Prologue

“My lord!” One of his Battle Masters came into the tent, “House Wintertide has made an alliance with House DragonJade!”

“So?” the king of Everblaze snorted, “The only thing House DragonJade does is heal and have good morals. They’ll be no trouble.”

“But the wyverns, sir!”

“Send our Flame Speakers to fight them. They’re useless anyway.” the king waved his hand dismissively. One of his concubines was a Flame Speaker, and she was as annoying as his advisors. He would be more than happy to sacrifice her for the well being of his House.

His son, Jandro, was seated next to him with his blade drawn and bow strapped on his back. He looked at the map and said, “Father, why don’t you and I ride out onto the field?” he tilted his head curiously, “We are warriors, aren’t we?”

“We will, my son.” the king’s eyes narrowed into slits and said quietly, “Once Lord Quallasque decides to come out and challenge me himself.” Lord Quallasque was the current lord of the Silverwind Peaks. Normally, the king wouldn’t really challenge his enemies at a time like this, when his warriors are weak because of the lack of resources, but this time, they have gone too far.

“My liege!” another general bursted into the tent, “A light bursted from the sky.”

“A sign?”

“No, it was a blast of purple and blue light. I think I heard some screaming as well.”

The king rose, “That is strange.” he looked outside to the battlefield, where archers were shooting arrows down at their enemies, “Have you sent scouts?”

“Your sniper just did, I had to run here.” he took a step forward, “You must see it!”

 

They rode their hounds to where they saw the light. The grass around the area withered and died. And electricity singed in the air, making his skin tingle.

“What happened here?” Jandro murmured.

Before they could move, more than a dozen figures crashed into each party member, including the king himself.

“Don’t kill them!” a girl’s voice ordered sharply, “The only person responsible is him!” she pointed at the king accusingly. She had black hair and broad shoulders. her eyes are brown and crackling with a strange energy.

“What?” he growled, “Silly girl, what are you saying?” What did I do? I didn’t do anything. Who are these people, and what manner of creatures are they to travel by light?

“Kill him, Samael!” another voice spat.

“Go back to Hell, fiend.” his attacker snarled. He looked up just in time to see those blank white eyes. The king gasped, but when he looked away, from the corner of his eye, he could make out two purple eyes glaring daggers at him with fury and hate. He didn’t have time to look back when his throat was slit and his blood was spilled.

Solar

Solar knew that he would be next in line for the Throne of Everblaze, in fact he had always known, deep down, since the death of his father, that he was going to be the next Phoenix King. 

Everblaze was a land of fire. There were three red and gold suns that blaze with scorching fire. On either side of Everblaze were constantly active volcanoes that erupt at the most random times. Lakes and rivers of lava flow through the city like ice through rock. The heart of the city was the Palace of the Phoenix King, the ruler himself, also known as Solar’s uncle.

Solar’s father died in the war against House Wintertide. His uncle decided to take him in and make him the youngest Battle Master House Phoenos has ever seen. Solar was a good warrior, he heard his sister tell him many times, but no one treats him like a full grown Everblaze Warrior. Solar has seen seventeen scorching summers, yet everyone still treats him like a child.

His sister was five years older than him, she was a Flame Speaker, and Flame Speakers hold little honor for their families. Solar restored that honor by becoming one of the best warriors Everblaze has seen… well, except for the first Phoenix King, of course.

The first Phoenix King was the founder of House Phoenos and Everblaze. He was also partially the reason why they had a bitter relationship with House Wintertide.

The Phoenix King had a sister. One day, she came along, hearing that her younger brother has built a great kingdom, so she came to visit. But it was said that the scorching suns and Hell Fires would boil the blood of oneself and make him a powerful but angered warrior. Such a thing happened to the Phoenix King, and he refused to let his sister enter, declaring that his sister would steal the throne. His sister was angered, and vowed that one day, she or her successors would see to Everblaze’s fall.

She left, and never came back again.

Personally, Solar thought that the Phoenix King should’ve let her in. She was his sister! He was supposed to respect her, not cast her away. Solar knew he wasn’t supposed to think like that, but he just couldn’t stand the fact that family members have killed each other to gain.

He stepped out of the blacksmith tower and onto the red and gold rocks on the ground. The three suns glaring down at him, each wind sent the scorching hot air blowing against his tanned skin. Solar saw the Palace of the Phoenix King. Its golden walls gleamed and blinded him.

“Solar!” a voice behind him shouted.

Solar turned and saw a female warrior with a gold helm and ruby red armor. Her sword, bow, and quiver hung on the saddle of her gray hound.

“Yes?” Solar asked.

“Your uncle asks for your presence.” she dismounted and took off her helm, letting her red and brown hair tumble down her armored shoulders. She took the sword, bow, quiver, “Take my mount, he isn’t a patient man.”

Solar nodded slightly in thanks and swung onto the black saddle. “What’s your name again?” he asked, noticing how familiar she looked.

She slung her bow over her shoulders, “Asheen.” she answered, “We trained together as children.” Asheen gave him a small smile, “It’s alright if you forgot.” Asheen walked into the Tower of Steel.

Her gray hound growled, pawing the ground impatiently. This reminded Solar of his uncle. He kicked the flanks of the hound and willed it to run.

While he was riding, he remembered Asheen slowly. She was the quickest and calmest one in the class, while Solar was the more aggressive one. Once, they were put together to train. Asheen made him frustrated, because she continuously darted out of reach. She was always a meter or two beyond him. And the way she gazes at him calmly instead of retreating with fear made his anger boil. Finally, when he struck her, he did so a bit too hard. She dropped her sword and clutched her rib cage. Solar pressed his blade against her throat and asked… no, snarled, for her to yield. She nodded and Solar released her.

He felt quite guilty after that. Guilty that he lost his temper and possibly frightened her. But the next day, after she went to the Flame Speakers to heal, she gripped his hand and shook it firmly, her lips twitching into a smile. “Good job yesterday. It reminds me to be faster next time.” she had said with a grin.

She was already fast. Solar thought, amused. But that day, he simply nodded, dazed.

He reached the huge doors of the palace. Solar dismounted and shoved the doors open. His uncle was pacing back and forth there. When the Phoenix King looked up, Solar saw the relief in his eyes.

“So Asheen wasn’t joking when she said she could find you, no matter where you go.” That made Solar flush, he suddenly felt hotter than he should.

“She… She said that?” Solar couldn’t keep the self consciousness from his voice.

The Phoenix King nodded, “Yes, when I asked one of my personal body guards to go look for you, she was the only one who didn’t say she wasn’t a messenger.” he seemed to be lost in thought when he said, “She’s become quite a good person.”

Solar shuffled on his feet nervously. Surely his uncle didn’t call him just to talk about… about marriage and women? That was too awkward. He remembered the time when he befriended a girl and his cousins, Ares and Horace, teased him for months, even after they stopped being friends. But during the months when Solar would play with the girl, his uncle would talk to Solar about how he must be a gentleman and a kind person. On one very awkward day, his uncle gave him the talk… and Solar was not ready to go through that again. “Um, my lord?” he coughed, “You asked for me?

He nodded, “Right, right.” he beckoned Solar forward, “You understand that I have three sons and two daughters, right?”

The warrior nodded, “Yes, my lord.” His cousins were nice, but not the best of fighters.

“Uncle, call me uncle.” he said.

“Of course… uncle.” Solar muttered.

The Phoenix King sighed, “I will not deny it. My boys and girls aren’t the best of fighters.”

You just took the words right out of my mouth. Solar thought.

“I understand, uncle.” Solar nodded.

He inhaled deeply, then exhaled, “That’s why, Solar…” he looked deadly serious, “I’m making you the next Phoenix King.”

Solar knew this day was going to come, but no matter how many times he had ran over this scene and went through the possibilities on what could possible happen, Solar was still shocked. It took him a while to find his voice and stammer, “I… I see, my lord.”

“It’s not that simple, Solar. After I’ve talked to my children,” he didn’t talk to his children yet? Solar thought. “you must swear an oath in front of every man and woman of Everblaze. The promise to cripple House Wintertide and make Everblaze more powerful than it ever was.”

“And then?” Solar sensed that there was more to come.

“I… I do not know, my boy.” The Phoenix King shook his head somberly, “I cannot tell you of the things to come. I can only wish that you will become the king your father would’ve wanted you to become.”

“My father?” This time, Solar couldn’t keep the shock from his voice. His expressionless mask slipped off, showing confusion.

“Yes, boy. Your father.” His uncle braced his hands against the wall, “Your father was to become the king, but he died in battle, and I was his only brother. We had no sisters, so I took the throne.”

“But you’ve only been ruling for a decade or two!” Solar protested.

“Yes, but I’m old.” Solar just frowned some more. “I know that I look young, but you wouldn’t believe how many seasons I’ve seen.”

Solar was quiet.

“This is not a decision, Solar. It’s something that has already been decided.”

“By you?”

“Not just by me, my boy,” the king gestured towards the nearest window, “but also my closest friends. They all agree to my choice.”

“But I haven’t agreed!” Solar raised his voice, his eyes blazing with sudden fury, “Why don’t I have a part in this? It’s not fair!”

The king only met his gaze calmly, “I never had a choice either, Solar.” he murmured, “Yet here I am.”

Solar had no words, for no words could describe what he truly felt. Fear, hope, confusion… it’s confusing, yet harmonizing together as one. Maybe this is what I should be feeling. He thought to himself.

“Go back and think it through, Solar.” The king said softly, “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Solar walked out of the palace, his mind still refused to accept the fact that he was going to be crowned king.

“Solar?” Asheen’s soft voice said.

He turned, “Yeah?”

She was no longer wearing her armor, but her bow and quiver was still slung across her shoulders and back. Her black and gold tunic hung loosely, her leggings were dark brown and matched her boots. Her auburn hair was messy and tangled.

“You’ll make a strong king.”

Solar recoiled, “Where you eavesdropping?”

Asheen shook her head, “No, I was not. Your uncle told me about it when he sent for you.”

Does my uncle really trust this woman? Solar thought. “Did you ask him?”

“Ask him what?”

“Ask him why you were being sent for me?” Solar said.

Asheen looked down, “Of course I did.” she murmured.

Then, the a horn was sounded. Solar’s head snapped back, “What the–“

The gates of the Wall of Fire creaked open, and in came more than thirty riders on gray hounds and wolves. He didn’t recognize any of them, but Asheen did.

“It’s the Patrol.” She said, frowning, “I thought they don’t come back till…” she faltered, then her eyes turned wide, “Oh Three Suns, help me.” she gasped, her gaze showed terror.

Solar followed her gaze and saw two children from the Silverwind Peaks. The land of House Wintertide.

Vessago

“WHEN I SAY FIND MY CHILDREN, I BLOODY WELL MEAN IT!” Vessago roared at his scouts.

“B… but my lord…” one of them stammered.

“Shut your mouth.” Vessago snarled, “Find them, or I’ll rip off your head!”

“They…” another elbowed him, but the scout continued, “My lord… they’re in… they’re in Everblaze…”

Vessago felt uncontrollable anger within, but nothing overwhelmed him more than his fear did. My children… Everblaze? He stood so fast that his chair toppled over. Everyone in the room flinched. “H…” he couldn’t even find his voice, “How?” he rasped when the tightness in his chest relieved a bit.

“I don’t–“

“DON’T GIVE ME THAT ANSWER!” Vessago thundered.

“But my lord–“

“Don’t but my lord me!” the Wintertide lord yelled, “How did they get there?”

“I’ll try my best to–“

“Well, TRY HARDER!”

“Enough, Vessago.” a sharp and cold voice said.

Vessago didn’t want to, but he turned anyways. He saw his younger brother standing there, one hand holding his heavy silver crossbow. His white wings were folded neatly on his back, and his long pale hair was tied back.

“Saleos.” Vessago growled, “What do you want?”

His intense dark gaze bore into Vessago’s icy blue eyes. “Walk with me, brother.” Saleos didn’t wait for an answer, instead, he turned and walked out of the door.

Vessago clenched his jaw, but obeyed. When his foot stepped into the fresh snow, he saw a clear blue sky and the icy peaks of Silverwind’s mountains. Saleos was walking away from Crystal Star and the Winter Palace. Vessago followed after his younger brother.

Once he caught up, he spat, “Alright, Saleos, this had better be good. Because my children are dying and being tortured right now by Everblaze fiends.”

“You don’t know that, Vessago.” Saleos’s voice was no more than a murmur.

“Of course you would say that.” Vessago said with bitter sarcasm.

Saleos turned to face his older brother, his gaze somber, “I’ve lost my family as well, Vessago.”

The Wintertide lord would’ve felt guilty, if it weren’t for the anger and fear churning deep within him. “But not to Everblaze, Saleos.” he pointed out sharply.

“You don’t know if you’ve lost them yet, Vessago.” Saleos said quietly.

“Did you drag me out here just to give me a lecture on losses?” Vessago asked, heated.

“No, I dragged you all the way out here to give you a break from politics and war.”

“From what?” Vessago didn’t believe he heard his brother correctly

Saleos placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder and turned him, “You’re weary, scared, and angered. I see it, and no amount of denying would change that. You need to rest, Vessago.”

“It’s not your place to tell me what to do.” Vessago snapped.

Saleos drew his hand away, “Is it? If it’s not my place, as your brother, who’s is it?” he demanded sharply.

Vessago didn’t answer.

Saleos inhaled deeply and sighed, shaking his head, “Since our parents died you’ve been leading. For two decades you’ve led us, you never sleep, and you barely eat.” Saleos met his brother’s gaze, “Wintertide needs a strong leader, Vessago. How do you expect yourself to be strong if you don’t rest?”

“A good leader never rests.” Vessago retorted.

“A good leader rests when he needs to and leads his people when needed.” Saleos pointed out.

“If you know so much, why don’t you lead?” Vessago muttered.

“I see a better leader in your eyes than in my own.” Saleos said calmly.

Vessago was, again, silenced. Saleos took a step forward, “Tell me what you’re truly feeling, brother. Give me the truth.”

I’m frightened, Saleos. Angered. The people here in Wintertide need me, but so do my children. They’re my only family other than yourself. If I loose my son and daughter, I will go mad. Declaring war against Everblaze and putting my people in danger is the last thing I want to do, but it would be the first thing I do if they kill my children. Vessago wanted to say, but his pride held him back. “I have nothing to say.” despite this, his voice quivered.

