The tavern Leon chose was quieter than the market, tucked into a side street with a faded sign depicting a cracked goblet. The trio settled into a corner booth, and only after the server had delivered steaming bowls of stew did Leon finally speak.
"Selene’s a problem," he admitted, stirring his food absently. "She’s a scholar, but she’s got ties to the Empire’s research division. If she’s sniffing around Essentia artifacts, it ans they’re still hunting for ways to weaponize it."
Elliot set down his spoon. "And Heartwood?"
Leon’s jaw tightened. "The attack wasn’t random. The Empire was after sothing—or soone. I just don’t know what yet."
Towan’s stomach churned, his appetite vanishing. "So we’re not safe here either."
"Nowhere’s truly safe," Leon said bluntly. "But you’re safer with than on your own. Which brings us to your first real lesson." He reached into his coat and slid a small, polished stone across the table. It shimred faintly, veins of blue light pulsing beneath its surface.
Elliot recoiled. "Is that—?"
"Essentia-infused," Leon confird. "A tracker. Selene’s people planted it on last week. I’ve been letting them think it’s still active." His grin was sharp. "Today, we’re going to teach them a lesson about observation."
Towan’s pulse quickened. "You’re using us as bait?"
"Not bait," Leon corrected. "Partners. You wanted training? This is it. Learning to spot threats, to control the ga before it controls you." He pocketed the stone and stood. "Finish your food. We’ve got work to do."
As Leon strode out to settle the bill, Towan and Elliot exchanged a glance—equal parts dread and determination. The quiet routine of the restaurant felt worlds away now.
Elliot broke the silence first. "You still think sticking with him is a good idea?"
Towan picked up his spoon, forcing himself to eat. "Better than the alternative."
Outside, the shadow of the Empire lood, but for the first ti since Heartwood, Towan felt a spark of sothing new: purpose.
INT. TAVERN – DAY
Towan shoveled the last of his stew into his mouth and stood, chair scraping. "I’ve got an idea."
Elliot wiped his hands on his trousers, eyeing the faint blue glow of the Essentia tracker peeking from his pocket. "I’m all ears."
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EXT. LOCKEHEART MARKET – DAY
The market roared with haggling rchants and clattering carts. Towan rolled his shoulders, his gaze slicing through the crowd.
"Can’t believe it’s always this packed," he muttered, fingers drumming the hilt of his dagger.
Elliot adjusted his scarf, lips barely moving. "Yeah… still not used to it." A pause. "Seen them?"
Towan’s smirk was razor-thin. *"Three. No, wait—*four. Lady with the basket’s got a knife under her shawl." He flicked a breadcrumb off his sleeve. "They’ve been on us since we left the inn."
Elliot’s thumb brushed the tracker in his pocket. "Guess they expected Leon."
"Too bad they got us," Towan said, cracking his knuckles. "Shall we start?"
Elliot nodded. Then—
LOUDLY, he shouted: "Can’t believe he’s keeping it all to himself!"
Towan threw up his hands, voice sharp with just enough real frustration: "Shutting himself in the clock tower—after everything we did for him!"
A beat. The figures tailing them lted into the crowd. Too fast. Too smooth.
Towan’s smirk vanished. "...That was suspiciously easy."
Elliot’s fingers curled around the tracker. "And just like that… she’s walking right into him."
Dust floated in the beams of moonlight filtering through the cracked windows. Leon moved thodically around the room, placing papers, scribbled notes, and old docunts on the rickety wooden tables. Chalk lines crisscrossed a large board, tracing false leads and half-truths.
"So of this… so of that," he muttered, adjusting a few loose sheets, ensuring the scene looked just chaotic enough to be convincing.
He stepped back, arms crossed, surveying his work.
"This should be enough to make Selene believe this is an active research site." He exhaled sharply. "Now, let’s just hope the kids’ plan worked."
Then—he felt it. A shift in the air. A presence.
Footsteps echoed against the stone floor.
A slender figure stepped inside, her coat brushing against the dusty furniture. Selene’s sharp eyes darted across the room, scanning the notes with an urgency that bordered on desperation. She flipped through pages, brows furrowed, muttering under her breath.
"There’s no way… He wouldn’t have kept this from . He would have told ."
Fingers tightening around a docunt, she searched faster, pages crinkling under her grip. Her breath hitched. Then, realization dawned.
"Leon… you—"
THUD.
The door slamd shut.
Selene spun around, startled. Her gaze locked onto Leon, now standing in front of the sealed exit, one hand outstretched, Essentia pulsing faintly from his fingertips.
"Finally." His voice was steady, but the weight behind it was unmistakable.
The last flickers of energy sealed the door shut. No interruptions. No easy escape.
Leon’s piercing stare t hers.
"I’ve got a few questions, Selene."
He took a slow step forward.
"And I think it’s about ti you answered them."
Towan and Elliot weaved through the winding alleys, scanning the skyline for any sign of the clock tower.
"Damn, we should’ve asked Leon where the tower actually is," Towan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Yeah… that probably would’ve saved us so ti," Elliot admitted, his eyes darting between rooftops.
Silence. A shared look.
Then, almost in sync—both let out a resigned sigh.
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