The capital didn't hum.

  It *hissed* — steam from cracked pipes, sigils pulsing in the cobblestones, and the sharp click of Enforcer boots echoing through narrow streets. The air was thick with something unspoken — like ash before a fire.

  Astrid kept her hood low, eyes down, pulse high. Her sleeve itched at the mark on her arm. It still burned, stinging — a constant reminder of what she was, and what she wasn’t.

  What will Charlie think of this?

  This place is changing me. Will she even recognise me anymore?

  No.

  I can’t think like that. I’m doing this for her.

  She glanced at Kurai beside her. His face was shadowed, unreadable, the collar of his coat turned up higher, hiding him even more.

  He really is nervous. I suppose he is used to danger, but being hunted is new for him.

  I just need to act confident enough for the both of us.

  They didn’t speak. They didn’t have to.

  The capital wasn’t what she had imagined.

  It was too modern — almost like home. But twisted.

  Floating streetlights swayed on cracked iron poles. Sigils flickered faintly underfoot in the cobbles. The buildings leaned inward, heavy with the weight of too many eyes.

  And everywhere, those blood-red banners — stitched with the Council’s crest: a flame pierced by a spear.

  They weren’t just decoration.

  They were a warning.

  Astrid passed three crystal orbs mounted on balconies — scrying tech, humming faintly. Watching. Recording.

  They want you to know you're being watched. This is their city.

  They crossed a plaza lined with magical scanners — thin metal arches humming low, spell-runes rotating lazily above.

  People passed through in silence, heads bowed, bodies flickering blue when the magic read them.

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  Astrid swallowed hard.

  Fake it till you make it.

  Kurai stepped forward.

  His hand trembled.

  Without thinking, Astrid grabbed his wrist.

  "You okay?"

  He didn’t answer.

  He just pulled free gently and walked through.

  The scanner pulsed.

  A flicker of red — a sharp, stuttering flame across the rune.

  Astrid’s heart stopped.

  God if he gets caught, we are screwed. He wont go without a fight.

  But the rune settled.

  The scanner pulsed green.

  Kurai kept walking.

  No one stopped.

  No alarms.

  No shouts.

  But Astrid saw it.

  The way he flinched.

  The way he pulled his arm tight against his side like it hurt.

  Her turn came. She stepped through — nothing. No flicker. No hesitation.

  God, I really hope no one noticed that.

  Maybe it’s just... because he has magic, and I don’t?

  But her gut twisted.

  That flicker wasn’t nothing.

  What if it means the disguise is falling apart?

  What if they saw?

  They turned a corner. The crowd thinned. Astrid caught up to him, her voice low and urgent:

  "Your mark — it reacted to that scanner."

  "It didn’t," Kurai said flatly.

  "Kurai—"

  "Let it go."

  A silence fell between them.

  Thick. Heavy. Familiar.

  She hated it.

  He’s hiding something again. I thought we were past this.

  They continued down the street, Astrid could just feel all eyes were on them, probably paranoia but still, she made eye contact with a civilian walking past and as quickly as their eyes locked, they dropped their gaze.

  She heard whispers as they walked, “They’ve increased scans again. Gods I hope my classification is still valid.”

  Everyone else seemed on edge here, how much control does this council actually have?

  They slipped into a narrower street — dim, lined with broken crates and cracked windows. A child watched them from behind a doorframe, eyes too old for his face.

  An Enforcer passed at the far end. It made eye contact and started heading over.

  Oh fuck.

  she stepped in before Kurai had the chance, “Good morning, how you going?” in her most pleasant hopefully casual voice.

  I think my voice sounded calm. My heartbeat on the other hand didn’t get the memo

  They didn’t speak just continued to walk towards them.

  Then another appeared behind them. Then —

  Astrid heard the click.

  Too close.

  She turned —

  The alley behind them was filling.

  Enforcers. Three, maybe four. More ahead.

  They were being herded.

  Fuck.

  Kurai’s shoulders tensed.

  Astrid spun around.

  Dead end.

  The market walls pressed in — no exits, no runes to trick, no crowd to vanish into.

  "Kurai," she whispered.

  They did see it. Shit.

  Kurai’s hand flexed.

  The air shimmered faintly with heat.

  Astrid grabbed his arm, trying to steady him.

  Always straight to violence.

  Where’s the smooth talker I met back in the woods?

  Above them, from a rooftop balcony, a figure stepped out.

  Cloaked. Masked. Watching.

  Oh god this is bad.

  Then —

  The first Enforcer raised a hand.

  Astrid’s heart raced.

  The memory of their first encounter — demands to show their marks — snapped into focus.

  Their whole disguise, this whole plan —

  It had always been a gamble.

  And it was crumbling.

  The volcanoes waited beyond the capital.

  The dragonlands.

  If they could make it through this city.

  They weren’t here to stay.

  The capital was just a bridge — nothing more.

  Astrid didn’t know whether to run... or wait.

  Okay. Think. Talk first. Stall if you must.

  The brick at her back was cold and wet.

  No rune-marked doors.

  No shadows deep enough to disappear into.

  A dead end.

  His skin was too hot under her fingers.

  If he lost control now — magic would explode through this alley like wildfire.

  Priority one: keep Kurai calm. No magic. No explosion.

  Gotta stay calm. Look for an opening.

  Then —

  someone stepped out from behind the Enforcers.

  A man.

  Slim, Gold-stitched cloak. The same flame-and-spear crest bleeding across every damn banner in this city.

  The Council.

  Astrid’s stomach dropped.