Saleos’s face was grim, “I won’t laugh at you, Vessago. Or judge you. If you feel like you need to scream out, or cry, do it.”

As if screaming and crying would be enough. He thought bitterly.

“Let it out.” Saleos murmured.

“No.” Vessago growled, “I can’t. I’m already weak in my people’s eyes as I am.”

“Don’t say that.” Saleos’s voice turned hard, “Don’t you dare. Persuading yourself that you’re weak will not help you.”

“Well, what else could I do?” Vessago spat, “Sit here and do nothing?”

“If you sit here and waste your days in feeling sorry for yourself, you’d be no better than the Everblaze people.” Saleos snapped back sharply.

Fear and anger threatened his pride, and Vessago could already feel the tears forming in his eyes. I won’t cry. Not when my children and people need me the most.

“Maybe I am no better than the Everblaze fiends.” his voice broke, and the tears were on the verge of spilling.

Saleos stepped forward, “No, you’re not.” he said in a serious tone.

A single tear fell. Saleos reached out and embraced his childhood friend and brother.

“I’m frightened, Saleos.” Vessago shook his head, letting the tears fall, forgetting his pride. “I’m scared to death.” he whispered.

Saleos patted his back, “I know, Vessago.” he murmured, “I get it.”

“Sometimes I wished I died along with mother and father, so I don’t need to bear the pain.” he gritted his teeth, “It hurts so much, Saleos.”

His younger brother didn’t answer, all he did was hug him tighter. “We’ll find them, Vessago.” Saleos murmured, “I promise, we’ll find them.”

“We?” Vessago sniffed and pulled back.

Saleos nodded, “Yes, Vessago. I’m coming with you. They’re my nephew and niece, after all.”

The rage and fear was pushed aside by a new sense of purpose. Vessago gripped Saleos’s hand, “Yes, we would find them.” he said solemnly, “And every Everblaze fiend would regret the day they were born.”

Yhria

Yhria watched as her older sister, Luna, walk gracefully into the Misty Glades with her betrothed by her side.

“What troubles you, Yhria?” a voice behind her asked.

She turned and saw her oldest brother, Sauriel, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. He one of the hundred Riders in the Mystic Valley. Since serenity makes its home here, warriors and fighters are unnecessary, but it never harmed to be prepared, because sometimes, a random wild animal would approach House Dragonjade and prove to be hostile. He wasn’t armed, but Yhria always knew that healing and meditating wasn’t the life that Sauriel would’ve wanted. He preferred to ride his wyvern into the sky and explore the lands beyond the Misty Glades (that was, of course, almost impossible, but it was something he told her that he would do someday. When he was ready).

“Troubled?” Yhria raised an eyebrow, “Now why would a person like me be troubled?”

Sauriel is rarely sarcastic. He was more of a serious person, but he still smiles and laughs when he’s amused or entertained.

“Please answer me, Yhria.” it wasn’t an order, just a request.

She frowned, “I’m not troubled, Sauriel.” If only that were true.

“Then why are your eyes downcast with sorrow?”

Yhria shook her head, “I’m fine, Sauriel.”

“Do not lie to me, Yhria.” he said.

The thirteen year old sighed. There’s no way of convincing you that I’m fine, is there? She thought. He knows me too well.

“I notice that Luna is getting married soon.” Yhria commented.

Sauriel nodded, his face calm and expressionless. When he didn’t say anything, Yhria continued, “And… well…” It was embarrassing to tell. Sauriel never full understood what Yhria says, but he always tries his best to help and listen.

“Go on.” he said softly.

Yhria’s eyes flickered up and down nervously and almost shyly. “After her… it’s… well… my turn. And it’s not really what I want.” she blurted out the last few words.

Sauriel looked into her eyes, “Is that what you’re concerned about? Getting married?”

Yhria nodded, “Yes.”

He was silent. I couldn’t blame him. Yhria told herself. He was never promised to anyone, and he doesn’t need to face unwanted marriage.

Before Sauriel started to say something, though, their mother called, “Yhria!”

The girl bowed her head and sighed, “Later, Sauriel.” she muttered.

His brother lingered behind as Yhria went into their house. It wasn’t that big, but it was comfortable. There were four rooms, one for their parents, and one for each child in the family. The space in the middle was the family room, where there was a small fountain and pool of clear water. Candles would light the night, and mats and pillows to sit on were placed neatly around the bamboo fountain. To the right when you walk in, there’ll be two silk curtains that lead to two bedrooms, and same thing with the opposite wall. Across the room, there’ll be an arched doorway that leads to a bonfire where food is cooked, and a smooth table with five chairs surrounding it. Once you enter the dining room, to the left, you’ll find the storage room, where food and supplies are placed. On the right would be the Healing Chamber. Each house has one, and it’s where injured or stressed people go to relax and stay. Most houses smell of the crackly fire, red woods, and pine, but Yhria’s home smells of green tea and the pleasant scent of lily flowers. It gives her a homey sort of feeling, and so does the wood’s scent.

Today, sitting on a mat with his pillow relaxed against a pillow was Khiiral ShadowBreaker, the one out of two people in the whole Mystic Valley that she wanted to kill. The other one was his older brother, Kheimon ShadowBreaker.

But right now, Khiiral ShadowBreaker was grinning, a mischievous and slightly wicked smile. His eyes were almost glistening with amusement. His black and roguish hair was less messy today, and he wore more formal clothes, but otherwise, he looked exactly like the person Yhria wanted to flay and gut.

“Khiiral ShadowBreaker,” Yhria’s anger was being held by a single thread, and she couldn’t keep the tightness from her voice, “what a pleasant surprise.” she emphasized the word slightly, narrowing her eyes but managing a small I-will-kill-you-later smile.

“My pleasure.” Khiiral rose from the mats and smoothed his blue and black tunic.

Yhria’s mother relaxed and smiled, “I knew you two would be glad to see each other. Yhria, I have some excellent news.”

“Oh really?” Yhria turned, “And what would that be, mother?”

“Khiiral here would be your betrothed when…” the rest she didn’t hear. All Yhria heard was the blood roaring in her ears, and the rage exploding within her. So many thoughts blasted in her mind at once she couldn’t even think anymore. All she could do is to look at Khiiral’s deep amethyst eyes. Most would say they are beautiful, but to Yhria, they represent nothing else but hate.

“Yhria!” her mother snapped.

“What?” Yhria’s question came barely above a whisper.

“Are you listening?”

“Yes.” she said through clenched teeth.

“Good.”

“I’m sorry, Lady NightWillow, but there must have been a mistake.” So Khiiral didn’t know about his betrothal to me either. Yhria mused. “I thought I was here to help her with the studies of the Sun.” What the Hell are you talking about? Her angered boiled to the point where she could barely restrain herself from burning his eyes out.

“A school project? No, my dear! Of course not! I’m sorry if we didn’t tell you, and I’m sorry if your mother forgot to tell you, but we only summoned you because you and Yhria were paired together as infants.”

Infants? Yhria’s mind screamed. You freaking chose our husband and wives when we’re INFANTS? What the Hells is wrong with you people? It’s disastrous enough that I need to call Kheimon my brother in law! But this? NO! NO! THAT IS OUT OF THE QUESTION!

“I see.” Khiiral turned his gaze back to Yhria’s. “Do you mind if I borrow her for a few minutes? You know, some alone time?”

“I’m not a lifeless object, Khiiral.” Yhria growled.

But the boy’s gaze told her to shut up.

Yhria’s mother nodded, “Of course, I know it’s a lot to take in. You two just run along.”

Khiiral grabbed Yhria’s arm and yanked her out the door, half dragging and half storming. His finger nails dug into her skin.

“Let me go, Khiiral!” Yhria ripped her arm out of his grip and spat, “I can walk by myself.”

He didn’t answer, instead, Khiiral clenched his fists and stormed into the Misty Glades. Yhria followed.

He whirled around once they were out of earshot from the city, “What the Hell was that?” he growled, shoving his face into Yhria’s.

“Don’t you give me that tone.” Yhria snarled back, “I never had anything to do with the betrothal! Can you blame me for being your soul mate?”

Khiiral struck her hard, “Don’t say that I’m your soul mate, Yhria.” he bared his teeth like a wolf.

I was being sarcastic. Yhria thought as her hand went up to touch her cheek. It stung, but compared to the fury that was overwhelming her, it was nothing, “And don’t you slap or hit me, you understand?” she spat.

Khiiral’s hand came up again, but Yhria caught it, “Never try it again.”

He jerked out of her grasp. Yhria continued, “I’m going to say this again: I had nothing to do with the marriages. You think I want to become your wife? Not even a brainless swine or a cur would want to become your wife!”

Khiiral looked like he was about to murder someone, but Yhria was too angry to be afraid. They stood there, glaring at each other. Yhria hated to tilt up her head slightly to look at him, but she wouldn’t back away until he learned how to respect.

“If you ever say that again, I’ll stick a bloody knife into your throat.” he snarled, with each word was strained and quivering with hate.

Yhria took a deep breath and let it out slow, trying to calm herself, “And you can rot in Hell for all I care!” she growled back.

She never knew Khiiral could be so quick, but he grabbed her throat and shoved her against one of the bigger trees. Yhria’s heart started to beat faster, and she could feel panic rising from her chest.

His eyes were flaring with something beyond any emotion she’s ever seen, it was as if she had angered a god. Khiiral leaned in close and whispered, “Estro Malaar.”

Yhria could feel the wind turning cold, her blood and veins felt as if they froze. The leaves stirred, but not in a lively way. She could almost see the sun being shadowed by a dark cloud. When the winds blew across her face, she could almost hear the wail of a tortured soul.

Khiiral let her go and stepped aside. Yhria almost stumbled and coughed. She gasped for breath as he walked off.

Estro Malaar. Those words echoed in her head. There was no direct translation for the ancient language of the demons and lord of Hell itself, but it meant more than a curse, or a painful death, or the worst thing that can ever happen to a mortal. It just meant pure darkness and evil. The words have never been spoken aloud unless if one person wants to awaken the shadows. That was the very first time Yhria learned how much Khiiral truly hated her.

Irethea

“Down, Scythe!” Irethea commanded.

Her basilisk bared his teeth, but did as she said. She looked into his venomous green eyes, “Calm down.” she hushed and stroke his scaly neck.

Scythe hissed quietly and looked away.

“I still don’t know why you chose him.” her mother said from behind.

Irethea turned as she continued, “He was the most unpredictable one amongst his brothers and sisters. He was glaring at everything and making more than enough rocks and statues.”

“He’s nice, though. And I trained him well.” Irethea said calmly, “He won’t kill anyone unless I tell him to.”

Scythe just snorted and rested his head against his own green and gray claws, his murky green eyes darting back and forth restlessly.

“Irethea,” her mother started.

The twenty five year old young woman looked up and frowned. Whenever her mother used a tone like that, it meant she was about to launch a serious conversation.

“Mom?”

The older woman sighed, “Irethea, about that boy, Scythor…”

Irethea knew where this was heading. She narrowed her eyes, “What about him?” she asked, almost challengingly.

Her mother looked down, as if she were ashamed, “He’s a good young man. Nice and funny, but you know how he isn’t a warrior–“

“Not every one of my friends has to be a fighter!” Irethea snapped.

“Are you sure?” her mother looked back up, shame replaced by fear, “You need allies that are strong. Sure, he writes good literature, but the only thing he wields is a quill.”

“He could be undead for all I care!” Irethea didn’t mean to raise her voice, but frustration got the better of her, “He’s nice and funny, like you said! Nothing can change that.”

“I’m only trying to tell you what’s best.”

“I know.” Irethea said, lowering her voice, “And I really appreciate it, but not this time, mother. Not this time…” she turned and snapped her fingers, “Scythe, follow.” the basilisk got up and obeyed.

She walked into the damp and cold forest. Thick green vines hung from the trees, and bog draped on the thicker branches. Irethea could feel the moss on the thick bark, and the dead leaves crunched beneath her feet. There was white fog shrouding every five meters all around her. Occasionally, she would step into a puddle of murky gray water with algae in it.

“Irethea?” a voice said.

Irethea turned and looked up. Scythor was sitting there on a thick tree branch.

“Scythor.” Irethea nodded and tried for a smile, “What are you doing here?”

The young man swung his legs from the branch, “I was thinking about my story again.”

Irethea had to grin at that. Scythor was no fighter or magic user, but he certainly had a gift of poetry and literature. Instead of blades and trophies, books and papers crammed in his shelves. He was different from the rest of the young men in the city of swamps. He was creative and funny, and he never ceased to make Irethea laugh.

Every day, Scythor would go into the swamps and think. Irethea never understood how the swamp helped, but he once described it as the birthplace of his ideas.

“It’s as if the trees and the water whispers to me.” he once said to the basilisk rider.

Of course, Irethea was still confused. But Scythor only laughed and said that he never understood why Irethea found battle drills so interesting. She replied that battle drills are like a way of assuring herself that she’s not going to get killed in the next war. Scythor tilted his head and pointed out that there was no way she could guarantee her survival in a fight. Irethea just chuckled and said it was a gut feeling.

“I had an idea that came to me a few minutes ago, and now I’m trying to add onto it.” he propped himself up with his elbows on his knees.

Irethea tilted her head, “So what’s the idea?”

Scythor smiled. The young man always enjoyed talking about literature. Irethea was the only one in the city of swamps that actually listened. “It was about this group of kids who went to search for this lost city. And in this lost city were wonders that they’ve never seen before. It was beyond imagination. And the race who occupied it was powerful, but generous and kind.” he sighed, “I was thinking about writing it down, but I was afraid that I would abandon it after a few pages into the story.” he slid down from the branch.

Irethea shook her head, “Don’t, Scythor. Every idea you come up with could be used in the future. Don’t just forget about it.”

“Well for a girl who fights, you know awfully a lot about writers.” Scythor made a face.

Irethea shrugged, “Just because I don’t write doesn’t mean I can’t advise you.” she replied.

“True.” he jutted his chin towards her, “I see you brought Scythe along with you.”

The basilisk turned at the sound of his name. He narrowed his green eyes and showed a row of gleaming fangs dripping with black venom.

“He still doesn’t like me.” Scythor commented.

