Aarin wasn't a babysitter. He had no experience dealing with kids younger than himself, and had no desire to change that.

And yet, the moment he realized he had a stalker, his disinterest wavered.

As he leaned over a display of books, fingers brushing the spine of each familiar novel, he kept a careful, concealed gaze over his shoulder. The enchantment layered upon the hood of his cloak enabled him to watch the girl as she "stealthily" spied on him from behind a light-pole.

It only managed to conceal half her figure.

The light breeze blowing through the street was his only guess for why she didn't use her other form. Or, perhaps she was just that bad at stalking someone without being seen.

Regardless, it left him with a number of possible responses--each feeling more inappropriate than the last.

He could confront her and return her to Camilla, or Rhom, whoever was home. Sorrel was an option as well, but he preferred to avoid meeting with his former classmates. Their gazes were...troublesome.

Alternatively, Aarin could take her to the tower. Allura would know what to do. But, that meant taking her somewhere she wasn't cleared to be. What if something went wrong? The end result would be on his head.

He pulled a book from the shelf. It was a familiar title, but he still flipped through it as if browsing. It gave him more time to think without drawing suspicion from the girl or shopkeeper.

Scaring her off was another option. She was young--three or four years younger than himself--and a civilian. If he growled a threat and started waving around fire magic, she'd probably run. But, if anyone recognized him, Allura would hear about it and he would get lectured. He wasn't in the mood to be stuck in her office for the third time that month.

Ignoring her, then, seemed to be the best choice.

She had to grow bored of following him eventually, right? And if he pretended to have not noticed her, there was no responsibility on his shoulders whatever the turnout was. He was fairly confident he could feign passable ignorance to anyone but Allura.

Satisfied, Aarin shoved the book back on the shelf, seized a title he didn't recognize, and went inside to pay for the novel. Following the purchase, he continued to browse the market. On occasion, he would pause to study something, using it as an excuse to spy on the girl.

It was almost as if she wanted to get caught.

Were all children so bad at surveillance? Aarin was fairly certain he at least knew the silence spell at her age. Given she'd been recovered from the Circle, shouldn't her level of knowledge have reached the basic level?

She'd never make it in the tower.

Eventually, he grew bored of lingering in the market and began making his way across the village. The closer they grew to the tower, the bolder her steps became, until she was only a dozen feet behind him. He sighed, stopping just far enough from the base that their conversation hopefully wouldn't draw the attention of the guards.

She ducked into an alley as he turned to face her. Did she think that would be enough? It was baffling.

"Come out."

At his quiet, but firm instruction, the girl slipped into view once again. Smoke curled around her ankles, but fell away as a breeze rustled her crimson hair.

This close, he had to admit that she looked leagues better than the last time he'd seen her. She was still skin-and-bones, but there was a flush to her pale body that hadn't existed before. And there was a life in her blank gaze that made the girl's face near unrecognizable.

"Were you planning on following me that far?" he asked, pointing at the tower.

Silence stretched between them, before she offered a shrug. He sighed.

"You can't." There was a clear question in her gaze, but Aarin chose to ignore it. What point was there in staying to explain the issue? It wouldn't change anything. "If you try to follow me, the guards will stop you. Then, they'll contact your guardians and you'll get in trouble. So, don't follow me."

He turned around without waiting for her answer. Relief swept through him as silence followed his words.

She wasn't following him any longer.

He tried to shake the issue out of his thoughts as he began climbing the tower floors. However, it refused to budge, and when he paused to stare out a window, he could still see her tiny figure standing a few dozen feet away from the entrance. It drew a curse from his lips as his temper flared.

It wasn't his fault she wandered off. Aarin wasn't in charge of her.

Still, if the guards had seen them talking...

He wasn't concerned about her, but himself, Aarin decided. It was in fear of the potential consequences that he decided to continue to Allura's office after sensing a familiar mana signature behind the door.

Just as it was for himself that he lingered outside until Sorrel emerged, before urging his former friend to leave the rest of his after-mission work in Aarin's hands.

It was a self-preserving action.

Nothing else.

꧁༺ ༻꧂

Before she had finished weighing the potential consequences of ignoring Aarin's warning, Sorrel emerged from the black tower.

He took one look at her and sighed. His hand ran through his hair, catching on the head band that kept his bangs from his eyes.

"I was hoping he was wrong," Sorrel informed her. "Mom must be going crazy. C'mon, let's go home."

Without waiting for a response, Sorrel stepped past her and began walking the way she'd come. Hesitation flickered through her chest and for a moment she lingered, eyes skimming the length of the tower.

"Hey."

At Sorrel's call, she spun around and ran to catch up with him. He offered a wry smile, before continuing down the dirt path. He didn't say anything, but she could feel his eyes occasionally flicking to her. As they drew away, he would cough lightly into his hand and grimace. He never stopped walking, though.

She wanted to ask him about it.

But, as always, she held back. He would get mad. She just knew it. It always happened when she spoke. And Sorrel had never been upset at her before. Not even now, when he had to escort her back to the house because she'd chased after Aarin.

She didn't want to see his smile disappear because of her.

What if he stopped smiling at her altogether?

Plus, there was another fear. A deeper one that seized her tongue in a vice.

What if she tried and nothing happened?

She couldn't remember the last time she spoke. Most likely, it had been back when she first met the Watcher. Her memories from that time were spotty. And, before then, there was nothing. Only pain on her neck and an empty blackness that ached of hunger and silence. It was just as she told Allura. No parents, no siblings, just nothing, then Him.

