“Well, it’s hard to put into words…” I say. “When I tapped into the aether, I didn’t have to exert as much effort to pull the current through the light. And it bubbled up so quickly I almost sliced Fionn in half.” He grimaces, and I give him a wink. “I was obviously able to control it, but it took me by surprise. I didn’t notice it until today, though. Every day that I’ve water channeled it feels the same. Have you guys noticed anything with your magic?”

“I haven’t used my magic at all,” Fionn says, disappointed. “Not much need to guide weapons into their targets when you’re sitting in diplomatic meetings all day.”

“Depends on the meeting,” I joke.

“My air channeling experience is the same as yours,” Silene says. “Have you noticed anything else?”

I’m about to shake my head no, when I remember the mist. “Actually, I can’t believe none of us remembered this and brought it up yet. The mist is somewhat sentient.” Silene and Fionn look at me in confusion. “It… reacted when we walked into it, remember? It—I don’t know—it caressed my face, like it was trying to figure me out. And it had an energy to it, like it was welcoming us in.”

After a few beats, Silene says, “That didn’t happen to me. It was just a thick mist.”

“Same here,” Fionn says. “Maybe you just have a thing for mist.”

“I do not!” I exclaim. “It definitely touched me.”

“And where would you say that it touched you?” Fionn croons, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes.

“Not like that, you bastard!” I yell, pushing him out of his seat. He grins widely at me, then heads back to the bar to get another round of drinks.

Silene furrows her brow, staring absentmindedly in concentration. “We need to learn more about the Sons and Daughters of Thayaria,” she murmurs. “Figure out why they think she practices witchcraft, and whether the leaders of the group are genuinely afraid of her or whether they’re just using a convenient narrative to take power for themselves.”

“Agreed. It doesn’t appear the attack has made anyone more fearful,” I say, looking around the room at the continuous cheering and conversing of the patrons. “I think it’s time we do a little mingling. Get to know the locals.” I stand just as Fionn returns with a fresh pint of ale.

“Are we leaving?” he asks.

“No,” I tell him. “Just going to stretch my legs a little and see if I can make any new friends.”

“He’s mingling,” Silene mocks. “And I want to go on the record saying this is a bad idea. You may be many things, Thorne Vicant, but a commoner is not one of them. These people are going to spot you for who you are instantly.”