting to see her adult son, Ilias, standing behind her.

But there was no one there.

She turned to face Aureus again—his face pale, twisted into a grimace. Is that...fear? Grief?

"Son?"

Trance broken, he blinked and quickly swiped a glistening tear from his cheek. He cleared his throat and fidgeted with the dirt under his fingernails. "Why did the Enclave decide to excommunicate Iliam?" he asked, voice hoarse. "What did he do?"

"Well," she replied, her response measured, assessing his mood, "I can't say I know for certain. All I know for sure is they didn't like his research much—called it unnatural and against everything the college stood for."

"Did he ever mention what he was working on? Theories or discoveries he was excited about?"

Of a sort... "No, not that I can remember."

"Did you ever notice anything odd? What about the way he smelled? Sweet, but also foul? Like he'd been handling something that'd died? Staying up late into the night and sleeping during the day?"

Bloody hells, Aureus. Madrona wasn't a mage or as learned in arcane arts as the people she'd worked for, but she wasn't stupid. He wants to know if Iliam was studying necromancy. She shook her head. "No," she replied honestly. "No, what're you getting at?"

"I'm trying to figure out what he was working on. Anything you know could be helpful. Even details you think might not be important."

It's been over thirty years. What does he expect? "Only other thing I know is the Enclave didn't much care for Iliam working so close with the fae so soon before they signed the treaty to end the war. Said he didn't have permission to venture north near Unseelie lands and accused him of consorting with the lot them."

"Why?" Aureus asked, plucking his cuticles. "What did they think he was doing? Did they present any evidence?"

"Not sure," she replied, shrugging. "Heard tell they tore up his study and made off with his things. Said some of it was contraband. That's why he returned to Alatyr, but they tracked him and took what he had there, too."

"Then the Enclave's investigation continued until they found him guilty... But what about when he lived in Alatyr? Did he ever contact you?"

Madrona nodded and exhaled, but the breath failed to relieve the pressure in her gut. "Yes. He came to visit a few times." While I was pregnant with his child. "Last time I actually seen him was when he brought you to me. Only heard from him in letters after that."

Aureus paused, considering. Firelight pranced on the walls, chasing flickering shadows.

Leave it at that. No more questions.

"Where did Iliam find me?"

The thought came unbidden and as strong as in the first days she'd held him. It's not important where—you're mine, and that's all that matters. She squirmed in her seat, palms and underarms sweaty.

"Madrona?"

It doesn't matter. They can't hurt us if they don't know.

"Madrona..."

It doesn't matter!

"Madrona!"

"I don't know!" she shouted back, the outburst leaving a wounded silence in its wake.

Firewood popped in the hearth, sparks bouncing onto stone.

"How can that be? You were the first to tell me."

Was I?

"Tell me the truth. Did Iliam know my birth parents?"

Yeah...no—not exactly. "No," she said.

"Earlier, you said finding Iliam would bring me pain. What does that mean? Do you know something the Enclave doesn't?"

Yes. "No. I just reckon you should stay as far from Iliam as possible."

"Why?"

"He's trouble, Aureus—surely you can see that. If he wasn't, you really think I'd be here in Lund instead of Sylvanfall? Gods, son—Ilias has every right to know who his father is, but that man's never been fit to be a parent. So you won't catch either of us within a hundred leagues of him. And mark my words: you'd do well to do the same!"

"Sylvanfall is less than a hundred leagues from here," Aureus stated.

Get smart with me... I ought to flick your ear! She chose not to entertain the comment despite the flush she felt in her cheeks. Instead, she drove her point home, "Only thing I know for sure about where you came from is that a woman brought you to Iliam in Alatyr before he was officially excommunicated. Poor miss seen him for what she thought he was—an arcanist that could take you in and raise you. It was common enough then, given how they needed folks to do their bidding."

The furrow in his brow deepened. "Iliam told the Enclave he found me a trash bin in Alatyr—the same thing you told me when I came of age. So, which is it? Both stories can't be true."

You're terrible at this, Maddie, she told herself. "Suppose he told them that so they didn't track down the poor lass thinking she was consorting with him. Least, that's what I think. He didn't bother telling me why he told the Enclave otherwise."

Aureus hung his head, defeated.

Good, she thought, hating herself for rejoicing in her son's downcast expression. He ran his hands through his hair. "Wait here a moment," she said, eager to redirect. "I'll fetch you something to eat."