Perhaps she had never spoken. There was every chance that she'd lied when she said speech was something she could manage.

The urge to find out burned in her gut like a bonfire, but even as the flames scorched her insides, she held back.

Not knowing was better than revealing the lie. There was a certain comfort in ignorance.

Still, she was curious about Sorrel. Her feet slowed as her thoughts jumbled into a mess. How could she learn what she wanted without words? Miming it? He always seemed to understand what she was trying to say.

Sorrel stopped walking when he seemed to realize she'd fallen back. He didn't complain, simply sighed and faced her with that amused smile. She clasped her hands behind her back as she studied that smile.

No, she never wanted to upset him.

"Well, what is it?"

His question startled her. She wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was because he'd bothered to inquire about what was upsetting her. She raised her hand to her mouth and mimicked his coughing. He frowned in turn, seeming to think the action over, then his smile returned with a wry edge.

"Oh. Don't worry, that's nothing."

It was her turn to frown.

Well, if he didn't want to tell her, prying wasn't her place. It wasn't as if she'd been worried to begin with. Just curious.

She started walking again, dropping her curiosity for how. When he didn't follow, she turned back to tug on his sleeve. He laughed, shoved his hands in his pockets, and obediently stode ahead.

"Yes, yes, I understand, you're not worried."

He really did understand.

A strange feeling filled her chest. It was stuffy and warm. She rubbed above her heart, as if that could ease the weight of the knot.

It didn't.

꧁༺ ༻꧂

The question of what she had been doing at the tower wouldn't leave Sorrel's mind.

At the same time, the actual idea of asking felt off. It was the first time she'd done something on her own since arriving. What if he scolded her and she retreated? She'd gone as far as being worried about him. What if that stopped?

Still, when he got back there would be questions. He groaned, ruffling his hair. All it accomplished was the displacement of his headband. His mind stayed jumbled. She shot him a look as he fell into a series of coughs again.

Before he could reassure her, however, something past him seemed to catch the girl's eye. Without warning, she took off.

"H--" Sorrel began, breaking off with another cough. He cursed, before forcing himself to run after her. "Hey!"

Seeming to ignore him, she ducked around strangers before pausing at a bookstore. Novels were stacked on shelves and tables outside the shop's doors. By the time Sorrel caught up to her, she'd already searched through the stacks, before pulling a single volume from the mess. Surprise surged through him.

"You know how to read?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice. As his question seemed to reach her mind, she frowned and clutched the book to her chest. Sorrel held his hands up in surrender.

"Sorry. I didn't mean anything by that."

Outside of the various towers and other academies it wasn't uncommon for the average person to only know as much as their occupation required. Simple sums and characters were the most common. Bookstores only thrived in Whistrial because of the prevalence of magic.

He hadn't expected it of her, because her appearance spoke leagues for how valued she had been before arriving. And, it appeared he was right.

"Well, regardless," he continued, dropping a hand to his belt. He dug through a pouch he had affixed to the front. "You want that, don't you?"

She hesitated, before slowly nodding. Happiness warmed him. 'She asked for something.'

His eyes skimmed the title. "It's a romance book, you know."

And a big one at that. The cover was a light pink and the title generic. One Night. He wasn't a fan of romance, but by all appearances it was likely meant for an age bracket above hers. He couldn't teach her to read on something so complicated. Still, it was the first request she'd made of him. Sorrel wanted to buy it.

"Here."

He pulled his hand from his pouch. A quick study of the coins revealed he'd managed to grab one of each like he'd hoped.

"Pay with this," he told her. "I'll show you a few characters when we get back to the house. The more you know, the more you can do in the future."

Despite his valid excuse, the girl just stared at his hand. The book remained clutched to her chest. Hesitation infected his desires. Had he been wrong?

"You do want it, don't you?" he asked, lowering his hand.

When he was about to put the money back--certain he'd read her wrong--the girl snatched the coins from his palm. She ran into the store, as if waiting for a second might lead him to change his mind. He laughed and trailed behind her. A certain section of the shop caught his attention, and before could really consider the issue, he snagged a few random titles before following her to the counter.

Tendrils of smoke curled around her feet, betraying her nerves. However, they disappeared as the owner simply raised a brow at her book choice, before taking the money and offering her a bag. She shook her head and, after accepting the coin, spun around to return to Sorrel.

He made his own purchase. It wasn't until the shopkeeper gave Sorrel his change that a thought crossed his mind. He beckoned her to his side as they exited the shop.

"Here, put your hand over mine," he instructed.

She tensed, but did as he asked. He used his palm to steady hers. There was the faintest tremble to her hand, but she didn't pull away. It was enough. He was surprised she even allowed that much touch. He pushed the matter from his thoughts and pointed to the smallest coin.

"This coin, the one with the phoenix stamped into it, it's most commonly called a nix. Or a bird-bronze, but that's if you're being fancy. There's no reason to call it that unless you want to sound like a weird book-keeper. Anyways. If you're using numbers, it's the smallest. One nix is worth..." he drew his finger over to a larger bronze piece. "Five of this one. See the hole in it?"

He took the time to teach her each coin she'd received from the shop keeper, then the ones he'd been handed as well. When finished, he dumped the pile into her hand, and tucked her fingers closed.

"Remember the differences. That way you can buy your own snacks next time we go out. Or another book. There's enough."

Wide-eyed, she looked between her hand and Sorrel for several, tense seconds, before offering him a slow nod. She drew her hand back to her chest, clutching it as tightly as the book.

He smiled and turned back to the street. "C'mon. Let's get back before Mom loses it."