The vessel glided steadily through the depths. Kuma and the Wanderer stood shoulder to shoulder in the cramped space, yet the silence between them was a valley.
"How long until we make landfall?" Skida’s voice cut through the hum of the mana-drive.
The Wanderer leaned into the viewing pipe, adjusting the mirrors. The peaks of the Lythran coast grew sharper in the glass. "I can see the mountains. We’ll be there in minutes."
Skida checked the edge of her blade, a smirk playing on her lips. "Alright, boys, prepare yourselves. If any of you die out there, I’ll follow you to the afterlife just to kill you again."
"I know my way around Lythra," the Wanderer said, his gaze remaining on the mirrors. "I can blend into their ranks and sabotage the perimeter defenses from the inside."
Skida glanced between them. "What, you don't want your wife coming with you?" she asked, gesturing toward Kuma.
"He’s faster on his own," Kuma answered flatly, not looking at either of them. "I’d only slow him down."
Skida let out a sharp laugh. "Fine by me. We split on arrival to locate Rohan. No one engages him alone, that’s an order. If you find him, send the signal."
A grim nod went around the small cabin.
The vessel groaned as it settled against the rocky base of the coastal cliffs. Skida threw open the hatch and leapt into the surf, followed closely by her unit. The air of Lythra was different, the smell of blossoms was replaced by burned wood.
The Wanderer pointed toward the distant skyline. "Rohan is likely at the Fang Guild. If not there, he’ll be entrenched at the Viridian Temple."
Skida split the group, taking the main force toward the Guild while directing the others toward the temple. The Wanderer slipped away, moving toward the city gates alone.
He stole a set of local robes from a line of laundry behind a hillside home, concealing his Draemiran gear. Stepping onto the jade-paved streets for the first time in two years, the sight hit him, much has been changed. The banners of the Fang Guild dominated every corner, and the scars of civil war were everywhere, shattered storefronts and scorched homes told the story of a nation tearing itself apart.
A flicker of guilt stirred in his chest. He had been the catalyst for this, the spark that ignited the feud between Tharos and Rohan. But then, the phantom sensation of Tharos’s needles and the cold marble memory of the great hall flashed through his mind, turning the guilt away.
He reached the Gates just as the horizon erupted.
The Lythran monks held the line with precision. High above, the Draemiran army unleashed a barrage of concentrated magic blasts, but the air shimmered as the Lythrans met the spells with Qi counter-attacks, dismantling the incoming energy into harmless sparks before it could even touch the walls.
Arrows rained from the ramparts, a hiss of wood and feathers that disappeared into the fog below. From his position, the Wanderer couldn't tell if the Draemiran lines were thinning or holding firm.
He stayed low, pressing against a brick of a nearby building. His hands began to move, weaving a dense, volatile barrage of fire. He threw the spells toward the far side of the Lythran line.
The explosion was deafening. He detonated the entire cluster at once, the shockwave rattling the windows of the jade streets.
"The Draemirans!" the Wanderer roared, his voice carrying through the smoke. "They’ve breached the walls! Fall back!"
Panic rippled through the defenders. Heads turned, eyes searching for a gap that wasn't there. The soldiers began to scatter, their formation fraying at the edges.
"Hold your ground!" their commander screamed, his voice cracking. "It’s a distraction! Stay in position!"
But the seeds of chaos had already sprouted. As the defenders shifted to address the supposed breach, the real Draemiran blasts finally found their marks, slamming into the unprotected sections of the wall.
The Wanderer slipped into the shadows of the secondary line, hunting Qi users in the turmoil. A single, silent strike from his dagger to the heart was all it took. Monks and Fang members fell before they even realized the threat was already inside.
"You there!" The commander’s voice hammered into him. "Who are you? Step away from the line, this is no place for a civilian!"
The Wanderer paused, his hand still hovering near his blade. The commander stared, his eyes dropping to the blood stains blooming across the Wanderer's stolen robes. The realization dawned on his face.
"Wait," the commander muttered. He grabbed a nearby soldier by the shoulder, shoving him forward. "Seize that man! Bring him to me!"
The Wanderer bolted. He dove into a narrow alley, the soldier’s boots heavy on the pavement behind him. Reaching a dark corner, he pressed himself into the stone and waited. As the soldier sprinted past, the Wanderer lunged.
One hand muffled the man’s scream while the other drove a dagger deep into his throat.
