374, 89th of the harvest season, Late night, Elven outcast village, Inn

  Paulida pulled a small flashlight with an exposed sealstone where the switch used to be from his backpack. He said, “arm.” Rosario sat on the edge of the bed. The room in the inn was smaller than his room at the Lorea Manor and still had room for two beds and a chair. Rosario held out his arm, the sleeve of his black sweater rolled up, “flex your arm, please”. He flexed his arm in response, and Paulida shone the pale blue light on the exposed arm. Paulida said quietly in his deep voice, “No venous mana reaction, hmm”. Rosario said, “Should there be a reaction?” Paulida said, “If you're like her, then yeah, there should be.” Paulida gestured for Senarre to come over from the other bed, where she was lying flat on her back. Staring at the ceiling, throwing and catching a 10x25 casing, clearly bored she had changed out of her previous attire now sporting a tanktop her self professed lifetime of drifting was visible on her left shoulder via a small scar in the shape of a circle, likely from a bullet wound also adorning her left hand was a scar that bore the shape of a blade. She sprang up and quickly moved to sit next to Rosario and held her arm up. Paulida held her hand and shone the light over her arm. Unlike when he shone the light over Rosario's arm, this time the light revealed what the naked eye could not see: a series of patterns tracing the flow of the circulatory system beneath the skin.

  Paulida said, “That's what it should look like if you're like her, explicitly to my knowledge, granted I'm no healer or scholar.” Rosario was now intrigued by this explanation and spectacle. “Why does it glow under the light?” Paulida shifted his weight in his chair and leaned back, “As I said, I'm no healer or scholar, but my operational theory is that the gifted have a standard higher than average background level of mana being generated in their bodies, but I can't confirm or deny it.” Rosario said “why not go to a healer or someone with the equipment for a more in depth analysis?” Paulida visibly shifted a small amount and scratched the back of his head, shifting his dreads slightly “you see the life of a bounty worker is a dangerous one and the less paper trail you leave behind the better cause when you cross as many people as you do in the business there's always the odds that they or someone associated with them is looking for a little retribution at the end of a barrel”. Rosario could feel that the energy in the room shifted from his question and decided to drop the topic.

  Senarre had already moved back to the other bed and continued tossing and catching the shell casing. “You have scars?” Rosario asked her, she rolled over onto her side, the little brass casing falling gently onto the sheets next to her, “and you don't?” He let out a small smirk and said, “Matter of fact, I do.” he reached up and grabbed at the neckline of his sweater and pulled it down slightly. He had a small, long-since-healed mark near his right collarbone. The mark was small and faded, but it still bore the markings of burns caused by electrical discharge, like small snaking lightning bolts, “sparring with my brother.” Senarre pointed to her left shoulder, “gunfight with slavers outside of Morriak.” Rosario turned around and rolled up his sweater about halfway, exposing his back, with more burn marks this time, like those from fire, “from when my sister chased me around the manor when I was a kid.” Senarre held her out the scar on the back of it, clearly visible, “guess.” Rosario thought for a brief moment, “swordfight?” She chuckled and said. “I'm not too good with blades.” Rosario said, “So why do you have the scars?” Senarres' face twisted into a puzzled expression. “What do you mean?” his own face shifted to a mix of surprise and curiosity. “At least in my experience, most of the nobles of mine and the branch families will go out of their way to go to skilled healers to patch up the wounds with no traces, do you not through such lengths?” Senarre smiled and said, “All of these precious scars of mine are healed the old-fashioned way.” He thought for a moment, “except my mother and brother, I guess.” Senarre moved from lying on her side on the bed to sitting with her legs crossed and head tilted in an inquisitive stare. “Why don't they heal theirs?” Rosario thought for a moment, “he told me once that before Hana and I were born, when he was the sole heir, they got attacked by would-be assassins, and apparently, when they fought back, he was cut on the cheek. To make a long story short, Mom told him to carry his scars like a mark of victory from that day onwards.” Senarre said, “they sound like warriors.” Rosario’s mana spiked a sensation of melancholia that assaulted the woman's senses. He cleared his throat. “They are, Mom was called the mortal blade of the Lorea before she had us,”

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  “No shit,” Senarre said, “your mom was the Yaren, the mortal blade.” Rosario pulled back, surprised, “How do you know her name?” Senarres' face shifted to a smile. “She is like at the top of consideration for the swordswomen to ever live; they say her technique was supposed to be so peerless that she was taught by the god blades herself.” Rosario was surprised by her enthusiasm. He could sense a feeling of joy and intrigue from her. He could almost classify it as a fan's excitement, “said she teach you any swordsmanship?” She paused briefly, “Is that why you picked a sword?" He let out a slight sigh, “Nah, she didn't teach me anything; my brother is the one who taught me even to hold a sword.” Senarre said,” I knew I liked something about you, Lorea.”

  Paulida sat in his chair quietly, watching the two exchange casual conversation. He felt at peace seeing his charge engage in conversation with others that wasn't for either business or to deal with a threat. He felt especially proud of the fact that the one she was conversing with was a peer around her age. He leaned back and gave a brief smile the two sitting on the beds in front of him did not notice. They were lost in their conversation. He placed his hands on his knees, forcing himself up, and said in his deep, booming voice, “Lights out, we're gonna be up at dawn tomorrow. I put us down for a K/C order contract.” Senarre stopped mid-sentence and held up her scarred left hand mimicking a salute and said, “Yes, sir.” She stood up briefly and pulled the blanket off the bed, and threw herself into it, covering herself with the blanket rapidly. Rosario, on the other hand, stood up calmly and quietly pulled the blanket back carefully and said to Paulida, “You get the bed?” The big man said, “No thanks,” he rubbed his back and said, “grounds better for my back.” Rosario could see through his lie, but decided to take his statement at face value as he could feel the kindness radiating from the big man's mana. He lay down on the bed and covered himself with the blanket, and closed his eyes before drifting off to sleep. He thought about the last few days and how he went from a noble to a fugitive. He continued to think until sleep finally claimed him, granting respite to his tired mind and body