“Oh no,” Irethea scratched Scythe’s forehead, “he just doesn’t act friendly amongst people who aren’t very familiar to him. He could be protective, you know.”

“How am I not familiar to him?” he cried in mock despair, “I visit every day!”

“Maybe that’s not enough.” she patted his head before turning back, “Who knows what a basilisk thinks about all day?”

“Not different ways to kill me, I hope.” Scythor said sarcastically.

Irethea laughed, “I’m sure he’s not that hostile.”

As if Scythe disagreed, he hissed and glared at Scythor.

Scythor was suddenly silent. His gaze locked on the vast swamp ahead of them. Irethea followed his gaze, but found nothing special, it was as if he were watching something only he can see, which was the case most of the time. He would point out a cloud and say it looked like something, but all Irethea saw was a cloud. Scythor would tease her, saying she had no imagination, but then Irethea would say something like, “I do have imagination! I just don’t use it!” but he would only nod, totally not believing anything she says.

“I want to find that city.”

Irethea thought she heard him wrong, “What? What city?”

“The city that contained wonders beyond imagination. Even beyond my imagination.” he murmured and turned to face Irethea.

“But Scythor,” Irethea started slowly, still confused, “such a city doesn’t exist. I know… I know that it exists up there,” she pointed at Scythor’s head, “but in real life…” she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“I know I say crazy things sometimes,” Scythor took a step forward, “but this time I have this feeling… this gut feeling that tells me this city is really out there. Beyond the swamp and over the mountains and valleys. It’s not just an idea, Irethea, it’s almost like a vision!”

But it’s not. There’s a difference between a vision and an idea. A very big difference, in fact. She thought to herself. Sometimes Scythor could be a bit naive. Or it may be because Irethea was too mature for her age.

When she didn’t say anything, Scythor sighed, “I know, I’m being a bit too hopeful and naive again.” he slumped back against the trunk, “You don’t believe me.”

“Scythor…” Irethea faltered. What could she say that wouldn’t hurt him? ‘There is no such city’? ‘You’re being too hopeful’?

Her friend raised one hand, “It’s alright. It’s fine, really.” his smile was weak, “It’s not like people would completely understand me anyways.” his sarcasm was slightly forced and strained, though.

Irethea didn’t like it. Sometimes when he doesn’t feel as good, he would force laughter out of himself, hiding his pain. She never liked it when her friends hid from her. “I would try to support you.” she finally said, finding the right words to say.

Scythor could sense her reluctance, “I could always go myself if you don’t want to come, you know.”

“You’re serious about this?” Irethea had thought he was planning his future, how far into it, she had no clue, but not soon, she had hoped.

Scythor gazed at her solemnly, “Never more serious in my entire life.”

“I… I…” she stammered, “I guess I could come with you…” everyone here treated her like she was a child anyways, and people seemed to enjoy being over protective. But to run away? That wasn’t on her list of things she had always wanted to do.

On the other hand, Scythor did need someone to protect him. If he ever came across hostile people, he would be killed immediately.

“Like I said, you don’t need to.” the slightest humor in his eyes and voice was gone, replaced by a calm and solemn expression.

“Yes, I’ll come.” she heard herself say. TAKE IT BACK, YOU IDIOT! She screamed at herself, but after she said it, her mouth just couldn’t seem to respond.

Scythor’s eyes lit up, “You would?” he sounded like a little boy, “Truly?”

She nodded. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? She shrieked at herself. This isn’t what you want! Take it back!

“Thank you, Irethea.” he breathed, “Thank you!” he crossed over in a few strides and hugged her tightly. Irethea felt so hot, she could no longer breath.

Samael

“YOU FILTHY LIAR!” Rhyland roared.

“Hey, I never said I was going to guarantee our success. I only said I could improve the odds, remember?” Samael spread his hands in a helpless and innocent gesture, his amethyst purple eyes wide. 

“You promised that we were going to succeed!” Rhyland willed for the ground to crack as a threat to the other man.

Samael didn’t so much as even flinch. “No, I never promised. I simply said ‘the odds aren’t against us’ I never said anything about promise.”

Rhyland didn’t reply, instead, a column of fire shot out of the ground and revealed a thick cobra. Its blood red eyes fixed on Samael’s throat.

Samael sighed, “Really? I’m getting rather tired of this, Rhyland.” he shape shifted into a shadow wolf. Quicker than lightning, he snatched the snake in his jaws and bit down hard. It fell limp in his jaws.

Rhyland waited until Samael changed back into a more humanoid form. He inspected the bloody snake in his hands, “This will make a fine dinner.” he commented.

“Enough with the sarcasm, Samael!” Rhyland spat, “If we don’t succeed, you know what happens to us!”

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?” Samael slung the dead snake over his shoulder like a sack of severed heads, “Without us, he won’t have anyone to do his dirty work for him.”

“I still don’t like being threatened, Samael. Not everything’s a game!” Rhyland snarled.

“Oh, why bother?” Samael grinned cheekily, “If he does do it, at least we don’t have to hunt any more people that are long dead right? Can’t you just imagine? Digging through the graves? Ugh. And seeing their rotting intestines, their eyes bulging out like this,” he made a face, “I’m telling you, the only thing worthwhile about digging up corpses is their treasure. Remember that time when we found a ruby and gold staff–“

“I said enough!” Rhyland’s eyes flared with anger, “I’m not taking the blame for it this time. You go and tell him yourself this time!”

“Fine, fine.” Samael spread his hands and made his ‘surrender’ face.

The Necropolis is a tall and black structure made for the most powerful necromancers in House Necromaas. For each generation, a new successor would come to the throne and build something new in the city, preferably on the Necropolis.

The Necropolis has seven towers, a black fort, and the black banner of House Necromaas would hang from the highest tower.

Samael has never gone into any room of the Necropolis other than the Chamber of Starless Thrones, where the seven necromancers form the Council of the Dead and discuss serious matters.

The throne that stands directly in front of the huge obsidian doors is where the High Necromancer sits. To both of his sides are three thrones, where the rest would be seated. Except for the High Starless Throne, the rest look pretty much the same.

The High Starless Throne is made of Black Crystal. To scholars, they’re called Hematite, but to most people, they’re just Black Crystal. On each arm rest was a skull with silver teeth and ruby eyes. On top of the back rest are two black horns of the Demon Prince, slew by a king several generations ago.

The rest of the thrones are similar, only they don’t have the horns or the skulls.

All seven thrones form a semicircle in front of the Necromaas banner that drapes down the wall from the purple and black ceiling, where a chandelier of blue fire hangs.

Today, only Samael’s lord necromancer and his daughter was in the Chamber of Starless Thrones.

Samael’s lord necromancer was fairly powerful. His hair is as thin and dry as straw, and as dark as the throne he sits on right now. His mask is mostly white, but the outlines show silver ivy against a black background. He wears a plain gray and dark blue robe, but as he draws himself to full height, he would look as ominous as the dark and tall shadows of the night. On the lower half of his face, where his mask doesn’t hide his skin, his pale flesh is slightly wrinkled, hinting that he was no longer a young man. His glass-like blue eyes often glaze when he’s not doing magic. He was tall, but bony, and sometimes Samael would wonder how so much magic could be channeled from this weak and fragile like body.

His daughter has his black hair, but it was slightly thicker and is often tangled. She has dark brown eyes instead of blue as well. Samael had only seen her once, and that was when she was younger, maybe when she was eight or nine. Now he can see that she was almost a full grown woman. Her hair has been cut to her upper back, and she has grown taller. The young woman wore a short purple, red, and black dress that brushed her knees, along with her dark brown boots are gray pants. The dress wasn’t very fancy, but it suited her.

She stood up when she saw him approach. “My father is not seeing anyone right now.” she announced, narrowing her eyes.

Samael chuckled, “You mean no one who he doesn’t like, little girl.” he unslung the cobra and tossed it towards her. Her eyes widen as she snatched it out of the air. “Consider it a gift of peace.”

“First of all,” she said crossly once she overcame her shock, “I’m not a little girl. And second, no one gives a dead cobra for a peace treaty.”

“Well, may I be the first.” Samael flashed her a grin, “Now tell your daddy that I’m back from the dead.”

“I told you–“

“I’m waiting!” Samael interrupted her loudly.

She sighed in exasperation, “Father,” she murmured, “your sorry excuse for a scoundrel minion is back.”

Samael whistled, “Mind your words, little girl.” he shook his head in mock disappointment. “And I thought you were a polite young lady.”

She glared at him, but he only laughed.

“And you mind your tongue when you’re speaking to my daughter, Samael.” his lord necromancer stood and looked at him, “Where’s that bastard Rhyland?”

“He went to take a stroll with a few dead people.” Samael joked, “Seriously, that guy needs to work on his social skills.”

“And where’s the body?”

Samael’s grin widen, “Yeah, about that…” he jerked his thumb toward the doors, “You see, Rhyland is pissed off because he claims that I lied about improving the odds, but I never lied! I didn’t even promise! That idiot thinks improving the odds mean a guaranteed victory! Clearly, he needs to read some more–“

“Just tell me what happened!” his lord growled.

“Okay, um…” Samael gathered his thoughts, “So while we were tomb raiding–“

“Looking for a dead body.” he snapped.

“Please don’t interrupt me.” Samael said sweetly, “So while we were tomb raiding, there were these couple of other people were tomb raiding as well. We happened to encounter each other, and we were both targeting the same grave. They demanded a fight, even when we said we worked for the necromancers. Those half witted fools didn’t even care. Since I was the only one here who had skills with the blade, I had to fight, one against five. Of course, Rhyland my buddy tried to use his magic, but those people seemed to have something better than magic. They used these… devices and created some magic of their own! I’ve never seen anything like it! You should’ve been there! They held these small things about this big,” he put up his hands, “and they held the same power as a staff of lightning! And… and they had these torches, but they don’t use fire! It was as if they could capture the sunlight and channel it! But the best I’ve ever seen was this: They had a huge… huge transportation object! It stirred the wind and flashed like lightning! But from it, they shot explosive bombs and almost killed Rhyland and I! It’s shell was hard and silver, when it hovered a few meters above the ground, someone shot something at us. We went unconscious after that, and we woke up a few days later, finding an upturned grave.”

His lord necromancer was silent, then he said, “So you failed.”

Samael shook his head, “Come now, don’t put it like that. Look at the bright side. At least Rhyland and I learned our lesson! Never tomb raid where weird people roam.”

“You failed me.” he sat back down, “Consider yourself lucky, because I’m not just ready to kill you yet.”

“Should I be grateful?”

“Father, let me kill him!” his daughter cracked her knuckles, “It’ll be my pleasure.”

“And I thought you were my friend.”

“You bastard.” she spat and started to advance onto Samael.

“Wait, Kyrstrai,” the lord necromancer said firmly, “I said I will not kill him, so you will keep that blade sheathed until I tell you otherwise.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Samael smiled and bowed.

“But I’m not done with you yet.” the necromancer spat, “My daughter would be watching over you for the next task.”

“What?” Kyrstrai half screamed.

“Oh joy.” Samael muttered.

“Find these men that attacked you and bring that body back.” the lord necromancer growled, “That body is more important than any necromancy I’ve ever done before.”

“Why?”

“You know well enough that I will not tell you.” he said, a hint of finality in his voice.

Samael frowned, “Then how would I find that body if I don’t have anything to drive my determination?”

“You should’ve become a poet, Samael, now leave. I will speak to my daughter before sending her with you.”

“My lord, is Rhyland coming?” Samael tilted his head.

The necromancer sighed, “Do I have a choice?”

Yhria

For the next few days, Yhria noticed that Kheimon and Luna go into the woods more often. Every time she comes back, she’ll ramble on and on and on about how great the day was.

Yhria wanted to scream in her face. It wasn’t fair how Luna got to be happy while Yhria had to sit under a thunder cloud all day for the rest of her life.

One night, Luna came back, her face beaming, “Mother, father, Yhria.” she turned to me when she spoke my name, “I’m with child.”

Yhria spat out her tea and toppled over her chair as if the earth just shook. Her plate clattered onto the wooden floor along with the rest of her food.

With child… with child… with child… those two words echoed through Yhria’s mind as she grappled for the table and hauled herself to her feet, feeling the urge to puke.

“Yhria, are you alright?” her father asked.

But her mom squealed, “Oh gods, Luna!” she squeezed her so tightly that Luna almost turned purple, “I’m so proud! Is it a boy or girl?”

“They say it’s going to be a girl, but I don’t really care.” she laughed, “Kheimon is going to be so happy!”

Yhria braced her palms on the wooden table and gasped for breath. She stared at Luna wide eyed. When she finally found her voice, she whispered, “With child?”

Luna nodded, “Yes, aren’t you happy, Yhria?”

No, I’m not. Her mind screamed. Yhria felt her stomach twisting and churning, and blood pounded against her skull, making it hard to concentrate on the present. Her eyes stung. She can’t bear a child of ShadowBreaker blood…

Luna’s smile faltered, “Yhria?”

Yhria found it difficult to breath. She couldn’t accept it. Not the fact that her sister was with child… Kheimon’s child.

Yhria’s mother frowned, “Yhria, speak.”

The girl swallowed. When she met Luna’s pale gray eyes, she rasped hoarsely, “I can’t.” she shoved herself away from the table and ran out of the house.

Sauriel. I need to see Sauriel. She told herself as she ran across the grassy fields towards the Sky Tower, where her brother would be staying.

“Whoa, hey!” an Alicorn Rider stopped her with his spear, “You’re not allowed into the Sky Tower, little girl. I’m sorry.”

“Get my brother.” Yhria found herself saying.

“Who’s your brother, then?”

“Sauriel, please hurry.”

The man nodded and ran up the staircase.

A few moments later, Sauriel came out. He was still wearing his chain mail and his scimitar was strapped loosely to his leather belt. He looked worried, “Yhria, what is it? You’re shaking–” he didn’t get to finish the sentence; Yhria was already dragging him into the forest.

“Luna is pregnant.” Yhria whispered once they were deep in the Misty Glades.

Sauriel frowned, “What…?”

“Luna is with child.” Yhria growled, “Kheimon’s child.”

Her brother shook his head, “She’s pregnant?”

“That’s what I just said.”

