“What?” she asked and looked surprised. Damian just shook his head.

  “It just happened,” Darrow said and exchanged a glance with Damian.

  “Of course, you needed to level up, but that wouldn't be enough. You must have wanted to do it. Again, I shouldn't be surprised. It's a rare class you two have,” she rambled on, and a small smile grew on her face. That was the theory she had.

  Cassandra mastered her reaction and looked up at the boys. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes. Damian and Darrow groaned. They knew in the upcoming days their training would be relentless.

  “Anyways, that's how we ended up in the cell,” Damian said, trying to pull her back from her thoughts of training them.

  He failed.

  “This means you two didn’t like my training. I knew it!” she pointed from one brother to the other.

  “Could we not do that,” Damian said, but she was of a different opinion.

  “Training and lots of it,” she said flatly, and they hung their heads.

  “I for one blame Lord Greldo,” Darrow said.

  “Yah maybe his lackey saw us and then sent the watch after us.”

  Cassandra looked up at them. That could be a valid point, she thought. She began pacing.

  “Lord Greldo,” she murmured, thinking.

  “What, Aunt Cass?”

  “His not the type to act openly. You may be right.”

  “Then he’s hiding something he doesn’t want the Drakes to know?” Damian asked.

  “Or a group of people,” she said, then looked toward the skyline and past that to the Administrative Ward.

  There was a clang as distant bells echoed throughout their ward and throughout the entirety of Principle District State. Then there was a knock on their door.

  Elora stepped in a minute later with a crate of all sorts of enchanting tools and mana crystals.

  Her face was smudged with enchanter’s ink, but she was smiling, or trying to.

  “Morning!” she said after she saw them.

  Cassandra turned, and her expression softened.

  “Did you get everything?”

  “Yes,” the half-elf nodded.

  “Good. You're staying and working here until they find your father.” she pointed a thumb back at the twins.

  “Thank you but—”

  “No worries. I just can’t let you stay on your own now, can I?” she said, and it sounded like she had made up her mind.

  “Thank you.”

  “Can we leave?” Darrow asked.

  “No. You will stay here and practice with Elora,” she said, pushing the young half-elf into a chair.

  “Practice what?” she looked put out.

  “Magic and enchanting. Darrow was telling me about it,” Cassandra said.

  Elora blushed and looked down.

  “And you two?”

  “Yes, we’ll endeavor to learn from Elora,” Damian said.

  Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him, then at Darrow. Then she turned and walked out of the shop; she would do some investigating of her own.

  The three stood there in silence for a minute, and after a while, Elora started to feel uncomfortable. She looked around and began to speak, but Damian raised his hand. She waited.

  She looked at Darrow, and his eyes were closed.

  “She’s gone,” he said after a while and opened his eyes.

  Elora crossed her arms.

  “You’re not going to do what she said, are you?”

  “Nope,” Darrow said with a faint smile.

  “At least not until we have breakfast,” Damian grinned as they both made for the door.

  “Typical,” Elora muttered, but followed behind them anyway.

  The streets were already busy, and the morning rush was on the way. There were carts filled with glowing seafood from the canal fishery, shouting vendors selling recently cut steaks, and hammering from an anvil of a dwarf who fixed everyday equipment in his stall.

  Light bounced off the tallest buildings and gave the entire place an orange morning glow that mixed with the smell of freshly baked honey bread and eggs. The streets of New Calvassan had a routine for every morning of every day, just as long as a portal gate didn’t appear and spit out monsters.

  Damian, Darrow, and Elora wove their way through the streets, only being stopped once by a woman who recognized them for closing a dungeon days ago.

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  By the time the brothers reached where they were going, it was late afternoon, and Elora was already tired of guessing where they were going or what they were up to.

  “You think his inside?”

  “Probably,” Damian said as they looked up at a sign that read The Bronze Cup.

