"Dangerous place for a lady," one of the thieves sneered. "But don't worry, we'll take good care of you."

  I kept my head down, my black veil hiding the white porcelain mask that covered the area where my eyes should have been. The sound of their boots on wet stone drew closer. My fingers tightened around Kolin's wrapped sword.

  "Hand over that fancy package and whatever coin you got, and maybe we'll let you walk away."

  In one fluid motion, I spun around. The first thief's eyes widened as I swung the bundled sword in a perfect arc. The heavy pommel caught him square in the temple with a dull thud. Before his companions could react, I stepped forward, mechanical legs propelling me with inhuman speed.

  The second thief raised a rusty dagger. I knocked it aside with my free hand and brought the wrapped sword down on top of his head. He crumpled without a sound.

  The last one turned to run. I caught him by the collar, yanked him back, and delivered a precise strike to the base of his skull. He joined his friends on the grimy cobblestones.

  I stood over their unconscious forms, sword raised for a killing blow. They were parasites, preying on those weaker than themselves. The world would be better off without them. My mechanical arm tensed, ready to strike.

  Kolin's screams echoed inside my mind. The sound of bones breaking, flesh tearing. The way his blood had pooled beneath my combat chassis as I cut him open, slowly and precisely.

  The wrapped sword trembled in my grip.

  No. I wouldn't. I couldn't.

  I lowered the weapon, shame and guilt churning inside me. These men deserved punishment, but I had no right to be their executioner. Not after what I had done to Kolin.

  I checked their pulses finding all three steady and strong. They'd wake with splitting headaches, but nothing more. Perhaps the experience would teach them to choose a different path. Or perhaps not. Either way, their fate wasn't mine to decide.

  I hurried through Orengaad's darkening streets, keeping to the main thoroughfares where lanterns cast pools of yellow light. My mechanical legs carried me swiftly past the evening crowds. Merchants were closing up shop, workers heading to taverns, and guards beginning their night patrols.

  The encounter in the alley had shaken me more than I cared to admit. Not the fight itself; that had been almost disappointingly simple. No, it was the moment after, when I'd stood poised to end their lives. The temptation had been there, cold and familiar. The same drive that had led me to tear Kolin apart.

  A group of adventurers stumbled out of a tavern ahead. I adjusted my veil and gave them wide berth. Their boisterous laughter followed me down the street as they compared tales of recent monster hunts.

  The Scholar's Rest appeared around the corner, its weathered sign creaking gently in the evening breeze. Light spilled from its windows, warm and inviting. The complete opposite of the dank alley I'd left behind.

  I slipped through the front door, nodding to the innkeeper who barely glanced up from her ledger. My room was on the second floor, tucked away at the end of a quiet hallway. I inserted the key into the lock, listening for the satisfying click before stepping inside.

  The familiar space helped ease some of the tension from my frame. I carefully set Kolin's wrapped sword against the wall and began removing the outer layers of my disguise. The black dress, the gloves, the veil, all of it crafted to hide what lay beneath. My steel and bronze parts gleamed dully in the fading daylight.

  I moved to the window, scanning the street below. No sign of pursuit. Those thieves wouldn't be following anyone for several hours at least. Still, I drew the heavy curtains closed. Better to be cautious.

  The Iron Trail caravan would depart at first light. I needed to prepare for the journey to Kaldos City, but first, my chassis required maintenance after the brief skirmish. I sat at the room's small desk and began the meticulous process of checking each joint and connection.

  I flexed my mechanical fingers, satisfied with the maintenance work. The joints moved smoothly now, without the slight catch that had developed during the alley fight. I settled onto the bed, the frame creaking under my body's weight.

  Madam Voss's words about the Iron Trail caravan played through my mind. North gate at dawn. If the company had a solid reputation then they wouldn't turn away a paying customer, even one dressed in full mourning.

  My hand reached into my Depository and pulled out the coin purse, placing it at my side. Seven hundred silver from the dragon parts would more than cover the fare, even if they charged extra for a private wagon. And I would need that privacy; maintaining this widow disguise around others for days on end would be challenging enough without trying to hide my maintenance routine.