Sauriel was breathing heavily, “But she never told us–“

“She announced it today during dinner.” Yhria ran her hands down her face, “That child can’t be born.”

“Yhria, what are you saying?” Sauriel sound genuinely shocked and sort of terrified.

Yhria knew she sounded like a madwoman, but what if the child would become just like Kheimon? Or worse, his brother, Khiiral? She always imagined her niece or nephew to become a peacemaker and a good person. Not some villain of a fairy tale.

“That child cannot live.” Yhria rasped, “I’m sorry, Sauriel. But this world has had enough villains.”

A child of the Mystic Valley takes three weeks to be born. So that was how long Yhria had to wait.

When the night came, she sneaked into the room where Luna and Kheimon were sleeping in. Yhria unsheathed a long silver dagger that glistened under the moonlight.

The baby was in her crib, sleeping quietly. Her face was relaxed and innocent, but as much as Yhria wanted to spare her life, she feared that the child would become worse than her father.

Her hand quivered as she raised the blade above the baby’s heart. Her own heart pounded as sweat beaded down her face.

Is this what must be done? Murder was almost impossible to think of as a citizen of the Mystic Valley. But Yhria knew that beyond the veil of peace the council has put upon them, there was the other side of the world. The darker and cruel side of harmony.

The baby stirred and whimpered a bit, but otherwise, she was silent. Yhria glanced at Luna, who was breathing evenly. Behind her lay Kheimon who was snoring quietly.

If I kill the girl, maybe I should kill Luna. Just to spare her the pain. But then again, I’m shielding her from the pain that I’m inflicting upon her. Yhria thought. There is always a chance that this girl wouldn’t turn out like her father, though. This girl doesn’t deserve to die.

Yhria couldn’t do it. She lowered her blade and sheathed it. She slipped out of the room and went down to the basement, where she did alchemy and experimented with different medicines.

Yhria took out her volumes of medicines and healing techniques. She flipped through them until she found what she needed.

It was a chapter on mental diseases and how to cure them.

Agate leaves. She ran her finger down the list of a certain potion. Shadow Bark. Starless mercury. Boiled Meila Quicksilver. Grounded Winter Root. Mystic Ash. Yhria knew enough of potions to know that she couldn’t use Boiled Meila Quicksilver, because it was the main ingredient that cured the mind. Potions were often like that, one wrong ingredient would change the entire purpose of the potion. Instead, she would use Boiled Meila Goldsand. Meila Goldsand‘s main purpose in healing was to rid the patient of all evil thoughts and the dark side of their personality.

Yhria spent the rest of that week setting up her medicines. Sauriel kept a weary eye on her, and was surprised when he realized that his niece still lived. He didn’t tell Luna and Kheimon, but Yhria could tell that he was debating whether or not to do so.

The Grounded Winter Root took five hours, the Shadow Bark had to sit under a shadow cast by the moon for an entire night, and the Boiled Meila Goldsand needed a couple of days in the pot of Copper Oil. The others were simple to gather and prepare.

Everything seemed normal. Whenever one of the things were ready, Yhria would bring them into the basement and place them in the water from the Crystal Springs. She had to mix in everything, freeze the liquid, then boil it before putting it into a bottle made of Sun Glass.

As Yhria watched her niece laugh and play with toys, she couldn’t help but doubt that she would become like her father, but it was too late to stop now.

On the final day, she froze and boiled the potion, then she poured it into a bottle made of Sun Glass. She put it in her satchel and headed back to the dinner table.

“Yhria! Where have you been all day, my dear?” her father asked.

Yhria shrugged, “Out.” was her only reply.

Sauriel didn’t meet her gaze.

“Lyriel.” Kheimon crooned, “Lyriel, can you say daddy?” he murmured.

“Lyriel?” Yhria raised an eyebrow.

Kheimon looked up, his gaze turned hard, “Yes, Lyriel. Luna combined the names of herself, you and Sauriel.” he said in a calm voice.

“Oh.”

Kheimon resumed teasing the infant. Luna smiled, “Lyriel, it’s time to eat.”

The little baby just looked at her with big amber colored eyes and gurgled. She slapped the table and giggled all of the sudden. Luna sighed and shook her head, “Honestly, how do you expect to be a good lady if you slap the table like that?” she stroke the child’s head, “Yhria, what do you think of her?”

“She’s great.” Yhria shoved a piece of garlic bread into her mouth to prevent herself from answering other questions.

Luna turned back to Lyriel, “Sweetie, what do you want?”

Lyriel made a bunch of sounds and laughed. Kheimon grinned, “I think she wants her mother’s milk.”

Luna stuck her tongue out, “No, it’s time she ate something. See? Her first tooth is visible now.”

Kheimon pushed his bowl towards Luna, “Try, then.”

Luna picked up her chopsticks and picked up a piece of pork. She dangled it in front of Lyriel, “Lyriel.” she murmured, “It’s pork. And it’s very good.”

Kheimon snorted, and Luna glared.

Sauriel stirred his spoon in his soup, staring at the polished table. “Sauriel, why don’t you eat something?” Yhria’s mother asked.

“I’m not hungry, mother.” Sauriel said in a quiet voice.

Yhria frowned, “You sure, Sauriel?”

Her older brother’s eyes flickered towards her direction but never met her own eyes. He nodded silently. Kheimon stopped playing with Lyriel and looked at Sauriel with concern, “You must eat something, brother.” he said.

Sauriel sighed, “No, I’m fine.”

“A warrior must eat.” Kheimon said firmly.

“No.”

“I’ll make you.”

Sauriel grunted, so Kheimon stood up and walked over to Sauriel. Luna sighed, “Kheimon, leave him alone, will you?”

“I’m just trying to help.” Kheimon muttered and shrugged.

“Yeah, well you’re not, okay?” Yhria grumbled.

Kheimon’s head snapped back towards her, his eyes flaring. Lyriel, sensing her father’s anger, started to whimper. But then Kheimon looked away and strode back to his seat silently. Yhria rolled her eyes.

“Well,” Luna broke the tension in the room, “Yhria, Kheimon and I are going to the school Lyriel might be going to in the future tomorrow, so is it alright if you take care of Lyriel?”

“Of course.” Yhria said.

At the same time, Kheimon stiffened in his seat, “What?” he exclaimed.

Luna looked at her husband, “I trust Yhria to take care of Lyriel. What’s wrong with that?”

Kheimon stuttered, “I…I guess… as you wish…” he mumbled.

Sauriel looked uncertain, but didn’t voice his opinion, so Luna nodded, “It’s settled.”

 

Yhria watched as Lyriel played with her wooden toys. She took a deep breath before taking out the potion and walking over her niece.

“Hey, Lyriel!” she knelt down next to the child.

The girl stopped playing and looked up at Yhria, her eyes big and curious.

“Look, it’s juice from the Golden Mango Tree.” Yhria couldn’t believe how stupid she sounded. Golden Mango Tree? You idiot. She muttered to herself. “Do you want some?”

Lyriel’s hands reached out, “Oh.” she said with awe.

“Yes, pretty, isn’t it?” Yhria shook the golden potion. It was beautiful, Yhria had to admit. The golden liquid had silver flecks in it like star dust. She opened the bottle and handed it to Lyriel.

The girl sniffed it before raising it to her lips and drinking it. She put down the bottle and burped. Yhria took the empty bottle, but as she did so, she met Lyriel’s eyes, which aren’t the color of warm amber anymore. They were hard and flaring, as if there was fire burning behind those amber colored eyes. But after a few seconds, it was gone, replaced by the same warm amber eyes. Yhria shrugged and stood up.

What she forgot was that Meila Goldsand and Grounded Winter Root put in the same place would attract the spirits from Hell, thinking the power radiating from the non-Haelorian substances is from a god, or a guardian of the Spirit World. They would plunge into the body of Lyriel and find the Meila Goldsand and Grounded Winter Root. They would feed on the substances until there is nothing more, then they would leave. But they would leave a little of their unholy taint within Lyriel’s body, and the child would be considered cursed.

Victims mostly die of this, but the few who have survived are marked as the pawns of Evil.

That night, Yhria woke from the sound of Lyriel’s screaming. A sudden dread weighed down her heart. Meila Goldsand and Grounded Winter Root! She realized that she has just cursed her own niece.

Sauriel was the first to run into their room, his sword was half drawn. Yhria came in a few moments later.

“I CAN’T WAKE HER!” Luna screamed.

Kheimon held onto Luna, “Luna, please, calm down.” he murmured soothingly, though his eyes were blazing with fear, “Yhria, don’t just stand there!” he snapped angrily, “Get the healers!”

But Yhria was rooted to the spot.

“Don’t just stand there! GO!” he roared out the last word.

Yhria still couldn’t move.

Kheimon started striding towards her, his eyes blazing with anger and his fists clenched. Sauriel stepped between his sister and Kheimon. “If you hurt my sister,” he snarled, “I swear I would kill you on the spot.”

Luna was still crying, “It’s alright, Lyriel. Mommy’s here. WHERE ARE THE HEALERS?” she screamed.

Kheimon glared at Sauriel, but Sauriel’s eyes flared challengingly. Yhria looked at the screaming infant, her sister crying, and her two brothers glaring at each other. She ran out of the door and sprinted into the Misty Glades.

This was your fault. Her mind hissed. You are responsible. Your fault… your fault… Lyriel’s cursed… your fault… your fault… YOUR FAULT!

Solar

“Ransom?” Solar echoed his uncle’s words, “What do you mean ransom?”

The Phoenix King was rubbing his temples with his fingers wearily, “Solar, I’m just as confused as you are. According to the patrol’s claim, the spirit of a Phoenix King from several generations ago came to them with the two children and said they were the children of Lord Vessago, the lord of Silverwind Peaks. The spirit said he never had the chance to take back what was stolen from him.” his uncle sighed, “It was a… a talisman of his.”

“So he thinks Lord Vessago has his talisman, and he wants it back?”

He nodded, “Safe and sound in his tomb… assuming we could find it.”

“Now why would this random dead guy bother with all this long lost revenge stuff?” Asheen asked, genuinely confused.

“He must’ve been a determined person when he was alive.” The Phoenix King said. Solar turned to him and found him reading a book. Probably a journal. “It says here that he never stopped hunting down every Wintertide house member he knew and demanded them to take him to the Silverwind Peaks. He died of hypothermia one night, but just before he slipped unconscious, he vowed that even as a spirit, he would find his talisman.”

“Is that his journal?” Asheen frowned and pointed.

“I actually have no idea.” Solar’s uncle flipped to the leather cover, but it was blank.

“Because it won’t make sense if it is, considering the fact that he couldn’t have written down his vows just before he died.” Asheen pointed out.

“Yes, I know. Thank you, Asheen.” He said with a hint of sarcasm.

Solar shook his head, “That’s not important. The question is Do we accept the children and threaten Lord Vessago?”

All three of them went silent. The Phoenix King closed the book and sighed through his nose, “Asheen, please excuse us.”

She said nothing as she left, but she did look back at Solar before closing the door.

“I can’t do this.” Solar’s uncle rasped after Asheen left, “Not anymore.”

Solar frowned and started to walk up to him, “What do you mean, uncle?” he asked.

“No more decisions.” he shook his head, “Solar, you must take the throne.”

Solar stopped a few meters away from where his uncle sat, “My lord, we’ve had this conversation–“

“Yes, and I told you it wasn’t something that you can decide on, because the decision has already been made. It’s only a matter of when you’ll take the throne now.” his uncle’s fingers curled up into a fist, “And I choose to crown you now.”

“Now?”

“Now.” he said firmly.

Solar felt dizzy, his breath was uneven, “My lord…” he started shaking his head, “this isn’t what I want.”

“It wasn’t what I wanted either, but I had no choice.” his uncle stood, “Come.”

Solar had no choice but to follow.

On the steps of the palace, the Phoenix King beckoned a nearby general, “Give me your horn.” the warrior obeyed. Solar’s uncle raised it to his lips and blew.

Everyone turned, including the two children of Lord Vessago.

“Hear me, Everblaze!” the king roared, “As you know, my brother was suppose to be the rightful king of this land, but he passed away years ago.” his gaze swept across the crowd, “For twenty seven years have I watched over this land; I’ve made decisions, and I’ve been the father of Everblaze. But I can no longer lead.”

Solar could see his five cousins looking up at their father. His oldest cousin, Ares, looked shocked.

“I have chosen an heir,” his uncle continued, “and he would continue the legacy of Everblaze.” he turned, “Solar.”

He thought he heard gasps from the crowd, but he didn’t dare look. He couldn’t bear to see his cousins.

“Do you swear to continue the legacy of Everblaze, and lead the people to victory and glory?”

“I swear.” Solar’s voice was hoarse.

“Do you swear to strike at our enemies, and ensure the safety of Everblaze?”

“I swear.”

His uncle narrowed his eyes, “Do you swear to stand strong and give up your life for the people of Everblaze?”

“I swear.”

“Rise, Solar.”

He did, and when he dared to meet his eyes, he saw the ruby and gold wreath in his uncle’s hands. Solar swallowed as the wreath was placed upon his head, “As king of Everblaze, and your uncle, I hereby proclaim you as the Phoenix King, guardian of Everblaze and lord of House Phoenos.”

“All hail!” Ares roared, “Lord Solar, king of Everblaze,” he looked straight into Solar’s eyes, they were the color of rubies, “and my beloved cousin.”

Everyone knelt down, their heads bowed and their weapons at their sides. Even the children of Lord Vessago decided to play safe and kneel.

When Solar looked at his uncle, he was shocked to find him kneeling as well, with his head bowed down.

“Um…” Solar muttered to himself quietly, “Please, rise.” he said aloud.

Everyone looked up uncertainly.

“I said rise.” Solar repeated a little bit more firmly.

They did, and when they did, Ares stepped up, “My lord,” he said, and Solar needed to suppress the urge to wince, “what is to be done to the children?” he prodded the older sibling with his sword. The girl scrambled back and held her brother closer.

Solar didn’t even consider saying something brutal, instead, he replied calmly, “Wash them up and make them presentable. When they’re ready, take them to my chambers.”

“Yes, my king.”

“Ares,” Solar said, “make sure they aren’t harmed.”

His cousin hesitated, then nodded, “I’ll see it done.”

Asheen escorted the two children to Solar’s new chambers.