Despite the gloom and poor eyesight, Madrona found her quarry easily enough in the pantry: two handfuls of hard tack. When she returned, Aureus was leaning back in the chair, eyes closed.

If he's on the run chasing after Iliam, the Arcanarium will be passing through soon enough. Best to send him on his way.

She moved to rouse him.

Past and present collided, halting her outstretched hand, and motherhood waged war on her conscience.

An image flashed in her mind—Aureus, no more than seven years old, struggling to carry a puppy half as big as he was, begging her to help mend its broken leg and hoping to keep it afterward. When it came down to it, he was still that naïve child—thoughtful, sincere, and convinced the injustices of the world could easily be mended with a caring hand without consequence.

My dear, sweet boy...

What he hadn't understood, and she had failed to teach him, was that the world wasn't so easily calculated and neatly sorted. There had been consequences to helping that puppy—consequences she'd shielded him from.

Only now, Aureus was the puppy.

There's no helping it. This is for the best. Quick as a flash, Maddie. He can take care of himself now. He has to. You've another who needs you.

One nudge was all it took to wake him.

Thank the gods. Not sure I could bring myself to do more if it called for it. "Not what you're accustomed to in Alatyr, I imagine," she said, handing him the tack. "But it won't spoil anytime soon and should last you at least halfway to Nysara."

He accepted the food and stuffed it into his pack.

"Sure you can't stay a night?" she asked. "Looks like you could use the rest." Please say no.

"I've stayed long enough as it is," he replied, pulling up his hood. "Thank you—truly."

She hugged him, disguising her relief. Don't make this any harder than it has to be. Say your goodbyes. Gods willing, he'll be pounding on your door years from now under better circumstances. "Good luck. My love goes with you," she said, meaning every word.

He returned the embrace, surprising her with his strength as he sighed heavily, sinking for a moment into her arms.

Time stood still, and she savored the moment.

This is the last time you'll see him... She managed to push the unwanted thought away by the time they separated, though it lingered there, pinching at her stomach to tell her it was true. It was enough to break her, but she held fast—resolved not to show him her concern. No sense making this harder on him than it already is.

"Give Ilias my best, will you?" he asked, heading to the door. "I've missed him."

Now you're not making this any easier for me... "Later," she said, nodding. "When the time is right. You understand, yeah?"

He returned a poignant nod of his own, turned, and slipped into the night.

Wasting no time, she spent the next quarter hour packing until she heard Ilias's heavy footsteps in the loft above. "You up, Mama?" he called.

"Yes, love. Get dressed, will you? We'll be leaving soon."

Ilias lumbered down the stairs and entered the kitchen, where she'd been working up a sweat, stuffing food into a sack. "I heard you talking to someone. I thought it were the constable again."

"And why would you think it were the constable and not some other fellow?" she asked—suspicious but only half interested in wanting to know the answer as she pocketed every coin they had. After tonight, nothing Ilias had done in Lund would matter.

"No reason," he replied.

Lying runs in the family, it seems. Like as not let loose someone's chickens again.

"Why you packing food?" Ilias asked.

Patience, Maddie... she reminded herself. "Like I said, we'll be leaving soon."

He took a moment to process the statement. "But it's dark outside."

How much should I tell him? If the Arcanarium catches us, they won't treat Ilias gently just because he has a disability. The thought of inquisitors torturing him made the decision easier.Best tell him enough to keep their blades at bay. Hopefully, none will come asking at all."Inquisitors will be breathing down our necks before long—that's why. We need to leave."

He considered her words while she closed the sack with twine and fetched their shoes and scarves near the door. "Why would inquisitors come here?" he asked, putting on his shoes. "We don't know nothing about anything, Mama."

"I already lied to someone once tonight about where they came from, and I'll be hard-pressed to keep myself from saying where they've gone. No more questions now. I'll explain more on the road. Here, take your pack."

"Okay, Mama."

A few minutes later, they were out the door—fleeing a home they'd likely never see again. After an hour into the journey west, Madrona realized she hadn't extinguished the fire in the hearth.

She stole a glance back at Lund. Smoke, rising from the morning fires above the trees, was the only indicator of where the village lay.

"Coming, Mama?" Ilias asked.

"I'm coming." She walked on, hoping their home would catch flame.

But she knew better.

The world don't sort itself out so easy, Maddie. It don't sort itself out so easy...

⊱─━━━━⊱༻●༺⊰━━━━─⊰

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