“You have done well, Alwyn,” Tessarion said. There was no warmth in his voice. “In fact, King Ruven has requested to meet with us personally, to present his commendation to you for your integral part in ending this rebellion.”
Alwyn blinked, surprised. That had to be it—the plan was in motion.
“I would be honored,” he said breathlessly, looking back up at Tessarion. “Thank you, Master.”
Tessarion nodded once, sliding a single piece of parchment across his table to Alwyn; it bore the seal of the king, inviting them to an award ceremony the following evening. Alwyn took it slowly, hoping he looked reverent and surprised. “Until then, keep resting. You’re dismissed for now.”
“Yes, sir,” Alwyn said, standing to his feet. He paused before stepping away—he might never speak to the Mage Princeps in private again. “Actually, I would like to ask one thing before I go.”
Tessarion glanced up at him, his eyebrows raised marginally in surprise, and he gestured for Alwyn to continue. Still, he hesitated nervously before speaking again.
“What was the orphanage called?” he forced out. “The one I came from, where you found me.”
This time, Tessarion raised an eyebrow fully, a questioning expression on his face.
“Does it matter?” he asked. Alwyn felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.
“I just... realized I didn’t even know,” he said softly. “All these places I’ve traveled, and I don’t even know where I come from.”
Tessarion regarded him for a moment longer. As ever, Alwyn had no idea what he was thinking.
“I don’t recall the exact name,” Tessarion finally said, and Alwyn felt his heart sink. “But it was in the city of Mistfield, in the southeast. There was only one orphanage there, so it shouldn’t be hard to find.”
Mistfield. It didn’t sound familiar, but at least now he had a name.
“Thank you, sir,” he said softly, bowing his head. “Until tomorrow, then.”
Tessarion nodded, giving him a silent wave of dismissal. Slowly, Alwyn turned and walked away. Part of him wanted to look back to see if Tessarion was even watching him leave, but he forced his gaze to stay forward.
Krujha was right where Alwyn had left him, sitting quietly on the bench, but he perked up as Alwyn stepped out. His eyes were soft and questioning, but they both knew better than to discuss anything here—or anywhere in the Library, really. Krujha rose and walked beside him as they made their way back down the stairs and into the courtyard once again.
Past the Library gates, Krujha finally spoke.
“So how did it go?”
Alwyn sighed. “Well, he told me I did not have to leave the Order, which took me by surprise.”
“Hmm,” Krujha murmured. “That does seem unexpected, all things considered.”
Alwyn only nodded, and they walked in silence again until they had passed through the castle courtyard and were back on the city walkways. Krujha kept pace with Alwyn as they walked, turning his head slightly to peer down at him with an inscrutable expression.
“What?” Alwyn asked, frowning. But Krujha only smiled in response. Alwyn’s expression softened, too.
“You seem troubled, but I don’t think it has to do with being kept in the Order,” Krujha said, and Alwyn’s soft expression faded as he glanced away uncomfortably. “Did anything else happen?”
“Not really,” Alwyn said, shaking his head. “I told him about what happened, and he said I did well, and I can be kept off-duty until I’m fully healed. I just... don’t know if that will ever happen.”
Krujha still looked down at him expectantly, and Alwyn squirmed, unsure how much he wanted to share. But if he could say his worries out loud to anyone, it would be him.
“Let’s wait until we’re back in the house,” Alwyn replied. They were only about a block away now, so Krujha only shrugged, and they made the rest of the walk in silence.
Now that they were further south, the cold was a little less biting. It had finally snowed in earnest a few days ago, though, and patches of white lingered along the stone walkways. It meant the path was slippery, but the city still bustled with activity as usual, if a bit more slowly.
When they finally arrived back at Ferym’s practice, Alwyn first ducked his head into the stairwell, listening for the healer’s presence, but it sounded as though he was not at home.
“I asked him something else before I left,” Alwyn finally said, sitting down at the kitchen table across from Krujha. The orc raised a curious eyebrow, but did not interrupt. “I... I askedhim the name of the orphanage where I came from. He didn’t remember it, but he did tell me the city where it is.”
Krujha offered him a cautious smile. “That’s good, isn’t it? Do you want to go find it?”