“Thank you, Asheen.” Solar nodded, “Please wait outside”

“Of course.” the warrior said quietly and left them, shutting the door behind her.

Solar looked at the two children that stood before him. The girl had ash blond hair and pale skin, her eyes were gray, and she looked weak and sick.

Her brother looked similar, only his eyes were blue and gray, and his hair was black instead of the color of ash.

“How old are you?” Solar asked, and they flinched as if he yelled at them.

Her brother decided to speak up first, “I’m nine, and she’s eleven.” he announced.

How did they survive the heat of Everblaze? was Solar’s first question, but he decided it wasn’t important, and asked something else, “Is Vessago your father?”

“That’s Lord Vessago, Everblaze fiend!” the boy snapped. His sister gasped and clamped her hand over her brother’s mouth.

“Please, my lord. He’s young and doesn’t understand the world yet. Please, forgive him, I beg you!” she pleaded desperately.

So they’re calling us Everblaze fiends behind our backs. Solar mused. “I take no offense.” he said coolly. “Now as I was saying, is Lord Vessago your father?”

“Why do you care?” her brother spat.

“Please stop, Leo. Enough.” the girl looked like she was about to cry. She said something in the Silverwind language.

Leo glared at Solar, but he held his tongue.

“Yes, he’s our father.” the girl whispered.

Solar nodded, “What is your name, little girl?” he leaned back on his chair.

“Laurai.” she answered, biting down on her lip.

“Take a seat, Laurai and Leo.” he gestured at the couch behind them.

Leo sat and crossed his arms, but Laurai was more hesitant before she sat.

“I understand that you’re here for ransom–“

“We’re here for ransom?” Leo’s voice went up a few octaves.

Laurai covered her mouth as tears poured down her face.

They’re more frightened than I thought. Solar thought to himself. What did that damned spirit do to them? “I assure you that no harm would come to you.” Yet. He added silently.

“My father would hear of this!” Leo leapt to his feet, “And when he does, he’ll destroy House Phoenos and Everblaze!”

“Leo, please, stop!” Laurai pulled Leo back down, “He said no harm would come to us.”

“Never trust an Everblaze fiend, Laurai.” Leo growled.

“Now who told you that?” Laurai chided her brother.

“Father.” Leo looked away, but Solar could still see the tears forming in his eyes, “And you should listen to him, Laurai.”

“What do you want?” Laurai asked, “Who sent the spirit?”

“No one.” Solar said quietly, “He was the one who brought you for ransom. My uncle or myself had nothing to do with it.”

“But…”

“The spirit who brought you here was a former Phoenix King. A few generations ago, one of the lords of Wintertide stole something from the king, and he wants it back.”

“Liar–” Laurai clamped her hand over Leo’s mouth.

Solar ignored his irritation and continued, “It’s a talisman, my uncle claimed.”

“My father has no such thing.” this was the first time Laurai said something that risked Solar’s temper.

“Of course you’ll say that. You don’t know what the talisman is. And even if you did, you wouldn’t risk the chance of war.” Solar said the sentence as if it were common sense.

“If my father did have something that didn’t belong to him in the first place, he’d give it back.” Laurai said firmly.

She’s found her courage. Solar said to himself.

“He doesn’t know that the talisman is in his possession.” the king crossed his legs.

Laurai and Leo were both silent.

“Look,” Solar leaned forward, “believe me, I don’t want to go through this ransom as well.” he said gently, “But I must respect my ancestors, and if this Phoenix King’s spirit wants his talisman back in his tomb, then I’ll get it back for him.”

“So you’ll threaten us and Lord Vessago?” Leo said.

“No, I’m sending you back, but I’m coming with you.” Solar sighed, “I don’t like the Wintertide people threatening Everblaze, so I’m not missing this one chance for peace.”

“But it’s still a ransom in a way.” Leo protested.

“Would you rather have a knife at your throat?”

Leo’s eyes were down cast when he said, “No.”

“Asheen!” Solar called.

The door opened and an auburn headed woman came in, “Yes, sire?”

“Prepare for a long journey. We’re going to Silverwind Peaks.” Solar said.

Vessago

“Are you sure this isn’t a trap, Vessago?” Saleos asked in his older brother’s bed chambers.

Vessago slammed his silver goblet onto the table. Wine spilled out onto his fingers, but he didn’t care. He glared at Saleos almost murderously, as if his children’s disappearance was his fault. “You ask me this now? Just before we’re ready to depart?” he hissed angrily.

“I’m sorry if I forgot to turn your attention towards this matter.” Saleos’s eyes were downcast.

Vessago was too stressed and angered to feel pity for his younger brother, because he looked genuinely sorry, “Sorry isn’t enough, you idiot!” he yelled.

Saleos recoiled, he looked calm, but his eyes glistened with the slightest fear, “I don’t want you getting hurt, Vessago.”

“My lord!” Vessago snapped.

Saleos hesitated, but he knew better to disobey him. Despite being his brother, Vessago was still his lord, and Saleos serves him. “My lord.” he corrected himself.

Vessago clenched his jaw, “You think I care about getting hurt, Saleos?” he snarled, “All I care about right now are the lives of my children. Some people may think love is what gives a mother strength to live on, to push through her pains and endure her hardships. But they’re wrong. It doesn’t only give a mother strength, it gives a father the will he needs when his children are in danger. And right now, I don’t care if they’ll throw me into a pot of boiling oil and acid. If my children are tucked in safe and out of harm’s way for the rest of their lives, then it’s worth the pain.” he shook his head, not giving Saleos a chance to speak, “But of you course you don’t know that.” he muttered bitterly, “You may have been close to Laurai and Leo, but I’m their father, I was the first to see my children. I held Leo that day, and slept with him, smiling, even though his mother is dead. If it were anyone else’s child, I would’ve wept, but they’re my children! And a father never weeps on the day his child is born, even if his love is dead.”

Vessago turned away and breathed heavily. He closed his eyes and tried to find even the slightest peace within him, but there was only anger and bitterness. All his thoughts are fixed on getting his children back.

“When you’re ready, I’ll be outside waiting.” Saleos said quietly. Vessago squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to ward off some nightmare. He heard the door shut gently.

He tried to recall his times with his children. Vessago remembered the day Laurai, his daughter, turned five and woke him up at dawn.

“Daddy!” Laurai squealed and burst into his room, “Daddy, wake up!”

“Ugh…” Vessago groaned and pulled the blankets closer to his chin, “Leave me.”

“Dad-dy! Get. Up!” she leapt onto the bed and almost cracked Vessago’s spine.

Vessago muttered, “Laurai, go away. Daddy’s had a long day.” it was true. Last night, he had to deal with a few criminals, watch five trials and two death penalties, sign a few papers and contracts, and finish his game with Saleos because his brother challenged him that morning.

“Pleeeease?” Laurai’s eyes turned huge and watery, “Pretty please with raspberries on top?”

Vessago opened his eyes slightly, “What the Hell is ‘with raspberries on top’?”

“You promised to take me flying! I’m five, and that means I could fly now!” she stamped her foot in a very adorable way.

“The law says you need to be seven, Laurai.” Vessago pointed out automatically, then wished he hadn’t.

Laurai threw a huge mock tantrum, “BUT YOU PROMISED!” she cried, “YOU SAID I COULD FLY WHEN I’M FIVE BECAUSE I’M STRONG ENOUGH! Look, I’m strong!” she ran over to his table, where his heavy silver crossbow was placed.

Vessago watched wearily as she attempted to pick it up. She did, but soon stumbled when she tried to load an Ice Bolt. The crossbow and bolt clattered onto the wooden floor. She looked up with her hands on her hips. Vessago thought she looked like her mother. “There! I’m strong! See?” she lifted the crossbow and grunted, “I’m stronger than anyone else!”

Vessago found no point in arguing against the fact that she was strong, so he got up and stretched his cramped muscles. His wings were particularly sore from all the flying yesterday. “Alright, I’m up.” he grumbled.

“Yay!” Laurai clapped her hands and laughed.

Saleos joined them for her first flight, and Leo watched from his crib, as Vessago showed her how to extend her wings and fold them back up.

“I know this stuff already!” Laurai complained, “I’ve seen you, Uncle Saleos, and the captains do it! I can do it!” she pouted.

Saleos nodded, “Of course you do.” he waved one hand, “Go on, show us what you can do.”

Laurai stretched out her wings and winced, but her brows furrowed with determination as they extended and retracted, “See?”

“Very good, Laurai.” Saleos smiled, “See, Vessago? Your daughter could skip the basics.”

Vessago gritted his teeth, “Thanks for your help, Saleos.”

The rest were all a blur for Vessago as his thoughts wandered to Leo’s first hunting trip.

“Dad!” Leo folded his arms and scowled like a stern tutor, “I refuse to use the small crossbow. Give me the heavy one.”

Vessago raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Giving out orders already, are you, young man?” he said in mock anger.

Leo immediately looked down, ashamed, “I’m sorry, father.” he mumbled.

Vessago felt as if he hurt his son’s pride, so his face soften, “The reason why I don’t give you the heavy crossbow is because I’m afraid you’ll get hurt.”

“But you never stop Saleos or your soldiers from using the heavy crossbows!” any trace of fear or shame in Leo was gone, replaced by stubbornness, “Don’t you care for their safety as well?”

“Of course I do, Leo.” Vessago knelt down in front of his son, “But they’ve been trained well, and you haven’t. Not yet, at least.”

“Yes, I am!” Leo declared, “I’ve been training for five months already!”

Vessago couldn’t resist chuckling.

“You think that’s funny? I’ll show you!” Leo tackled his father onto the ground and hit him, “How about that?”

Vessago laughed as he blocked his son’s hands.

“Oh, look what I’ve found!” Saleos’s amused voice came from the door, “Guards, come quick! A little dragon is attacking the lord of Silverwind Peaks!”

“Little?” Leo looked up and barred his teeth, “I’ll show you who’s little!” he leapt off of Vessago and shoved Saleos off balance. Vessago was surprised to see how much strength the boy had.

“You dare call me a small dragon?” Leo attempted to shake Saleos’s shoulders violently, but Saleos onto snatched Leo’s wrists and hauled him up.

Vessago almost smiled at the memory, but then his thoughts wandered to his brother.

He remembered the time when Saleos almost died of a plague that was spreading across the lands thirty years ago. Vessago never left Saleos’s side for a second, not even in sleep, he held onto his younger brother’s hand, praying and pleading to the gods. When Saleos woke up and recovered, Vessago was so happy, he cried, right there, in front of every court member, council member, noble, and citizen. He never felt embarrassed to hug his brother right there and right then.

When Vessago sat on the throne for the first time, Saleos was the first to kneel and last to rise.

On Vessago’s hundredth birthday, Saleos’s grin never faltered, and he never stopped laughing. His present was the best of them all, a painting of Vessago and all his loved ones. His mother and father were behind them, Vessago was on the left, with his wife, Myrai, besides him. Saleos was on the right with his wife, Zeila. In front of him were his triplet sons, Cazimyr, Caelan, and Carlos. In front of Vessago was Laurai.

Saleos had been his childhood friend, and their bond was stronger than their bond to their parents. They both had a family, but Saleos’s had been ambushed by rogues in the Barren Desert when they were coming home from the Mystic Valley. They didn’t want to take the road that goes through the Dead Land, where necromancers and undead roamed free, because his three sons were scared. Saleos tried to warn them that the Barren Desert would be more dangerous, but they took it anyways, and the price for safety was, apparently, death. Saleos locked himself in his room for months, coming out only to eat or visit the ice sculpture they made to honor Zeila and the three boys. But even after that, no one dared to speak of Zeila or Saleos’s sons, especially Vessago, for whenever he did, Saleos’s eyes would darken with grief, and it pained Vessago to see Saleos suffer like that.

Vessago did the same when Myrai died in childbirth. Only this time, Saleos visited Vessago’s room. They never spoke, but they did make eye contact, and when they did, it would remind Vessago that Saleos was still there, and that he doesn’t need to share the burden alone.

The only reason why Vessago came out after a few weeks was because his children needed him more than ever, now with their mother gone and all.

But even after that, Vessago had to admit his children’s needs weren’t enough to chase away the nightmares he had late at night. He remembered the agonized screams of his wife as she brought Leo into the world. He was forced to wait outside. Saleos had been away on an errand, dealing with a few Barren Desert thieves, when he heard the news that Myrai was giving birth. Saleos hurried home, flying day and night through the scorching sun and the bleak cold of Silverwind Peaks. But when he arrived, he found Vessago crouching next to Myrai’s dead body on the bed, clutching Leo in his arms. Saleos knelt next to him and bowed his head.

“I’m sorry.” he had murmured, and it was the most sincere thing Saleos has ever told Vessago.

Vessago wept for the first time in thirty years, right there, in Saleos’s arms, like a father comforting a son. Saleos shed a few tears as well, “I’m so sorry.” he had whispered. He said it over and over again, but Vessago only thought bitterly: That won’t bring her back.

When Vessago thought back in his days, he realized that Saleos never turned his back at him, or turn away coldly. He needed him, whether he wanted his help or not, Vessago knew.

He opened the door and walked out. Saleos turned, “Are you ready to leave?” he asked, no coldness, but no warmth either, just a calm, emotionless voice.

Vessago nodded, “Yes,” his voice was forced, “Yes, I’m ready.”

Saleos shifted his crossbow and stepped aside, “After you, my lord.” he said formally.

Vessago sighed and nodded again. He stepped out onto the balcony and launched himself into the blue sky.

Irethea

“Hey!” Irethea braced both hands on Scythe’s neck, “Scythe! Calm down, what is it with you today?” she frowned and patted Scythe’s neck, “Why are you so jumpy?”

The basilisk just hissed and bared his teeth. Irethea sighed and stroke him gently, “Scythe, what is it?” she murmured into his ear.

“He’s probably having one of his moody days again.” Scythor commented and reached out, but jerked back when Scythe snapped his teeth. “And… he still hates me.”

Irethea pulled on Scythe’s chains, “No, he doesn’t.” she shook her head, “He’s just not used to you.”

“If he’s not used to me,” Scythor leapt back as Scythe attempted to bite him again, “he wouldn’t be trying to kill me. He’ll only glare at me.”

“You don’t know that, Scythor.” Irethea pointed out.