  The alternative made my circuits pulse with unease. Traveling alone through the Kingdom of Swords? Those thieves in the alley were low level rank amateurs, barely worth noting. But out on the open road? I'd heard whispers as I passed through the marketplace about bandits who preyed on solitary travelers. Deserters from the kingdom's armies, armed with military training and desperate enough to attack anyone.

  I touched the wrapped sword leaning against the wall. Yes, I could fight. The thieves had proven that much. But every fight was a risk, and not just of damage to my chassis, but of revealing what I truly was. One torn dress, one slipped veil, and my carefully crafted disguise would crumble.

  No, it was better to travel with the caravan. Safety in numbers, as the humans said. And the less attention I drew to myself, the better chance I had of reaching the Academy unnoticed.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Dawn's gray light filtered through my window. I'd spent the night in a corner, my body propped against the wall as I checked each part in a thorough diagnostic routine. The inn had grown quiet, most of its scholarly residents still asleep.

  I adjusted my mourning dress, ensuring every mechanical part remained hidden. The veil settled over my face, its black mesh obscuring my features while still allowing me to see clearly. My wrapped sword I secured against the dress's voluminous skirts, hidden beneath my long black cloak.

  The innkeeper looked up from her ledger as I approached the front desk. Her weathered face creased with sympathy at my black attire.

  "Safe travels, dear." She accepted the brass key, adding it to a row of hooks on the wall. "May the gods ease your grief."

  I bowed my head in acknowledgment, maintaining my mute facade as I stepped out into the pre-dawn chill.

  The north gate bustled with activity despite the early hour. Merchants shouted orders as workers loaded wagons. Horses stamped and snorted, their breath steaming in the cool air. I moved through the chaos, scanning each caravan for the Iron Trail company's banner.

  A sapien woman directed a string of pack mules past me. Two halfling brothers argued over a manifest. An elven ranger checked his bow's string while perched atop a wagon. But no sign of Iron Trail.

  Thirty minutes of searching passed before I spotted their symbol (a silver path winding through mountains) painted on the side of a well-maintained wagon. The trail captain, a broad-shouldered dwarf with iron-gray hair, barked instructions to his crew.

  I pulled paper and charcoal from my Depository, careful to keep the movement hidden within my sleeves. My writing was precise as I passed him the note: I seek passage to Kaldos City with your caravan.

  The captain's thick eyebrows drew together as he read. "Last minute additions throw off my logistics." He scratched his beard. "Fifty silver. That's just for the ride. You provide your own food and water. Take it or leave it."

  I nodded and counted out the coins. The price was steep for such short notice, but I had little choice. Better to pay extra than risk traveling alone.

  The dwarf led me past three heavily-laden wagons to a fourth near the back of the caravan. He pulled back the canvas flap, revealing stacks of wooden barrels that filled most of the space.

  "Wine shipment for the capital." He patted one of the barrels. "Got a small space here in the corner. Mind the cargo! Those barrels are worth more than you paid for passage."

  I climbed in, my mechanical legs easily finding purchase on the wagon bed. The space was indeed tight, barely large enough for me to sit with my back against the corner post. My wrapped sword I kept close, wedged between two barrels where I could easily reach it.

  The smell of wine permeated the enclosed space, seeping through the wood. Not that it bothered me, which was another advantage of this form. I adjusted my skirts, ensuring no metal showed beneath the black fabric.

  "We stop twice a day." The dwarf's beard twitched. "Dawn and dusk. Handle your business then. Anyone causes trouble, you tell me or my guards." He gestured to two sapiens standing nearby, both wearing leather armor with Iron Trail badges. "We don't tolerate nonsense on our runs."

  I nodded my understanding. He secured the canvas flap, leaving me in dim light filtered through the thick fabric. The wagon creaked as he walked away, his voice carrying orders to prepare for departure.

  More creaking followed as cargo shifted in neighboring wagons. Wheels groaned against cobblestones. Drivers called to their horses. The caravan was moving.

