A Good Man Awakens

Chapter 22: The Adept

The sun hung high overhead, casting a warm, steady heat across the lower fields. I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow and glanced up at the sky, taking a moment to rest against the handle of the hoe. The earth smelled rich beneath my boots, and the steady rhythm of farm work helped dull the constant hum of tension that had been chipping away at me for weeks.

It had been a while since we'd had any trouble from Grayden or the enforcers, and for that, I was thankful. Life on the farm had slowly returned to something close to normal after Jacob's death, but the absence of his presence was still a weight we all carried. The farm was quieter without him, and yet, the oppressive shadow of the Ministry still loomed. They were always watching, waiting for a reason to strike.

I glanced toward the distant treeline, where the orchard met the edge of the lower fields. Ged and Reece were up at the house, working on repairs to the roof. Sophia had been in and out of the barn all day, tending to the animals. Her laughter—so rare since Jacob's death—echoed faintly across the field, a sound that lifted the weight from my chest, even if only for a moment.

Over the past few months, I'd grown closer to her. I had told her more stories about Smoke, some real, some embellished, just to bring that smile back to her face. I would make up tales of the old man outwitting giants or sneaking into the halls of kings, always managing to turn the tides in his favor. She loved those stories, always asking for more. It made her forget the pain, if only for a little while.

I slammed the hoe back into the soil, my muscles tensing as I tried to shake off the feeling of unease. This farm—this life—wasn't meant for me. I've been thinking about it more and more lately. Once I'd healed fully, I'd planned to leave, to go somewhere far from the Ministry's reach. Maybe even beyond the Veil, to some place where I wouldn't have to hide what I was. But now... now it didn't feel like leaving was an option. Not after Jacob's death, and certainly not with Sophia so dependent on my protection.

The rustling of leaves caught my attention, and I straightened, my eyes narrowing as a figure stepped out from the treeline. The man was cloaked in the dark, flowing robes of the Ministry—a sign of his station. His presence alone sent a shiver down my spine, though he looked different from the enforcers who usually came to collect taxes. No, this was someone else.

An Adept.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. Adepts were higher up in the Ministry's ranks, wielders of justice who served as both judges and executioners when it came to matters of arcane law. The very fact that he was here, on the farm, meant trouble.

He walked toward me with purpose, his eyes locked on mine. There was something cold, calculating in his gaze, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I gripped the handle of the hoe a little tighter, a bead of sweat trickling down my spine.

"You," the Adept said, his voice low but firm. "I'm looking for Sophia."

The Adept's eyes flickered with a predatory gleam as he approached. He stopped just short of me, the midday sun casting long shadows across his black robes.

"You're working hard, I see," he said, his voice dripping with false pleasantries. His eyes weren't on me, though—they kept darting toward the farmhouse, toward where Sophia would be. "It must be nice, this quiet life. But I've heard some troubling things as of late."

I didn't like where this was going. I straightened. "What kind of trouble?"

He smiled, and it wasn't the kind of smile that put you at ease. It was the kind of smile that made your stomach twist. "I've come to inquire about a girl. A certain Sophia, I believe she lives here, does she not?"