“No, I don’t.” he admitted, then changed the subject, “When do we leave?” he sounded like an excited little boy.

Irethea pointed at herself, “You’re asking me?”

“We’re the only ones here, aren’t we?” he waved at the walls of the empty mud hut.

“This was all your idea. How am I suppose to know?” Irethea cried in despair, “Don’t tell me you don’t have a plan.”

“I do!” Scythor protested.

Irethea raised an eyebrow.

Scythor rolled his eyes, “Alright, maybe half of it, but I suck at planning!”

“You write, Scythor. How can you suck at planning?” Irethea frowned in confusion.

“Planning in a story and planning in real life are two very different things, Irethea!” he emphasized the very to make his point.

Are they? Irethea wondered. I thought the tactics authors use are pretty much the same as any general. Apparently, that wasn’t the case, according to Scythor.

Scythor sighed, “Fine.” he sat down on a rock, “We slip quietly outside at night, you’re a basilisk rider, so you have more rights than an ordinary soldier. You ask the guards to let you out on a patrol. I dress up as a warrior and get a boat ready. Once you’re done, we’ll follow the river out of the swamp and head south.”

Irethea tilted her head, “Does the river go that far?”

Scythor nodded, “Yes, it goes past the Mystic Valley, the Dead Land, and Silverwind Peaks. Once we’ve past Silverwind Peaks, we’ll find a huge grassy area, and there, we’ll find the city.”

“And how do you know where this mysterious city is?” Irethea asked sarcastically.

Scythor glared at her, “There’s an uncharted border where the Barren Desert stops, and an unexplored territory lies beyond the border, but the river either stops at the border as well, or goes in. So no matter what, we’ll make it to the border of the Barren Desert at least.”

“You said you had half a plan?”

Scythor sucked in a sharp breath, “Yeah, about that…” he looked out the window, “we don’t have food supplies, and I don’t know where we could find armor.”

Irethea sighed, “Food and water would be stored in the back of the Hydra Inn. I’ll take care of the armor and weapons.”

“I should get the healing kits as well.” Scythor jerked his thumb out the window, “And the boat.”

Irethea patted Scythe’s back, “What about Scythe?”

Scythor frowned, “Couldn’t Basilisks swim?” he asked.

“They could?”

“You didn’t know that?”

“No.”

The young man nodded, “They can. But don’t use chains, use ropes. If he’s drowning, the chains will only weigh him down.”

Irethea unhooked the chains, “Sorry, Scythe, but we’ll have to use ropes.” she took them off, “Where should I meet you?”

“At the Waterland Gate.” Scythor replied as he opened the door, “It’s the only gate that as access to the River.” he was gone after that.

Irethea couldn’t decide whether she should get plate and chain mail, or leather armor. Leather armor would be more convenient for Scythor, considering the fact that he’s never worn armor before, but plate and chain mail would be less suspicious.

Scythe nuzzled her gently. “Oh, so now you apologize for your behavior.” Irethea grumbled, but patted his head, “What has gotten into you today, little Scythey?” he was nearly three times bigger than her, but Irethea couldn’t resist calling him by his nickname when he was a little basilisk.

Scythe growled softly and rubbed his snout against her arm. Irethea picked up the plate and chain mail, “Which one should it be, Scythe?”

The basilisk blinked once, twice, then sniffed the leather. He snorted and went to sniff the metal plates. Scythe didn’t recoil this time.

“Chain mail?” Irethea shook her head and smiled, “You really like to make Scythor suffer, don’t you?”

Scythe just looked at her, as if saying: That’s what I do.

Irethea laughed, “Yes you do, little Scythey.” she rubbed Scythe’s head and gathered up the plate mail.

By the time Irethea was finished packing, Scythor was waiting outside her door with a boat and containers of food and water.

“Isn’t the river water fresh?” Irethea asked as she clambered onto the boat.

Scythor made a face, “Kind of… if you don’t count the part of the river called the Bloodran River, and the frozen sea water? Then yes, it’s fresh.”

“No, thank you.” Irethea said quickly.

The hardest part, Irethea decided later on, was the part when Irethea the Servant had to help Scythor the Clumsy put on his armor.

Scythor frowned when she slipped on a breastplate over his head, “Why is this so heavy?”

Irethea looked at him, “Because it’s made of metal. Duh?” she spread her arms and gave him a look of despair before putting on his spiked metal gauntlets and thick leather boots.

Scythor grunted, “How can any warrior run in this?”

Irethea slipped on the cloak of the Basilisk Riders, “Practice and training.” she answered.

Scythor rolled his eyes, “What’s next? An iron mask, a wooden stick, and a fortress?” he grumbled.

Irethea shook her head, “No.” she took out a black helmet, “A steel helmet, a black scourge, and a black shield.” she handed him all three items.

Scythor groaned loud enough for the entire City of Swamps to hear, “Seriously?” he hissed.

Irethea hit his head, “Yes, now put those on!”

Scythor slipped on his helm and braced his hands on the sides of the boat, “Okay, I feel dizzy now.”

“It’s normal.” was all Irethea said.

“Would this boat carry our weight?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” his voice seemed to echo through his dark colored helmet.

“Yes, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do know? Or, yes, you don’t know?”

Irethea sat back and sighed, “Do you want to get out of here or not?” she asked, annoyed.

Scythor decided not to answer.

Irethea put on her dark helm and got an oar, “Grab one of those.”

The warriors at the gate were young, but Irethea saw the cloaks they wore, and knew that they just became Basilisk Riders.

The oldest one, around sixteen years of age, stood, “Is General Irethea Monthrae relieving us?” he asked.

Irethea put down her scourge and lifted her helmet off of her head, “I am General Irethea Monthrae.” she replied.

His eyes widen as he turned red, “Oh.” he looked down, his feet shuffling.

A boy who looked exactly like him, most likely his twin brother, got to his feet, “Are you relieving us, General?”

“No, I’m simply taking a patrol on the outskirts of the city.” she answered.

“Do you have a new apprentice, ma’am?” the boy pointed at Scythor with the handle of his scourge.

Irethea shook her head, “No, that’s my brother, Iran.”

Scythor stood, and Irethea could see that he was trying very hard not to fall, “Greetings to you, young riders.” his voice quivered slightly.

Irethea knew her brother, Iran, graduated at the top of his class, became one of the greatest warrior in the City of Swamps, and led the armies of Basilisk Riders.

The young riders placed their fists on the left side of their chests, knelt down, and bowed their heads, “Sir Iran Monthrae.” they salluted in unison.

Scythor nodded once.

Irethea covered her mouth with her hand and tried not to laugh. “Yes, well…” she sat back down, “We had best be going.”

They stood, “Yes, ma’am.” The oldest pushed down on a lever and the rusted iron gates swung open, revealing a foggy, unfamiliar swamp.

“Thank you.” Irethea rowed out of the gates. She heard an echoing metal CLANG and knew that the gates behind her were locked and barred.

Once they were well away from the gates, Scythor yanked off his helmet and threw it onto the boat, “Iran Monthrae?” was the first thing he said.

Irethea nodded, “You had a better idea?”

Scythor rolled his eyes, “No, but Iran Monthrae is a respected warrior, and I’m an outcast!”

Irethea shrugged, “I couldn’t think of anything else, so I used my brother.”

“But Sir Iran Monthrae doesn’t deserve that.” Scythor protested.

Irethea frowned, “Doesn’t deserve what?”

Scythor looked at her, “Calling an outcast someone powerful and respected is an insult to the respected person, isn’t it?”

Irethea gaped, “Uh… no. No, that’s not the case.”

“Oh.” he looked away, “I’ve always thought it was like that.”

“Where did you get an idea like that?” Irethea asked.

Scythor flushed, “From the books that I’ve read.”

“Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘Don’t believe everything you read’?” she looked back at the murky river and the parting fog.

“No.” he made a face, “Who would say that?”

Irethea sighed. He was hopeless, “Never mind.” she mumbled.

Samael

Rhyland came to the Chamber of the Starless Thrones three minutes late. Samael grinned and waved, but he only glared at him and settled down quietly.

“You’re late, Rhyland.” the necromancer rasped.

Kyrstrai nodded, and Samael stuck out his tongue at her. She made a face and looked away. Samael chuckled.

“Sorry.” Rhyland muttered, “I was occupied.”

Samael flashed Rhyland a playful grin, “With what?”

“None of you business, Samael.” Rhyland growled.

Samael put on an expression of mock hurt, “Hey, I’m deeply offended.”

Kyrstrai clenched her jaw, “Enough, Samael.” she said quietly.

“Yes, your highness.” Samael said sarcastically.

The necromancer sighed, “Rhyland, you have heard of what your next task is, yes?”

Rhyland nodded stiffly.

“Good, Kyrstrai, my daughter, would supervise your job and report to me every week. Do not fail me this time, you two.”

“Yes, my lord.” Rhyland said formally.

Samael saluted mockingly, “Of course, we’ll come back with the corpse, and if we’re lucky, it’ll be half rotten, so you won’t need to rip open the flesh, because you can already see the organs!”

Kyrstrai slapped her face, and Rhyland shot him a withering glare, but Samael just grinned cheekily, “Just trying to lighten the mood, you guys!” he spread his arms innocently.

“Do not fail me, you two.” the necromancer repeated, “Now, be gone!”

Samael willed themselves outside of the Dead Land and into a random forest.

The forest had green trees and white stuff covering the ground. Snow. He remembered reading from a book. And trees.

The first thing that came to mind was the border between the Dead Land and Silverwind Peaks.

“Samael, you are so dead.” Rhyland stormed up to him.

Samael turned and held up a relaxed hand. Rhyland froze right there on the spot. Kyrstrai recoiled, fear clouding her eyes. But Samael smiled, “Be careful with who you’re dealing with, Rhyland.” he said in a soft and soothing voice. “Now,” he looked around, lowering his hand, “where are we?”

Rhyland’s eyes turned murderous. Kyrstrai folded her arms, “You brought us here, Samael. You tell us.”

Samael shrugged, “I simply willed us to a random forest.”

Kyrstrai touched the snow, “This is snow.” she commented, “And those are trees.” she pointed at the lively plants, “We’re between the Dead Land and Silverwind Peaks.”

“Good job.” Samael nodded, “That’s what I thought too.”

Kyrstrai ignored him, “If we go south, which is that way.” she pointed at the mountains, “we’ll find House Wintertide, and there’s going to be a river. We follow the river and into the Unknown Land.”

Even Samael shuddered when he thought of the Unknown Land. That was where, supposedly, every powerful and mysterious creature is born and comes from. There was only one path that led directly into the Unknown Land, and that was the Bloodran River, which runs from the Swamp Cities all the way from the north, past the Crystal Springs of the Mystic Valley, past the Dead Land which becomes the Bloodran River, through the Silverwind Peaks and is known as the Star Path, then into the Unknown Land.

“We’ll need a boat.” Kyrstrai said.

“Or, we could walk the length of the river, and not talk to anyone.” Samael interrupted.

Kyrstrai raised an eyebrow, “Socially awkward, are you, Samael?” she said in a teasing voice.

Samael scowled, “No… I just don’t like people.” he muttered.

Kyrstrai shook her head, “You’re socially awkward.” she waved one hand at Rhyland, “Let him go.”

Samael did, and Rhyland fell face flat onto the snow and dirt. Samael dusted his hands and followed Kyrstrai.

They traveled a few miles in silence before they stumbled across something.

Rhyland was trudging in the back when a huge explosion besides him went off like a land mine. He yelped and shielded himself. Samael jumped forward a few feet, startled, while Kyrstrai almost threw her knife.

“THAT WAS NOT FUNNY, SAMAEL!” Rhyland roared.

Samael frowned, “I never did anything.” he said.

Rhyland shouted something in the ancient language of the dead. The snow around Samael turned black and shaped a thousand Unholy Scorpions. Samael paled and spat a curse before the ground before him turned into Unholy Darkness. He felt his life force drain as his feet touched the first level of the thirteen Hells. Acting on instinct, his thoughts bended and twisted as he shaped a magic shield that deflected the life draining creatures that lived in the thirteen Hells. It gave him enough time to levitate himself out of the entrance to Hell, but it took almost all of his strength to close the portal and make the earth return to normal.

He sunk to his knees, bracing both hands on the cold ice and snow. He panted for a few moments before he looked up, truly angered, “What the Hells was that for?” he snarled.

“I’m sending you back to the Thirteen Hells!” Rhyland shoved his face into Samael’s, “I’ve had enough of your tricks and your careless attitude!”

“Do you know how dangerous that was?” Samael yelled.

“To send you back? Yeah, I knew!” Rhyland spat back, “But your pranks have challenged my temper.”

Kyrstrai started saying something, but Samael silenced her with a flick of his hand, “You want to send me back, do you?” he growled.

Rhyland’s eyes narrowed, his eyes started flashing with gold light, “More than anything.” his voice was low but dangerous.

Samael’s own eyes glowed challengingly, “I don’t want to fight, Rhyland.” Samael said quietly, “But you have forced my hand.”

A black war scythe appeared in Rhyland’s hands, “My scythe against your halberd.” he bared his teeth like an animal.

Samael was too angry to say something cheesy, so he summoned his black and silver halberd and gripped it with both hands, “Fine, Rhyland.”

Rhyland spun his scythe so the blade was facing the earth and stabbed the earth. Amber colored dust coiled around the blade and sunk into the black metal. The ground around Saleos lost its lively rich color and became a dull, dry, and cracked ground. Rhyland raised his scythe, the blade’s tip glowing with a gold and amber color.

“You steal the essence of the earth?” Samael scowled, “Fine, then I get to take the blood of the sky.” he raised his halberd and murmured the ancient language.

The sun and sky grew darker, and Samael’s halberd started to glow with an ominous gray light.

Rhyland’s scythe came down and drew an ark in the air before clashing with Samael’s halberd blade. As if the earth responded, the ice on the mountains cracked and creaked. Samael didn’t have time to look before the ice started to slip and fall.

Samael sidestepped and swung his halberd towards Rhyland, aimed at his ribs. Rhyland blocked it with the shaft of his scythe, at the same time, lightning struck the trees, creating a wildfire.

For every attack Rhyland made, the earth did something that could end thousands of lives; for every attack Samael made, the sky did something that could end a thousand lives. No blows were landed, but by the time they were worn out, the earth and sky has torn itself apart.