He let the body slide to the ground, wiping his blade.
"Wanderer? Is that... is that you?"
The voice was a ghost from a different life. He turned slowly. Kaelen stood there. Her robes were scorched and torn, her face smeared with soot and blood. He froze for a moment.
Then stepped forward, grabbing her arm with a desperate grip. "You need to leave. Right now. Lythra won't survive the day."
She looked at him, her eyes wide and searching. "You came back? To help us?"
The Wanderer looked away, his jaw tightening. "No." He forced himself to meet her gaze again. "You saved me once. Let me return the favor. Get out while you can."
Kaelen recoiled as if he had burned her, ripping her arm from his grasp. "I wish I never had!" she spat, her voice trembling with grief and rage. "You caused all of this. Every death, every fire…it’s all your fault."
"How is this my fault?" he shouted back, the frustration of the last two years boiling over. "You only saved me because you thought I was a Qi user! Tharos treated me like a specimen, an animal in a cage! This whole city fractured because his pride wouldn't let him adapt. The best thing he ever did was to die!"
The slap echoed through the alley, stinging his cheek.
"Even if he was wrong, don't you dare insult his memory," she hissed, her eyes filling with tears. "He took you in from the streets when you had nothing."
The Wanderer’s eyes flared with anger. He looked at her one last time, the connection between them finally snapping.
"You're still a fool, Kaelen," he said, turning his back on her. "You lived as one. You can die as one if that's what you want."
He vanished into the smoke of the jade streets, leaving her behind.
"You're the fool, Wanderer!" she screamed after him, her voice raw. "I curse you! I curse you until the end of your days!"
The Wanderer waded through the devastation, a ghost moving through a storm of fire and steel. He walked openly, not caring anymore to remain unseen, his stolen robes stained a deep crimson. The screams and the thunder of collapsing masonry were nothing more than white noise against the roar of his own thoughts.
His feet, carrying a memory his mind tried to suppress, led him to the gates of the Viridian Temple.
He stopped, staring at the desecration. The sanctuary was broken. The old trees around the entrance had become charred skeletons. A cold impulse sparked in his chest; he stepped over the threshold, moving deeper into the ruin to find Kuma.
He cleared the rubble of the inner sanctum and heard a guttural grunt of pain.
The Wanderer rushed toward the sound. In the gardens, Rohan stood amidst a circle of Fang members, their blades dripping. They were surrounded by the broken bodies of the Draemiran unit.
The Wanderer’s anger had built enough to cloud his judgment. He slammed his palm against a section of the collapsed wall, the stone deconstructing into its base elements before reassembling into a flight of iron spears. With a violent shove of mana, he launched them.
The spears whistled through the air, only to revert back into crumbled stones at Rohan’s feet.
Rohan looked up, a bored smirk spreading across his face. "Oh? And what do we have here? Is this the great betrayal of Lythra finally showing its face?"
The Wanderer stepped out from the garden's entrance, his voice dangerous rasp. "I was never part of Lythra to begin with. There is no betrayal."
His gaze flickered to the side, catching a glimpse of a slumped figure against a shattered pillar. "Kuma!"
He sprinted to him, ignoring the Fang blades leveled at his throat. He dropped to his knees beside his friend.
Rohan watched him, tilting his head. "Was that a friend of yours? Hope you don't mind the mess."
Kuma’s hand, trembling and cold, reached out and gripped the Wanderer’s arm. "Run..." he wheezed, the word wet with blood. "He... he has anti-magic armor. We couldn't pierce it."
Rohan laughed. "Your friend is quite the snitch, isn't he? What a coincidence."
The Wanderer looked around at the rest of the unit soldiers, now reduced to meat in the dirt. He turned back to Kuma, his voice breaking into a shout. "Why didn't you wait? Why didn't you wait for Skida!"
Kuma’s eyes were losing their focus, the light behind them flickering. "They... they surprised us," he whispered. He coughed, a spray of thick, dark blood staining the lavender scattered on the ground beneath him.
He looked up at the Wanderer, one final, desperate clarity shining through the pain. "You aren't like her," Kuma gasped.
The Wanderer said. “Stop talking. Don't you dare die on me soldier!” he tried to lift him up with his shaking hands.
Kuma gripped on the Wanderer’s arm tightening one last time. "Forgive me... I was only... trying to save you from your demons."