[Location: Camelot – Lower City, Dusk]
Ren moved in the opposite direction, cloak drawn tight.
Every shout in the distance made his pulse jump.
He'd spent the last two days learning how to compress his mana, to hide the faint glow that sometimes leaked through his skin when he was tired. Merlin had helped him seal it, but it took concentration — the kind he couldn't afford to lose right now.
At the corner of a market alley, two guards questioned a fruit vendor. Ren slipped behind a stack of barrels, tracing faint sigils in the air to mask his heat signature.
The spell held — mostly. His mana still flickered slightly, not syncing perfectly with this world's energy field. It wasn't faulty casting, just a mismatch — like forcing one current to flow through a grid built for another.
He exhaled slowly, steadying his hands.
One world at a time, he reminded himself.
[Location: Castle Courtyard – Same Time]
Morgana stood beside Arthur, watching the squads move out.
"This is unnecessary," she said quietly. "You're terrorizing people for rumors."
Arthur adjusted his gloves. "Two guards were nearly burned alive. Father believes it's a new sorcerer hiding in the city."
"And what do you believe?" she asked.
Arthur hesitated, then looked away. "I believe Camelot's laws are what keep us alive."
Her lips curved faintly. "Even if they destroy the people they're meant to protect?"
Before Arthur could answer, Uther's voice echoed from the stairway — cold, commanding.
"Morgana. You will stay within the castle until this matter is resolved. I won't risk your safety."
She bowed slightly, the perfect image of obedience. "Of course, my lord."
But her eyes followed the patrols leaving the gate — and she was already planning how to slip past them.
[Location: Lower City – Old Clock Tower Ruins]
Ren crouched near the broken arch of a forgotten tower, studying the runes etched into the stone.
Merlin had given him a parchment that morning — old Camelot sigils for light and propulsion magic. They looked simple, but the moment he tried them, the energy turned unstable.
He tried again now, whispering the incantation while adjusting his mana flow.
A faint circle formed in the air.
He moved his hand, and the circle flared — then cracked apart with a loud pop, leaving a scorch mark on the wall.
Ren winced. "Still too much charge."
He'd been experimenting all evening, trying to develop something usable for self-defense without triggering another city-wide search.
The night deepened — quiet except for the sound of boots somewhere nearby. Too close.
He turned toward the noise, ready to run — but stopped.
A figure stepped into the half-light of the ruins, cloak brushing the ground.
[Location: Old Clock Tower Ruins – Continuous]
Morgana lowered her hood, eyes sharp and unreadable.
Ren's pulse jumped. She didn't look armed, but that didn't mean she wasn't dangerous.
"You're not a local," she said simply.
Ren stayed silent.
"I saw that light two nights ago," she continued. "The one the guards are hunting. It came from you."
He exhaled through his nose. "Then you should've told them."
She tilted her head slightly. "I don't make a habit of condemning strangers without reason. Especially ones who can control magic."
Ren froze.
She'd said it — magic — openly, without fear.
"You shouldn't say that word so easily here," he muttered.
"I've learned to say what others are afraid of," Morgana replied. "Tell me, how long do you think you can keep hiding? The King's inquisitors are already searching the lower city."
Ren's eyes narrowed. "You're Uther's ward. Why warn me?"
A faint smile touched her lips. "Because I'm not him."
The air between them felt heavy — not hostile, but tense. Ren could feel her mana subtly radiating under her skin, faint but real. She wasn't guessing. She knew.
Before he could reply, a horn sounded in the distance — the signal of a guard sweep.
Morgana's expression hardened. "They'll search this area next. Come with me."
Ren hesitated. Trust wasn't his first instinct.
But the sound of boots grew louder, echoing against stone.
He nodded once. "Lead the way."
[Location: Abandoned Catacombs Beneath the City – Later That Night]
The tunnels were damp and cold, lit only by the occasional torch Morgana carried.
She moved with practiced ease, taking turns without hesitation. Ren followed, still scanning the walls for faint mana traces.
They finally stopped in a wider chamber — empty except for scattered relics and carved stones. Morgana set down the torch and turned to him.
"You hide your power well," she said. "But it feels… different. Like it doesn't belong here."
Ren leaned against the wall. "It's complicated."
"I have time."
He studied her — calm, confident, and more perceptive than most magicians he'd met.
If she sensed the quantum nature of his mana, she didn't name it. But the curiosity in her eyes said enough.
After a moment, he replied, "Let's just say I'm trying to survive the same way you are."
Morgana's expression softened slightly. "Then maybe you should stop doing it alone."
Before he could respond, the sound of armored boots echoed through the tunnels — faint, but closing in.
Both froze.
Ren instinctively raised his hand, mana gathering — small, focused this time.
Morgana's eyes widened slightly. "You can fight?"
"Learning to," he said quietly. "Fast."
She smirked faintly. "Then this will be good practice."
[Author's Note]
This chapter marks Ren's first real alliance beyond Merlin and Gaius — Morgana's connection begins here, built on shared secrecy and quiet defiance of Uther's rule.