The Wanderer took the map from the messenger's desk, folding it tightly and shoving it into his pocket before slipping out into the dusty streets.
As he arrived at the city’s massive southern gates, he stopped for a moment to stare up at the looming Nullstones. The very structures that protected Valoria against mages, the very thing that had shielded the Wanderer from the volatile energy raging within his own chest.
He took a deep breath, tightening his grip on a heavy cloth bag of travel supplies he had hastily purchased from a street vendor, and stepped through the threshold of the gates.
The moment he crossed the threshold and left the Nullstones' containment zone, a violent surge of energy tore through him. The Spiral in his chest woke up instantly, roaring and thrashing like a caged animal suddenly released into the wild.
He collapsed onto the dry ground just outside the city walls, his vision blurring. He forced his eyes shut and began inhaling and exhaling slowly, gritting his teeth as he repeated a single phrase over and over like a mantra: “Not this time... not this time...”
It took several grueling minutes of sheer willpower, but he finally managed to suppress the volatile cosmic energy, forcing it back down beneath his skin. Weak but determined, he pushed himself up to his feet and began the long journey toward Serenya's suspected location near Hosar.
What should have been a brief, few hours' trip by horse turned into a day-long walk on foot. The further he walked, the more the city disappeared, leaving him entirely alone, accompanied only by shifting sand dunes and dusty winds.
Finally, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, he arrived at the exact coordinates marked on the messenger's map.
He stopped and scanned the horizon.
There was absolutely nothing here. The landscape looked entirely identical to the empty desert sands he had been traversing for miles. A thought crept into his mind that perhaps Zeek’s messenger tricked him, providing a fake map just to send him on a wild goose chase until the Captain woke up in the infirmary.
Suddenly, the ground beneath his boots trembled faintly.
The Wanderer dropped into a low crouch. He thrust the fingers of his hand deep into the desert sand, closing his eyes to focus. Through the shifting grains, he felt the vibrations traveling through the earth, pinpointing the source.
He snapped his eyes open and lifted his gaze toward a large sand-covered hill nearby. The tremors were radiating directly from it.
Without a second thought, he broke into a sprint, his boots kicking up dust as he raced across the dunes. As he neared the hill, a massive hidden stone door embedded within the rock face began to grind shut, its heavy tracks were the cause of the tremors.
"Hey! Stop!" the Wanderer shouted. "I'm coming!"
The grinding mechanism stopped. A second later, the stone slab partially retracted, and four heavily armed men stepped out into the open, instantly leveling spears with glowing tips directly at his chest.
The leader of the group stepped forward, looking at the Wanderer up and down before turning to his men and commanded, "Kill him."
The Wanderer instantly threw both of his hands into the air. "Wait! Wait! Zero sent me!"
The leader paused, turning back around and raising a hand to signal his men to hold their strike. He eyed the Wanderer. "We don't receive orders directly from Zero."
"There’s been a massive change in the plans," the Wanderer countered, keeping his hands raised.
The man crossed his arms. "Prove it, then."
The Wanderer's mind flashed back to the conversation at the tavern bar. He looked at the leader and said, "We are the ones who watch over Valoria at nine p.m."
The leader's expression shifted. He slowly rubbed his chin, thinking. The spears around him relaxed just an inch. "What are the new orders?"
The Wanderer lowered his arms.
"The Duke's daughter must die."
The leader’s eyes narrowed. “What caused this plan to change? The original instructions were to keep her alive and not to harm her by any means.”
The Wanderer reached to his and clicked the button on the side of his mask. With a mechanical hiss, the synthetic flesh rippled revealing the white porcelain owl mask.
“You only obey orders,” the Wanderer said, his voice dropping into a flat cadence. “It is above your rank to know more.”
The leader stared at the mask, and swallowed hard before finding his tongue. “You will have to excuse my boldness, sir... but I don't know you. You are definitely a trusted part of the organization as they don't hand out high-tech masks like that to just anyone.”
He raised a hand, signaling his men to fully lower their spears. “But we will have to confirm these orders with our handler before carrying them out.”
