Spero's Arc

Chapter 8 of 10

The next morning Spero met the squad by an old well. Their leader stepped forward first. Rebecca wore a white uniform with silver buttons, and she stood like someone used to being obeyed. She looked Spero over with sharp brown eyes. "New blood," she said. "Tell me who you are before I trust you at my back." Spero's throat went dry. He had a story ready. "My mother died when I was small," he said. "There was a fire. After that I was alone with my sister." He pulled the worn token from his pocket and held it out. Its edges were soft with age, its markings official-looking. "They put us in an orphanage. Then we got split up. That's who I'm looking for." Rebecca took the token and turned it over. Spero's heart pounded. Half his story was true. His mother, the fire, his sister. The orphanage was a lie, and the token was a fake he had bought in a back stall. He watched her thumb trace the stamped shield. "You spelled trouble the moment you walked up," she said. Then her hard face softened. "But I know that look. I grew up without a family too." She handed the token back. "You're not from this district. Your accent's off. Somewhere east, I'd guess." "Somewhere like that," Spero said. He kept his eyes down. One of the younger boys leaned in. "He never says where, though. Been asking him all week." He grinned at Spero. "Come on. What guild raised you? Who trained you to fight like that?" Spero froze. If he named a guild, the boy would dig. One thread led to Valeria. One wrong word and someone would remember a green-haired boy who traveled with a wanted knight. His hands wanted to shake. He pressed them flat against his legs. Rebecca held up a hand before Spero could answer. "Enough," she told the boy. "When I was on the street, nobody asked me my history. They fed me and let me prove myself. That's how it works here." The boy shut his mouth and looked away. She studied Spero's face, the shadows under his eyes. "You're half dead on your feet. Eat first." She pressed a heel of bread into his hand. "Then you spar with me. I want to see what you've got, not hear about it." Relief flooded Spero, sharp and sudden. The question was buried. No one would push it again while Rebecca stood watch. But guilt came right behind the relief. She had shared something true, orphan to orphan, and every kindness she gave him rested on his lie. He ate the bread. It stuck in his throat. "Thank you," he said, and meant it more than she knew. She had shielded him without knowing she protected the one thing that could destroy them both. He gripped the fake token in his pocket and swore he would find his sister before the truth ever caught up.