  The Bronze Cup was the local tavern for average working dwarves, humans, elves, or half-giants. In fact, it was one of the only places that catered to a majority of races.

  Inside, the place was filled with laughter and tankards clanking together loudly, which in turn caused the conversation to get even louder.

  The place was filled with mostly humans and dwarves, with some elves and half-giants thrown into the mix. They squeezed through this growing crowd until they finally reached the counter.

  Behind the counter, serving drinks and ale, was a well-built human man who made Damian’s hair stand on end.

  “We are looking for Basrik,” Damian asked, leaning over the counter and trying to look like he belonged.

  The man looked him up and down, then nodded toward the kitchen and went back to busying himself with dusting out a clean glass with a white rag.

  There was a thud as a ladle was lowered, and a woman’s voice interrupted them.

  “Ye must be friends with my boy. Quick, quick, feel at home.” She rubbed the counter off with a rag of her own.

  She was a dwarf with rosy cheeks and an apron dusted with flour.

  “Uhm, we—” Damian started, but she cut him off.

  “You’re the boys from down the street. Who can forget a face like that?”

  They looked at each other. Being twins had to be difficult for others, but this woman seemed to take it in stride, and she had a relaxed manner about it. This put them at ease as well.

  She hopped onto a standing stool by the counter.

  “Exactly, two of you for two of my eyes,” she said.

  “Uhm, we are actually acquaintances,” Damian finally managed to get a word in.

  “Yes, we are friends,” Darrow said, correcting his brother.

  The dwarf beamed.

  “Basrik! Your friends are here!” she yelled, and half the patrons near the counter looked over.

  Damian winced. He looked embarrassed, but the woman didn’t seem to care.

  “Sit, sit. Order something,” she insisted.

  Wanting to be done with the whole thing, Damian placed down a large silver coin, and as soon as he put it down, the dwarf’s hand shot out and grabbed it.

  “Big tipper!” she cackled and tucked it away.

  “Wait—” Damian said.

  His hand twitched, but he knew he had underestimated the savvy dwarf. He had just overpaid for their breakfast.

  To the side of the tavern, there was a scrying mirror hanging on a wall, and many patrons turned to face it. The enchanted mirror was showing an arena broadcast, and it glowed with magical lines on its edges.

  The scrying spell embedded in the mirror allowed them to see a lionin fighter grappling with a goliath in a sandy arena of Myr.

  With the goliath’s sword thrown to the side, the lionin had the clear advantage with his claws. The goliath half-giant’s skin hardened to stone, and he punched the other fighter back.

  The crowd in the tavern cheered one moment, then winced a second later.

  Basrik emerged, wiping his wet hands on a towel, and he looked much different than when he muscled them a couple of days ago on the street.

  The dwarf was certainly surprised to see them, yet he shouldn’t have been.

  They all had grown up in Principal District City, and they went to the same nursing home and letter home. This wasn’t a surprise as well. There were only so many people with the [mentor] or the [instructor] class.

  Then after that, children would apprentice with a [scribe], [druid], [crafter], or even a [swordsman]. It was just that Basrik had taken a different path, leading his street gang when he wasn’t helping out his parents.

  Basrik spotted them, and his expression darkened.

  “What do you two want?” he hissed, and for that, his mother elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Be nice,” she said.

  If Basrik could have shown his displeasure at seeing the twins, he would have. Instead, he sighed.

  A tense moment later, he narrowed his eyes, shook his head, and gestured for them to follow him.

  They found a table by the window overlooking the Ashlock Bridge, which was a bridge held up by an Ashlock tree. It could also be described as a tree trunk holding up a slab of polished stone. That's if you did take into account that the city was once ruled by elves before dwarves and humans took over.

  The wooden table had a silent bubble enchantment for anyone who needed a private conversation, and Basrik lowered his hand to activate it.

  The few intricately woven lines in the table glowed with faint light, but something went wrong—too much magic.

