Nero nodded to himself. Tomorrow after classes, he'd head to the cave, retrieve the treasure, and then visit his... contact. Get the ball rolling on acquiring the ingredients. Simple enough plan.
He got into bed, crossed his arms behind his head, and stared at the ceiling.
Minutes ticked by.
More minutes ticked by.
Nero was lying there, having literally traveled back through time after watching the world end, carrying the weight of preventing that future on his shoulders, and he was supposed to just... go to sleep?
"No!" he shouted, then immediately winced at the volume.
This was ridiculous.
He needed to go to that cave right now. What if someone else found it first? Which was, objectively speaking, completely absurd - the treasure wouldn't be discovered for another two years, and he hadn't told a soul about it. But still. STILL.
He was already pulling on his boots before his rational mind could catch up with his paranoia. Sometimes the only way to quiet an irrational fear was to do something equally irrational about it.
Getting out of school was surprisingly easy. Nothing technically prevented students from leaving as long as they had a valid reason, and "feeling unwell" was as good as any. The nurse barely glanced at him before signing his permission slip.
It was late afternoon. In any other circumstances, Nero might have paused to take in the sight of Xerkes - the floating pavilions drifting lazily above the city's spires, the familiar streets he hadn't walked in decades, the merchants closing their shops for the day.
But not today. He just grabbed the forty silver pieces he knew he always kept in his drawer and headed straight for the merchant district.
He ran, cursing his younger body's poor stamina, a simple run left him winded. He spotted a shop called 'Garrett's' just as the merchant was pulling down his shutters.
"Wait!" Nero called out between gasps, doubling over with his hands on his knees. "Please... just... one moment."
Garrett - or so Nero assumed his name was - paused, one eyebrow raised as he watched Nero struggle to catch his breath. He was a stocky man with calloused hands and laugh lines around his eyes.
"We're closing, boy," he said, though he didn't continue with the shutters. "Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow."
"Dimensional bags," Nero wheezed. "The cheapest ones you have. It's for a school project at Xerkes."
Garrett's expression shifted at the mention of the academy. "Xerkes, eh?" He looked Nero up and down, taking in his disheveled appearance. "Funny how that name opens doors in this city." He sighed, pushing his shutters back up. "Alright, come in. But make it quick."
Inside, Garrett rummaged through a back shelf, muttering to himself. "Let's see... got some basic ones here. Nothing fancy, mind you. Half-cubit capacity each, rough stitching, but they'll hold."
He placed four small, worn leather bags on the counter. They looked unremarkable, save for the faint shimmer of enchantment around their openings.
"Ten silver for the lot," Garrett said, then added with a hint of pride, "Cheapest you'll find in the district. They're not pretty, but they're honest work. Won't fall apart on you mid-transport like some of that fancy rubbish they sell up in the floating markets."
"Perfect," Nero said, counting out the coins. "Thank you. Really. And you can keep the change."
"Hmm. Just don't come running back tomorrow saying they're too small," Garrett warned. "And next time, maybe don't wait until closing?" He looked at Nero's still-flushed face and shook his head. "Or at least work on your running first."
"Thanks again," Nero said, and headed straight for the strider station.
The massive razorback strider squawked when he approached - twelve feet of irritable, feathered transportation. He paid the rider fifteen silver for a trip to Redcliff Valley, trying not to wince at the price. The creatures might look like overgrown, bad-tempered ostriches, but they could cover more ground in an hour than a horse could in three.
The beast slowed to a stop at Nero's signal. "Here's good, sir."
Redcliff Valley lived up to its name - rust-colored cliffs dropping sharply to meet the sea, white foam crashing against their bases.
The setting sun cast long shadows across the scrubland, and in the distance, the first lights of Arkhos port were beginning to twinkle. Even after everything, this corner of the island still took his breath away.
The rider, a weathered man probably in his fifties, frowned down at him. "Night's falling, kid. Not usual to see a boy your age out here at this hour." He hesitated, then added with careful neutrality, "Everything alright at home?"
Nero almost laughed when he realized what this looked like - a child heading to a remote location at dusk, alone. Every indication of a runaway. "Oh yes. Everything's fine, sir. Just have some business to attend to. I'll be heading back tonight."
The man studied him for a long moment, thumb absently stroking his graying beard. "Tell you what. I'll be at the Salty Dog for a while." He pointed to a distant building where warm light spilled from windows onto the clifftop. "When you're done with your... business, come find me. I'll give you a ride back."
"I'm not sure I can afford the evening rates..."
"No charge." The man's eyes crinkled. "Just don't want a kid wandering around these cliffs after dark."
"Thank you, sir. I'll find you when I'm done then."
They parted ways, the strider's heavy footfalls fading into the growing dusk. Nero watched them go, oddly touched by the stranger's concern. He'd forgotten how people could be kind for no reason at all.
And so, Nero surveyed the cliffs. Caves dotted the red rock face like holes in cheese, some barely more than shallow indents, others yawning black mouths that disappeared into darkness. At least forty of them, he counted. Somewhere among them was his ticket to survival.
What did he remember about the cave? He squinted, trying to drag details through sixty years of accumulated memories. It was... high up. Yes. The guy had been chasing his goat up a narrow path when he found it. And there had been something about the entrance being partially hidden by... rocks? Plants? Something that had made it easy to miss.
He also remembered people making a big deal about how the cave entrance looked like a crescent moon when you stood at the right angle. Or was it a fish? No, definitely a crescent moon. That detail had stuck because someone had spun a whole theory about leprechauns and lunar magic that had made the rounds in the papers.
And there had been something about water... right. The cave had to be above the high tide line, because the treasure would have been long ruined otherwise. That at least narrowed things down - he could ignore all the caves near the bottom of the cliff.
Still left him with about fifteen possibilities to check. Nero sighed and started climbing. At least his younger body made this less likely to kill him.
He channeled mana through his pathways, the familiar tingle of [Levitation] making him lighter. Not enough to float - that would be too conspicuous - but enough to make climbing feel like walking up stairs instead of scaling a cliff face.
One by one, he checked the caves above the tide line. The first one was barely deep enough to count as a cave. The second was promising until it opened into a natural chimney. The third was just right except for being shaped like a lopsided triangle. The fourth...
Hours passed. The sun disappeared entirely. Still no crescent moon.
He sat on a ledge, frustrated and confused. He was absolutely certain about this location - the newspapers had mentioned Redcliff Valley dozens of times. The crescent shape had been a major talking point. The treasure had definitely been here.
Hadn't it?
Darkness had fully settled now, and Nero was starting to wonder if maybe his seventy-nine-year-old memories weren't as reliable as he'd hoped. After all, what were the odds of remembering exact details of a newspaper story from six decades ago?