"Well, you're quite sharp for a brat, aren't ya?"

  One man stepped forward from the shadows.

  Two more emerged behind Vlad and Maelis, boots scraping lightly against stone.

  They were surrounded.

  Vlad instinctively stepped in front of his sister.

  "I'll protect you, Sister."

  The thieves burst into laughter.

  The one in front wiped at his eye. "Hear that? The little hero's gonna protect her."

  Maelis didn't pull him back.

  Instead, she spoke evenly. "We don't want any trouble. If it's money you want, I'll give it to you."

  The leader tilted his head.

  "Don't worry. We don't want trouble either." His smile widened. "We just want the both of you to follow these uncles to the slave market. Easy money for us."

  The two behind them moved closer.

  One rested a heavy hand on Vlad's shoulder.

  "You'll help these uncles, right?" he said mockingly.

  Vlad froze.

  Slave market.

  The word hit colder than the alley air.

  His chest tightened.

  He was scared.

  He could feel it in his fingers — trembling, weak.

  But he couldn't let them touch her.

  He wouldn't.

  "Wind Thrust," he whispered.

  He drove his palm backward into the man behind him.

  A burst of compressed air exploded outward.

  The thief staggered back — boots scraping — but he didn't fall. He was only pushed a few steps away.

  "Huh." The man straightened, cracking his neck. "The little brat knows magic."

  The other two stopped smiling.

  The thieves spread out, tightening the circle.

  No exit.

  "Don't hit them too much," the leader warned casually. "Bruises lower the price."

  Vlad's hand shook harder now.

  He had trained.

  He had practiced.

  But these were grown men.

  Maelis noticed.

  Without looking at him, she reached for his hand and squeezed once — firm, grounding.

  "I'll bind them," she whispered. "You focus on attacking."

  He swallowed.

  Then nodded.

  She stepped forward slightly, her free hand lowering toward the ground.

  The air shifted.

  Thin streams of wind began curling around the thieves' ankles — subtle, almost invisible.

  Vlad forced his trembling to stop.

  He stretched his hand toward the nearest man.

  "Fireball."

  Flame gathered at his palm — small and unstable

  He launched it.

  The thief reacted quickly.

  "Wind Shield."

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  A spiraling barrier formed in front of him, deflecting the fire in a burst of sparks that scattered against the alley walls.

  Smoke curled between them.

  The leader grinned slowly.

  "Looks like you want to put up a fight."

  The wind around their feet tightened.

  Maelis' eyes sharpened.

  The alley was too narrow for comfort, the walls pressing close as the three men spread out and began to circle.

  Maelis stepped slightly in front of Vlad without thinking. "Stay with me," she murmured, her fingers already curling as she felt the stone beneath her feet.

  The first man lunged.

  Maelis stamped down and the ground answered her, splitting upward in a rough ridge that forced him to stumble sideways. Vlad reacted a heartbeat later, thrusting his palm forward. Wind burst out unevenly but strong enough to shove the man back several steps, his boots scraping harshly across stone.

  Another shadow moved at the edge of Vlad's vision.

  "Left," Maelis said quickly.

  He turned too wide, nearly losing his balance, and lightning snapped from his hand. It struck the second man's forearm. The smell of burnt cloth filled the air as he recoiled, shaking out his arm with a hiss.

  The third slipped past the broken stone.

  Maelis lifted both hands this time, and the alley floor rippled beneath him. The shift wasn't clean, just enough to throw off his footing. Vlad inhaled sharply and released fire toward him. The flames forced the man to guard, sparks scattering against the wall as heat flashed briefly through the tight space.

  They were landing hits.

  But the men were adjusting.

  A fist drove into Vlad's shoulder and sent him stumbling back. The blow wasn't full strength, but it hurt. He forced himself upright before panic could settle in and answered with another burst of wind that pushed the attacker away.

  "Don't back up," Maelis said, not harsh — just steady.

  He nodded, breath shaking.

  The alley filled with dust and shifting stone. Maelis kept the ground uneven, breaking their rhythm whenever she could. Vlad followed her cues as best he could, wind when they rushed, lightning when they slipped too close, fire when they clustered. Some of his strikes landed cleanly; others missed entirely, scattering against brick or bursting against guarded air.

  It felt less like winning and more like holding something back with bare hands.

  Then one of the men stopped playing.

  He straightened slowly, irritation flashing across his face as he brushed dust from his sleeve. The air around him tightened, subtle at first, then sharp enough that Vlad felt it press against his skin.