  It sparked, then the magic died out. Basrik blinked. He looked down, stared at his hand, then up at Darrow.

  “Did you just—” he began, and Darrow just shrugged.

  “Yes, he just did magic,” Damian answered for him.

  “Since when can you two do magic?”

  “I never said I could.”

  “Don’t give me that. If he is doing it, you probably taught him.”

  “Hey, I'm offended,” Darrow put on a hurt look.

  Basrik’s eyes narrowed, and then his hand moved slowly as he tried again.

  This time it worked, and Darrow didn’t interfere.

  The sounds of cheering men and laughter faded away, and the garble dulled around them.

  “Alright. Talk,” the dwarf said and sat back.

  “We need your help,” Damian said, and Basrik chuckled.

  “Wait. You’re serious.”

  “Of course we are. Why would we come to you?” Darrow said.

  Basrik huffed.

  “Hmm. And what do I get in return?”

  “Me and my brother will owe you a favour,” Damian said, and he partly hated the thought.

  “A favour from you two. I can work with that.” He looked up, thinking, then nodded.

  “We are looking for someone,” Damian said.

  “My father,” Elora added, sitting forward.

  Basrik looked at her and sat back. He looked offended for some reason. Sure, he ran his gang, but they didn’t take people.

  “I haven’t seen any half-elf, if you’re asking,” Basrik said. He avoided Elora’s eyes.

  “How about Lord Greldo’s carriages?”

  “Why?” he asked. He looked interested, and his eyes flicked toward Elora.

  “Because he has my father,” Elora said, and her voice shook.

  Basrik studied her, and for but a moment, the scowl on his face faded.

  “Well shit. You boys really need my help,” he said and fell silent a moment later.

  Basrik thought of how he could help and anything that could help. He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

  “So…” Darrow began, and the dwarf whirled on him. He raised his hands in surrender.

  “You lot are insane.”

  “So you’ll help?” Damian asked.

  Basrik crossed his arms.

  “Maybe,” he said.

  He looked up, and his mother waved at him with a big smile on her face. And besides the twins, Elora looked pitiful. The combination of his mother's joyous smile, Elora's pitiful face, and the fact that the twins were asking for help was too much even for him.

  Basrik sighed, then he leaned forward.

  “We seen a lot of hovercrafts, Spirit Carriages, and glide-runners in and around the guild and Upper Ward.”

  “So what?” Damian asked, leaning forward.

  “It means there is a ball this week.”

  “A ball?” Darrow repeated, and Damian raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “Yes. In the Administrative Ward. Nobles, Adventurer lords, merchant lords, you know the sort.”

  “And Lord Greldo?”

  He turned to Damian and nodded.

  “His carriage will be there. Always is. He owns the place.”

  “So we sneak in,” Darrow suggested.

  The dwarf leaned back.

  “Good luck with that. The place is filled with lionin mercenaries and Goliath guards.”

  Elora’s eyes flicked to Damian, then Darrow. The two brothers looked unbothered, and this gave her a bit of confidence.

  No. She had to believe they could find her father.

  “We’ll manage,” she said and nodded, and Darrow nodded as well.

  “Fine. It’s no skin off my arms. And remember, it’s a favour. You two owe me,” Basrik the dwarf said.

  “Noted,” Damian said and nodded.

  From the counter, Basrik’s mom watched, and there was a mother’s pride in her gaze.

  His father just scoffed.

  “I hope he’s still not running around with those hooligans,” the man said, and the dwarf smacked him.

  The last noon bell rang, and Basrik rose.

  They finished their breakfast, and soon after that, Damian, Darrow, and Elora left.

  “Good luck, idiots,” Basrik said, and his mother yelled at him.

  “Be nice!” She looked at them.

  Basrik groaned.

  “Come back again,” she told the trio as she waved her hand.

  When they got back to the storefront, they got back to doing business. Elora sat down with the boys, and the magic lessons began.