It was as if the sun never existed, and the tall, proud mountains never stood. All that was left around them were piles of ashes mixed in with ice.

Kyrstrai, who was standing there all along (somehow unhurt), walked up to them and raised her hands in a peaceful gesture, her eyes almost pleading.

Rhyland gasped for breath, and Samael looked at her wearily. He flicked his hand and returned her voice.

“You two know how much destruction you made in one argument?” was the first thing she said.

“I started it.” Rhyland braced his hands on his knees, “Sorry, Samael.”

Samael nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“But seriously, you shouldn’t prank me like that.”

Samael stood, “I didn’t.” he said, “It wasn’t me.”

“Then who…” Rhyland turned and walked to where the land mine went off. He flexed his fingers, and the ashes parted, revealing a silver metallic object.

It was something Samael has never seen before. The outer shell was silver and made of metal. But there was a red light flashing on and off. The object was round, and no bigger than his palm, but on the rim of the object, there were holes. When Samael brushed his fingers across the rim, he felt electric shocks run through his arm. He drew back his hand.

Rhyland peered over Samael’s shoulder, “Can I see that very quickly?” Samael handed it to him. Rhyland traced his hand over the rim and placed his other hand on the bottom of the object. He twisted it and took it apart.

Inside, there were red, blue, purple, and black thin ropes tangled and coiled around a single Unholy Scorpion. It glowed faintly, but it was still active. Rhyland gasped, “An Unholy Scorpion?”

“What is that?” Kyrstrai’s eyes were wide.

Rhyland shook his head and frowned, “I don’t know.” he poked the thin cords with a finger, “It’s not rope. This is too smooth to be rope or strings.” he ran a finger across the cords, “I don’t know what this is.”

Samael reached over and shielded his hand as he pried the Unholy Scorpion out of its socket. When he took it out, the colorful cords sputtered with electricity before the red light stopped glowing, and the entire thing shut down.

Samael inspected the Unholy Scorpion, “The device must be powered by this Unholy Scorpion.” he murmured.

“Well, whoever made this device was either very brave or very stupid.” Rhyland declared as he tapped the red glass where the light flashed from, “An Unholy Scorpion is very powerful.”

“This Unholy Scorpion is fading, though.” Samael said, “Maybe they thought a fading Scorpion wouldn’t be much trouble.”

Kyrstrai pulled on the cords, “What are these for, then?” she pointed at the fading gemstone, “And why didn’t that thing suck the device into the thirteen hells?”

“It needs to touch a natural surface. For example, the earth, a rock, or a tree.”

“Then what’s the shield for?” she jutted her chin at his faintly glowing hand.

“It never hurts to be prepared.” Samael said, slightly offended.

The three were silent for a few moments before Rhyland spoke up, “So do we keep this?” he asked quietly.

Samael nodded, “I think we should, just in case someone tries to activate it again.”

“It could be a bomb, though.” Kyrstrai pointed out.

“A bomb without its source of power isn’t a bomb at all.” Samael winked and held up the Unholy Scorpion.

Rhyland trudged off without another word, Kyrstrai followed. Samael just looked at his Unholy Scorpion. Now, who would be powerful enough to handle such a thing like this? He wondered, and for the first time in centuries, he felt a twinge of fear.

Yhria

Yhria had been running for countless days, and maybe even weeks now. Sometimes, she would feel homesick, but then Yhria would push the feelings away, knowing that once she felt truly homesick, she would head back. Yhria wasn’t prepared to face her family and friends.

At times, she would cry herself to sleep, knowing that she shouldn’t have done such an unforgivable thing, but it was too late. What’s done was done.

She kept herself alive by staying close to a nearby stream and a Millasque, a tree that produces a type of fruit, and is big enough to provide shelter. Its leaves were the perfect kindling for fire, but there weren’t any stones that she could use to make fire, and it was getting dark.

Once the sun was down, the temperature dropped quickly. She could see her breath forming every time she exhales, and from time to time, she would see a light snow fall. Why doesn’t this ever happen in the Mystic Valley? She wondered, rubbing her arms to keep warm.

“How long do you plan to stay there cold?” a voice behind her asked.

Yhria spun around and leapt to her feet, grabbing the nearest weapon (a tree branch), and raised it.

The man before her must’ve been at least forty. His skin was pale, but at the same time, it was tanned, and his hair was long, dark, and smoky gray. His amber eyes burned like fire, and his intimidating appearance made him look like a god of war. But his mouth was twisted into a cruel looking smile, like he wasn’t used to smiling. His clothes were a long golden cloak with red lines and strokes, a blood colored tunic, trousers that looked like were made of white and silver colored skin. His boots were feathery, like he plucked the feathers off of a griffin and pasted them onto some ordinary boots. But the more Yhria stared at them, the more real they actually looked. He was wearing a few blood stained spiked metal gauntlets, gold shoulder plates, and a silver belt. Hanging from the belt was a sword in a scabbard that was made of ivory and a glass like material. The hilt was black, but not like the night or the shadows, it was like ash and thick smoke.

“If you’re done staring, we could start introducing ourselves.” he made a formal bow, “My name is Muerdox Firebringer.”

Yhria frowned, “I’ve never heard of you.”

“Of course you haven’t!” Muerdox spread his hands despairingly, “You’ve lived your entire life in a valley! A valley which has been cut off from the rest of the world!”

“But now that I think about it…” Yhria squinted her eyes as if that would help her remember, “Your name seems familiar.”

The man sat down on a nearby rock casually and crossed his legs, his hand resting on his sword hilt. “What is your name, little girl?”

Yhria recoiled, “Why should I tell you?”

Muerdox shrugged, “You don’t have to.”

Yhria narrowed her eyes, “What’s in it for you?”

Muerdox waved his hand at her pile of kindling, “I could start the fire for you.”

“No, what I meant was: What do you want?” Yhria rephrased her question.

Muerdox hesitated, then, he said slowly, “I think I’ll tell you when the time is right.” he stood, “Look, do you want my help or not?”

Yhria looked at the kindling, then back at Muerdox, then back again, “Light the fire, please.” but she took one more step backwards, just in case he proves hostile.

Muerdox raised his hand and flexed three of his fingers. The kindling caught fire, and was soon creating a camp fire.

Yhria gasped, “You know magic?”

Muerdox shrugged, “Call it what you would like.” he said, “I can do a lot of things, but in return, I need a favor.”

Yhria tilted her head, “A favor?”

Muerdox nodded, “Yes, a favor. You do know what a favor is, don’t you?”

Yhria frowned, “Yes.”

“Good, now I suppose you’ll ask me what the favor is.” he folded his arms and leaned back against the tree, “An old friend borrowed something from me, but he never had the chance to return it, because he died a few years later of a disease. I need you to retrieve it.”

“So I’m your minion?”

“A minion would never get help from his master, so technically, you’re not my minion. Merely a person who is nice enough to help.” Muerdox said simply, “What he borrowed was a chess set, a family heirloom.”

“Why would someone want to borrow a chess set?” now, Yhria was utterly confused.

Muerdox shrugged, “I don’t know.” he mumbled, “But he said it was really desperate, so I just gave it to him.”

“Why don’t you retrieve it yourself?” Yhria asked.

Muerdox sighed, “Some things are best kept private.”

“A fire for a favor that could risk my life? That hardly seems fair.” Yhria pointed out.

He laughed, “You think I came all this way just to help you light a fire and ask a favor? No, of course not!” he touched the hilt of his sword, “I could swear to protect and defend you, you know. Or, I can teach you a few survival techniques and meet you at the end of the forest.” he looked at her from the corner of his eye, “Do you want me to teach you how to fight?”

Yhria looked down at her hands, the hands which have been healing others. Now, once she has made her choice, they would either be a weapon, or a mark of weakness. She once swore that she would never hurt anyone, but how many years ago was that? Yhria cannot remember. The Mystic Valley is behind, and so are her family and friends. Her promises have been left behind with them.

“Teach me how to defend myself.” she decided.

Muerdox nodded, “Fine.” he waved a hand at her, “Choose your weapon.”

Yhria was confused again, “Weapon?”

“Sword, spear, axe… or your own fists, if you prefer.” he leaned over and tapped her knuckles.

“What do you recommend?” Yhria asked.

“What are your qualities?” Muerdox inquired back.

“I’ve never fought before.” Yhria admitted.

“I didn’t ask you how much experience you have with fighting. I asked you what you are capable of? Are you the agile type? Or more of the strength type? Are you smart, do you think fast? Or are you a berserk warrior who doesn’t care about how awesome her plan is, as long as it works?” Muerdox asked quickly, as if impatient and annoyed.

“Uh…” I don’t think I’m any of the above. Yhria wanted to say, “I guess I’m…” Was she fast or strong? She couldn’t lift a stone cauldron like her brother could, but she reacts fast. During her years in the healing cathedral, when a patient is dying, she needed to get a medicine fast, and she needed to think quickly. When a patient as an unexpected reaction to certain things, she had to react to that as well. “I’m fast.” she decided, “I react quickly, because back in my home, patients who are dying or react unexpectedly to a certain medicine need an alternative treatment, and I need to think quickly if I want to save the patient.”

Muerdox nodded thoughtfully, “Very good. You’ve trained yourself to react quickly. But during self defense, little girl,” he said in a serious tone, “you always react fast because you’re saving yourself, got that? Save yourself before saving others. Don’t try to be the hero.”

That was the very opposite of what she was taught, but Yhria only nodded, “Okay.”

“Also, what is your name? I never caught your name.”

“Yhria.” she heard herself say.

“Yhria…” Muerdox was silent for a moment, then he straightened, “So, Yhria,” he leaned forward, “your fast, and you think quickly as well. But are you strong?”

“Physically?” when Muerdox nodded, she continued, “No, I’m not.”

Muerdox tapped his chin, “I see.” he pointed at her arms and legs, “Do you run fast?”

“I guess I could sprint for some time.”

“Do you climb?”

“No.”

“Are your arms as strong as your legs?”

“I don’t think so.”

Muerdox pushed off of the tree he was leaning on, “Then, we need to work on your arms’ strength.” he pointed at a branch above him, “Hoist yourself up onto this branch, and lower yourself, but don’t let your feet touch the ground.”

Yhria grabbed onto the branch and pulled herself up. Instantly, her arms started to hurt. She hissed, but lowered herself again, and hoisted herself back up.

“I know it hurts.” Muerdox sat down on a rock, “But if you want to use your fists in combat, you have to have some power in those bony arms of yours.”

Yhria felt the bark rubbing her skin. “Fists?”

“Since you can’t wield a weapon with your feet, and your arms will never be strong enough to wield a real sword, I can only train you to defend yourself without any weapons.”

Oh. Yhria thought, her heart weighing down with dread. “What about.” she grunted as she pulled herself up, her arms trembling, “A short blade? Or a knife?”

“I could do that.” he spread his arms, “But do you see any other weapon on me besides my sword?”

“You could. Train me. With a few. Sticks.”

“Yes, but then you’ll only get the movements down, and in real life, a knife is much heavier than a stick.” Muerdox made a good point.

Yhria huffed as she hung from the branch, resting for a few seconds, “What about darts? Or crossbows?” she hauled herself back up.

“Long range weapons aren’t very useful in melee combat, are they?” Muerdox tilted his head, his eyes glistening with amusement.

“But if you shoot your opponents down before they can reach you, you don’t have to fight hand to hand.”

“Yes, but if you were in an ambush, you wouldn’t have time to shoot all your opponents, now, would you?”

Yhria sighed. Her arms ached, it was as if acid were burning her from the inside. “I guess not.”

“There you go.” Muerdox dusted his hands, “Let’s go for a run.”

Yhria meant to lower herself from the branch, but her arms gave away, and she landed hard, “Run? In the dark?”

Muerdox looked over his shoulder, “I don’t see any sunlight.” he called.

“But I can’t see in the dark.”

“If you trip, you would learn to watch your footing. If you crash into a tree, you’ll know how to avoid things in the future. If you fall off a cliff…” he shrugged, “Then you’ll learn not to fall off cliffs in the spirit world.”

Yhria was already panting after a few minutes.

“I thought you said you could sprint for long distances.” Muerdox said besides her, he seemed perfectly fine.

“I said maybe.” she panted, “And by… long distances… I mean… a few hundred meters…”

“Ah, I see.” Muerdox nodded, “How are you doing?” he asked after a while.

“Not.” she gasped, “Good.”

Muerdox slowed the pace until they were walking. Yhria braced her hands on her knees and breathed heavily.

“No, stand upright.” Muerdox instructed, “You can’t breath properly if you’re all hunched over.”

Yhria stood upright, but instantly felt sore. She bent back down only to get pulled back up, “Breath deeply and exhale.” Muerdox said.

She obeyed. Her racing heart made it harder, but she tried anyways.

“We have a lot of work to do.” he sighed and gestured towards her, “Come on, I’ll show you how to start a fire instead.”

“Wait!” Yhria’s hand shot out and grabbed Muerdox’s arm.

Muerdox turned, “Yes?”

What I did to Luna’s daughter was a mistake. She had realized this when she fled the city, but she didn’t have the courage to look back. Now that she forced herself to think about it, she knew it was wrong. “Can you…” how can she phrase this? “Do you know how to undo curses?” Muerdox was a fighter, Yhria could tell, but behind those amethyst colored eyes, she could saw great power. If Yhria ever stared into a mage’s eyes, she had a feeling his gaze would look just like Muerdox’s.

Muerdox didn’t reply immediately, instead, a shadow darkened his eyes. Yhria could see concern and maybe pity, but there was alarm and fear as well, as if he were caught stealing something precious.

Yhria didn’t have time to have second thoughts before Muerdox replied calmly, “No, I don’t.”

Hope abandoned Yhria. Why was it that every time she asked something who was suppose to be powerful of something and they couldn’t answer? I’m sorry, Luna. Yhria wanted to say, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing can undo her actions now.

A dark and almost evil expression crossed Muerdox’s face, “Don’t ever ask that question again.” his voice low and dangerous.

Solar

Solar walked down the hall of the Palace of the Phoenix. Asheen was told to prepare for the journey, while Laurai and Leo waited outside.

But when Solar walked into the armory, he found the little boy, Leo, tweaking with one of Solar’s crossbows.