  Maelis sensed it a moment too late.

  "Vlad—"

  The man bent at the knees.

  The space he occupied distorted, like heat above a flame.

  And then he was gone.

  Vlad's stomach dropped. The alley seemed to tilt.

  A violent rush of air tore past him.

  Maelis had only begun to turn when the man appeared at her side, momentum already carrying through his strike. The kick landed hard against her ribs, amplified by speed she couldn't brace against. The force lifted her clear off her feet and hurled her into the wall.

  Stone cracked loudly on impact.

  Dust burst outward as she slid down and hit the ground.

  "Maelis!"

  Vlad took a step toward her.

  He didn't see the other man move.

  A rough hand seized his cloak at the collar and yanked him backward. His feet left the ground before he could gather mana. He was thrown across the alley, his back slamming into stone hard enough to drive the air from his lungs.

  The world rang.

  For a moment he couldn't breathe.

  Across from him, Maelis pushed herself up slowly, one hand braced against fractured brick. A thin line of blood ran from her temple, tracing down the side of her face. She swayed but didn't fall.

  Vlad forced himself to stand.

  His shoulder throbbed. His back burned. His vision blurred with tears he couldn't stop.

  But he stepped in front of her anyway.

  He didn't know what spell to use next.

  He only knew he couldn't move aside.

  The men approached again, slower now.

  And Vlad stood there, crying — and still refusing to let them pass.

  "I'll protect her. No matter what. Even if my body breaks apart."

  Vlad's vision blurred as tears slipped down his face.

  [Sylvie… help me.]

  His fingers trembled as he lifted his hand.

  "W–wind…"

  One of the men stepped forward, laughing loudly.

  "Are you going to use that weak wind thrust again? Is that all you learned?"

  He crouched right in front of Vlad, smirking, a translucent wind shield already forming around his arm.

  "Go ahead. I'll even let you hit me once. A reward for trying so hard."

  Maelis grabbed Vlad's sleeve, her voice shaking but steady.

  "I'll slow them. Run when you see an opening."

  Vlad clenched his jaw so hard it hurt.

  "No. I will protect you. No matter what."

  The man burst into laughter.

  "Let's see what our little hero can do."

  He leaned closer, shield fully formed, confident, ready to block the same harmless spell.

  But this time—

  The air changed.

  It thickened.

  It pressed inward.

  Sylvie's presence flowed into Vlad like a second heartbeat — too large, too powerful for his small body to contain. Veins along his neck darkened. Blood slid from the corner of his mouth and dripped onto the dirt.

  His trembling stopped.

  "Wind… Burst."

  He didn't shout it.

  The air around his hand collapsed inward violently, dragging dust, loose stones, and even sound itself toward a single point.

  Then it exploded forward.

  The impact was not wind.

  It was force.

  The man's shield shattered instantly — torn apart like paper in a storm.

  The blast struck his left side.

  There was a deafening crack.

  For a split second his body lifted sideways, twisting unnaturally in the air — and then half of him simply wasn't there anymore.

  He hit the ground hard.

  Blood spread rapidly beneath him, dark and heavy against the dirt.

  He did not move.

  The laughter was gone.

  The other two thieves stared, their faces draining of color.

  Vlad swayed.

  The wind died immediately, leaving only ringing silence.

  Drawing Sylvie's power again would tear him apart from the inside. He could feel it — something inside him had split open.

  Maelis caught him before he collapsed.

  "That's enough."

  The voice came from behind the thieves.

  They stiffened.

  "How about uncles play with big sister for a while?"

  Lysera stepped forward casually, placing one hand on each of their heads before they could react.

  "Close your eyes," she said gently to Vlad and Maelis, smiling at them as if nothing was wrong.

  They obeyed.

  "Strengthen."

  The word was soft.

  What followed was not.

  A sharp, crushing impact echoed through the alley — once, twice — followed by broken screams that ended too quickly.

  Even with their eyes shut, Vlad and Maelis knew.

  The sound of skulls colliding with each other under overwhelming force rang in their ears.

  Then silence.

  A wave of heat brushed past them.

  When Lysera spoke again, her voice was light.

  "You can open them."

  There was nothing left but scorched ground and drifting ash.

  Vlad stumbled forward first, wrapping his arms around her. Maelis followed immediately, clinging to Lysera.

  Lysera rested a hand on each of their heads.

  "Let's go home now, shall we?"