  My wagon lurched forward, the motion causing the barrels to bump against each other. I braced myself against the corner post, grateful for my mechanical strength. The wine barrels were indeed valuable cargo as each one bore the seal of the Silver Vine Vineyards; even in Weath the company was famous for their premium vintages.

  The wagon rattled through Orengaad's streets. I caught glimpses of the city through gaps in the canvas: storefronts opening for the day, early risers hurrying about their business, guards changing shifts at their posts. Then we passed through the north gate, its shadow briefly darkening my space before bright morning sun streamed through the canvas again.

  The cobblestones gave way to packed dirt. The wagon's motion smoothed somewhat, though each bump still sent vibrations through my chassis. I could hear snippets of conversation from the drivers, discussing weather and road conditions ahead.

  I settled into my corner, preparing for the long journey. According to the travel notices I'd seen posted in Orengaad, the trip to Kaldos City would take at least two weeks by wagon. Two weeks of maintaining this disguise, of careful movements to hide my true nature, of sitting silent among these wine barrels.

  But it was safer than traveling alone. And each mile brought me closer to the Academy, the place where I could find sanctuary from Duke Redflight's forces.

  The rhythmic sway of the wagon made it easy to drift into thoughts of what lay ahead. The War Academy. It was a place of legend, where the greatest warriors in history had been trained. My fragmented memories held no clues or glimpses of the school at all, not of its founding, nor its history, not even its name. What would I find there, I wondered.

  I pictured classrooms filled with young warriors learning sword forms, training yards echoing with the clash of steel. But surely there had to be more. Even the greatest fighter needed to know strategy, needed to read maps and calculate supply lines.

  Mallie would have excelled there. The thought came unbidden, bringing with it a sharp ache in my chest. She'd been so eager to learn, her green eyes lighting up whenever I explained how things worked. I remembered her sitting cross-legged in the barn, watching intently as I demonstrated some simple machines that I had created.

  "So the wheel makes it easier to lift heavy things?" She'd bounced on her heels, gap-toothed smile flashing. "Like how Pa uses the pulley to get hay up to the loft?"

  Exactly. I'd drawn diagrams in the dirt, showing her how forces worked together. She'd absorbed it all, asking clever questions that showed real understanding.

  She would have brought that same enthusiasm to her studies at the Academy. I could see her now, racing between classes with her bow slung across her back, staying late in the library to study battle tactics, making friends with everyone she met. That was just her way. That girl had never met a stranger, only friends she hadn't talked to yet.

  But she'd never get that chance. She'd never walk those halls or learn those lessons. Because of one man's cruelty, all her potential had been cut short. All those possible futures, that of scholar, warrior, leader; all were snuffed out in an instant.

  The wagon hit a deep rut, jostling the wine barrels around me. The sharp movement pulled me from my dark thoughts, and I was grateful for it. Dwelling on what might have been only deepened the guilt I carried. I couldn't change what had happened to Mallie. But I could honor her memory by helping others avoid her fate.

  That's what the Academy could offer me: not just a safe haven, but a chance to grow stronger, to learn how to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. If I could master my abilities there, maybe I could prevent other bright young lives from being extinguished too soon.

  Yes, that was it. A purpose beyond mere survival. The Academy would give me the tools, the knowledge, the power to make a difference. To ensure no other child suffered Mallie's fate at the hands of men like Duke Redflight.

  The thought of the Duke made my insides pulse with renewed determination. He sat in his manor now, believing himself untouchable, protected by wealth and status and the power of his name. How many others had he hurt? How many families lived in fear of his whims?

  My hand tightened on Kolin's wrapped sword. The weapon that had failed to protect its previous owner now had a new purpose. Through it, I would learn the arts of combat taught at the War Academy. Master techniques that would let me face any threat, no matter how powerful.

  And when I was ready, I would return to Weath. Not as a fugitive monster hiding in shadows, but as a warrior strong enough to stand against those who abused their power. The people there deserved better than to live under the Duke's shadow.

  The weight that had pressed against my chassis since leaving Weath lifted. Having a clear goal, a direction to channel my growing abilities; it centered me in a way I hadn't expected. The Academy wasn't just an escape anymore. It was a stepping stone toward something greater.