“That's fine. Do as you wish,” the Wanderer replied, still maintaining the authoritarian facade. “Take me to her for now.”
The leader, still harboring suspicion deep in his eyes, lowered his head slightly and gestured toward the dark opening of the hill. “Please, go in.”
The Wanderer moved into the hidden structure, the heavy stone door grinding shut behind them, sealing out the harsh desert wind. The interior was a labyrinthine hideout carved directly into the bedrock, illuminated by faint magical torches. The four armed men and their leader followed closely at his heels.
“You are welcome to stay until our contact arrives,” the leader said as their boots echoed down the rocky corridor. “But for security reasons, we can't let you leave the perimeter until then.”
The Wanderer didn't look back. “Try to make haste. I cannot stay here for too long. And rest assured, your actions for holding me back will be reported to the inner circle.”
The leader stiffened slightly. “Apologies, my lord. But I am sure Zero will understand my cautiousness given the stakes.”
They arrived at a heavy wooden door deep within the complex. One of the guards stepped forward, drawing a large iron key and unlocking the deadbolt.
The leader turned back to the Wanderer. “We aren't holding you captive or anything, sir. But for the sake of our protocol, I must ask you to remain in the same room with Serenya until we have our official confirmation.”
The Wanderer slowly turned his body toward him. “Aren't you afraid I might lose my patience and carry out the execution myself?”
The leader offered a smile. “I'm sure an elite member of the Owls can restrain his blade until the word is given. Besides... we don't have many lockable rooms around here.”
The Wanderer didn't reply as his gaze was instantly fixated on the far corner of the dim chamber. There, sitting on the edge of a rough cot, was Serenya. Her clothes were torn and dusty, her hair unkempt, but her eyes snapped toward the doorway with a defiant glare.
The Wanderer stepped inside, and the door slammed shut behind him, he could hear them locking it from outside.
The moment the latches clicked, the Wanderer dropped his rigid posture. He paced across the stone floor toward her, his face - hidden behind the porcelain - tight with worry.
Seeing the strange man in the white owl mask approaching, Serenya violently pulled herself back to the very edge of the bed, raising a sharped wooden spoon. “Who are you?! Stay back for your own sake, I warned you”
The Wanderer pulled the porcelain mask completely off his face, revealing his battle-scarred face.
Serenya’s breath hitched. Her defensive posture melted, and she stared at him in utter disbelief before a smile broke across her face. “The Wanderer...?” she whispered.
He moved instantly, dropping to one knee beside the bed and placed a gentle finger over her lips, his dark eyes scanning the door behind them as he whispered, “Shush. Act normally. They are listening.”
He put the mask back to maintain its echo, and stood up straight.
"Don't worry, my lady," he said loudly. "I'm not here to harm you. Not yet, anyway."
Serenya was still smiling, a spark of hope bright in her eyes as she looked at his masked face. He quickly gestured with his hand for her to play along.
Catching on instantly, she raised her voice. "If you come anywhere near me, my father will cut that arrogance right out of your flesh!" A second later, she dropped her volume to a whisper. "How did you even get here?"
"I made them think I'm on their side," he whispered back, his eyes darting toward the heavy wooden door. "It's a long story. I'll explain later."
He lunged forward, laughing loudly. "Your father will have his hands entirely full over the next few days, girl. He won't be looking for you."
While the echoes of his fake laughter faded, the Wanderer slunk over to the door. He leaned in, pressing his eye against the keyhole, carefully scanning the corridor outside. He watched the flickering shadows of the magical torches, listening for the clanking of spears or shifting leather armor. After a full minute of stillness, he made sure no one was standing directly outside the frame.
He turned and moved back to Serenya's side. "We have to get you out of here. Right now."
"There is only one exit to this entire complex," she whispered back, her face tightening with anxiety. "I've been looking for another way since they dragged me in, but I couldn't find anything else. It's just a dead-end network of tunnels."
The Wanderer paced a tight circle around the small room.
He stopped pacing. "Then we will have to fight our way out," he said, raising his mechanical arm and curling it into a fist.