He dropped it when he saw the Phoenix King come in.

Solar didn’t yell at him, he only looked at the crossbow and back at Leo, “I heard that crossbows were the primary weapons of Wintertide?” he asked, not truly believing it.

Leo scowled, but nodded. Before Solar made another comment, though, Leo interrupted him, “And war hammers and battle axes.” he added

Solar nodded, “I see.” he knelt down a few meters away, “So, do they train you to use weapons?”

Leo looked up, his eyes flared, “I can fight as well as any man, Everblaze fiend, never forget that!” Solar was taken aback by how much anger was in the boy’s voice. Too much anger. It’s not right for a child. He thought.

Solar raised a hand peacefully, “Of course, I never said anything against that.” he stretched his arms out, “Can I have that crossbow?”

Leo hesitated, then picked it up and gave it to him. “Thank you.” Solar said and placed it on the wall, “How did you manage to get this?” Solar asked, gesturing at the distance between the crossbow and the ground.

Leo pointed at his wings, “I can fly, you know. It’s not like only Wintertide soldiers learn how to use these wings.” he muttered.

“Tell me, Leo.” Solar sat down on one of the crates and folded his arms, “Are you ambitious?”

Leo narrowed his eyes, “Is that a trick question?” he growled.

Way too much anger and hate. Solar couldn’t help but concern the boy. What happened to Leo that made him hate us so much? “No, not a trick question. Just a question.”

Leo didn’t relax one bit when his hands curled into fists, “Yes.” he gritted his teeth.

“Let me be blunt, Leo. Why do you hate us so much?” Solar asked gently.

Leo’s eyes blazed with fury, but he didn’t say anything. Solar sighed, “Alright, let’s talk about your sister.”

“What about her?”

Solar shrugged, “I notice that she’s very frightened, Leo.” he said, “Do you know anything that might make her fear ease a little?”

Leo placed his hands on his hips, “And why should I tell you?”

“I want to help her.”

“You mean to hurt her.” Leo snarled, “You’re going to make her suffer, just like what you did to my ancestors!”

Solar stood, “No, I don’t.” he said softly but firmly.

Leo bared his teeth, “If you touch her, I swear to gods themselves–” Asheen chose that moment to come in. Leo looked away immediately, his fists became white and Solar thought he saw blood.

“Sorry if I’m disturbing anything.” she looked as if she knew what the two people were doing, “We’re reading to go, my lord.” she addressed Solar.

“Take Leo. I’ll be there in a moment.” he turned back to the window of the armory as Asheen ushered Leo out of the door.

Uncle, why did you chose me? Ares is a good general and a tactic. Why don’t you choose him? Sure, he wasn’t as good as fighting as Solar, but he was a good person. He would lead when he must, and give others a chance to experience leadership. He’s a good tactician, he studies math, magic, the arts of healing, and music. He’s also smart, wise, and generous. Why didn’t his uncle chose Ares? Was it because his uncle wanted someone who knows how to defend Everblaze? Or was it because of his temper?

Solar glanced around the room and found the first sword he wielded. It was small, almost as short as a hunting knife, but it was special. Solar remembered why.

Because his father gave it to him on his seventh birthday.

He still remembered his first time holding an actual sword; it was the most magical thing he’s ever experienced. Just by holding it made him feel like an invincible general.

The door creaked open. Solar turned and found his two cousins, Ares and Horace, come in.

“Oh, Lord Solar.” Ares stopped, “I’m sorry if we are disturbing you.” he started to go back outside.

Solar held up one hand, “No, stop, Ares.” he said quietly.

Horace obeyed, but Ares was a bit more reluctant, as if he didn’t want to talk to his cousin.

“Don’t just stand there.” Solar mumbled, “Come here.”

Ares sighed and came in. He wasn’t armed, it was as if he just woke up from a long nap. Horace, on the other hand, was armed to the teeth. His red and gold plate armor glistened as if it had just been polished, his long bow was slung over his shoulder, and so was his fire arrows. On both sides of his hips were swords in black scabbards. Even his gauntlets were spiked, and under his right arm was his black helmet.

“I hear that you’re getting ready to depart, cousin?” Horace spoke up.

Solar nodded, “Yes.”

“Be careful in the Silverwind Peaks, Solar.” Horace warned, “The people of Wintertide do not welcome us Everblaze spawn.”

“Was there a reason why you wanted to see us, my lord?” Ares asked in a quiet voice.

“Oh, for gods’ sakes, Ares!” Solar couldn’t keep his frustration at bay any longer. He didn’t like people calling him ‘king’ or ‘my lord’, it just didn’t sound right. “I’m not some holy priest or a demigod! I’m Solar, your cousin!”

“My cousin is now the king of Everblaze.” Ares’s eyes glistened with the slightest anger, “If I’m not suppose to call him my lord, what should I call him?”

“Cut it out, Ares.” Solar felt like a child again, but he was too angry to care.

“Maybe I should start calling him your majesty if he’s not satisfied.” Ares continued to mutter.

“Ares, stop it.” Horace said quietly.

“Oh, should I get slaves to carry you around, your majesty?” Ares asked with bitter sarcasm.

“Enough.” Solar growled.

“Do you want me to do anything for you, your majesty? How about a carriage made of gold? Maybe you should let your cousins carry you to battle because you’re so much more important than the rest of your family.”

“Ares–“

“I’ll do anything you say!”

“Cousin–“

“I’m just a lowly mortal who doesn’t deserve the attention of my king.” he spat out the last word as if it were poison.

“SHUT UP!” Solar roared.

Horace took a pace backwards, one hand reaching for his sword.

Ares, however, glared at Solar coldly.

Solar took several slow breaths before continuing, his voice calm, “I didn’t choose to be king, Ares, your father did.”

“Oh, so now you’re blaming it on my father, is that it?” Ares took a challenging step forward.

The king raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, “No, I am not.”

“Because, if that’s the case, Oh mighty one,” Ares growled, “then you’re not the person I thought of as a brother.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Of course, Oh mighty one.” his eyes glowed with defiance.

“If you keep doing that–“

“You’ll lock me up in the dungeon? You’ll lash me with a scourge?” Ares sneered, “Go ahead, I won’t stop you. After all, what can I do? You’re the Phoenix King of Everblaze. And I’m just a lowly mortal.”

Horace gripped Ares’s arm, “Ares, stop it.” he said softly.

“What is going on here?” another one of Solar’s cousin, Aephlaem, demanded. She was wearing a dark purple and black dress with her hunting knife on her belt. “I heard Solar yell.”

At least someone here wouldn’t call him my lord. Solar almost thanked her for calling him by his name. “It’s nothing, Aephlaem.”

Horace nodded, not willing to drag his sister into this, “Yes, don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry?” Aephlaem’s eyes widen, “I heard Solar roar and you tell me not to worry?”

“It’s really nothing.” Solar insisted.

“Horace, Aephlaem, can you excuse us for a moment?” Ares’s voice was so low Solar had to strain to hear.

Oh, here we go again. As much as Solar hated arguing with Ares, what he hated more was when Ares got a hold of himself and apologize like his life depended on it. Solar never dismissed him whenever he apologized, though, because he knew how hard it was for Ares to keep his temper at bay.

Aephlaem was still confused, so Horace murmured the story to her as they went out the door.

“I’m sorry.” Ares blurted once they shut the door, “I’m really sorry, Solar. I tried to keep myself from getting angry, but…” he faltered.

Solar took a step forward, “But…?”

Ares swallowed nervously, “Nothing.” he shook his head, “Forget about it. I’m sorry.” he turned to head for the door.

“Ares!” Solar called, and to his relief, Ares stopped. “I get it. I understand.”

Ares looked over his shoulder, “No, you don’t.” his voice showed no hostility or anger, but his voice was heavy. Before Solar could reply, he left, leaving the door half open.

“What took you so long?” Asheen asked when Solar emerged from the doors of the palace.

“Just a… talk.” he didn’t want to say argument, because everyone’s just going to start worrying all over again.

Leo snorted, and Laurai elbowed him, but Solar just glanced at them wearily, “Come on, let’s go find your father.”

Vessago

They’ve spent days flying, yet all they found were clouds, mountains, and rocks. Vessago would’ve decided to use magic and directly teleport them to Everblaze if it weren’t for Saleos’s incredibly sharp eyes.

What Vessago really hated about his brother was that he had a tendency to stop abruptly without warning. “Wait!” he held up a hand.

Vessago was thrown off balance, and would’ve been cast from the sky if it weren’t for his trained reflexes. “What? What?” Saleos sounded a bit worried, so Vessago assumed he remembered something important.

“Footprints.”

Footprints? Vessago thought, irritated. Of all the things Saleos chose to stop abruptly for and throw Vessago off balance and risk his life, he chose footprints? Vessago had to admit, though, his brother’s eyesight was above average for sure. The people of Wintertide had better eyesight than any other race in Haeloria, but Saleos’s was by far the best Vessago has ever seen.

“They’re fresh as well.” Saleos made a ninety degree dive. Vessago struggled to keep up, but it was as if the wind weren’t in his favor. Besides, Saleos has always been better at flying than Vessago was.

When Saleos landed three meters hovering above the air, he looked calm. Unlike Vessago, who was pale, sick to his stomach, and had a major headache. Saleos lowered himself to the ground slowly and touched the frozen earth, “Maybe a day’s walk from here.” he muttered.

Vessago stumbled to his knees as he landed in a very un-graceful manner, at the last second, he thrust out his hands and braced his fall. His heart slowed down after a few moments which seemed like an eternity.

Saleos, on the other hand, was still crouching down, his eyebrows furrowed with concentration, “This person wasn’t in a hurry.” his fingers traced the outlines of the footprints, “But he was tired.” he pointed at the next footprint.

Vessago panted as he got up, “What?” he gasped for air. He knew Saleos was a good tracker and hunter, but that didn’t give him an excuse to ignore his brother.

“His footsteps are heavy, but complete.” Saleos explained quickly, “Meaning that he was tired, but not in a hurry to get anywhere. If he were in a hurry, these footsteps would be incomplete.”

“Yes, I know, Saleos.” Vessago muttered, “I took the same tracking and hunting lessons as you.” he still remembered that particular day.

But Saleos didn’t seem to hear him. His fingers pressed the earth, “No one has ever crossed this side of the border for centuries.” he murmured, “The necromancers are neutral, they never start a war…”

“Saleos.” Vessago said.

He still ignored him, “But what if it has something to do with the ransom?” he said to himself.

“Saleos?” Vessago said a little louder.

“No, the necromancers and the dead never concern themselves with the outside world. Maybe someone broke out of the Asylum…”

“SALEOS!” Vessago shouted.

Saleos leapt to his feet, his crossbow half raised, “What? What is it?”

Vessago placed his hands on his hips and tapped his right foot like an impatient child, “Mind if you tell me what’s going on?”

Saleos didn’t have time for this, “I cannot explain now. There are three people wandering into the borders of Silverwind Peaks.” he pointed from the spot where the footprints started, “From the looks of it, I’d say they teleported here.”

Vessago pointed at the mountain, which didn’t look right, “What happened there?” he waved at the ashen ground, “And what happened here?”

Saleos looked at the mountain, “There was an avalanche.” he replied, “But I can’t explain the ashen ground.” he beckoned Vessago, “Come, brother.” he spread his wings and took off.

They spotted the invaders a few minutes later.

Normally, the distance they covered would’ve taken a day or two to cross by foot, but their wings made things much easier. They glided across the sky and ducked under clouds. Vessago squinted to search for invaders, but all he saw was half melted ice and snow mixed with dirt.

“Do you see anything, Saleos?” Vessago gripped his crossbow, his eyes scanning the ground.

“Yes.” he growled and pointed to their right, “Two young men and girl.” he glided down towards where the invaders stood.

Vessago followed his brother, hardly keeping up in the air, and when they landed, Vessago was barely able to land properly.

The two men whipped around, hands raised and purple light and flame coiling around their fingers. One of them had pale blonde hair that looked silver, his dark eyes had silver streaks in them, as if there were lightning crackling in those orbs of night. His skin was tinted with gray and was stretched out, as if it wasn’t his real skin. Vessago could make out his rib cage, and he could almost see through the skin and glimpse a part of the bone. He was tall, but he wasn’t a fighter.

The second was a bit shorter, but more muscular. He looked like he had gray bruises all over his white skin, and his messy black hair didn’t look solid, more like a spirit’s hair. The man didn’t have pupils when Vessago looked at him straight in the eye, but when he looked away, he thought he could see purple, bloodshot eyes. Coiling around his hands were bolts of electricity and crystal clear water. Vessago also noticed that both men had no shadow.

There was something that the lord of Wintertide couldn’t place about the two men. Both had physical bodies, but neither of them had a lively look like most people had. They had the eyes of an ancient beast, but the body of an ordinary mortal. They weren’t animated dead, but they weren’t alive either.

The girl was the youngest of them all. Her thick and tangled black hair was a mess, and her amethyst eyes like crystals. She wasn’t tall, in fact, she was considered the average height of a mortal woman. Her skin was normal, and so were her eyes, unlike the other two. She was slim and fragile looking, she looked so weak Vessago thought that knife on her belt was only to scare people away.

Saleos raised his crossbow and aimed at the two men, “Who are you?” he demanded sharply.

The muscular one spread his arms in a helpless gesture, he smiled cheekily, “Sorry, but I don’t answer someone who’s aiming a crossbow at my heart.” though Vessago had this nagging feeling that the young man wasn’t vulnerable to crossbow bolts.

Saleos didn’t take any chances, “I asked you a question, now I expect you to answer.”

“Can’t we just settle this like civilized people?” he was still smiling, as if he didn’t care about the risks he was taking.

The thinner man besides him glared at his companion, but he kept his mouth shut. As for the girl, her hand was rested on her knife’s hilt.

“Why did you cross our borders?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know there were going to be patrols in this area. You’re far away from the Crystal Star, soldiers.” the man said, amusement gleaming in his eyes.

The Crystal Star was the capitol of Wintertide. That was where the palace of Winter was built, and where most citizens of the Silverwind Peaks lived.

“We aren’t soldiers,” Saleos started.

“Enough, Saleos.” Vessago cut in.

His brother looked at him, astonished. In the Wintertide tongue, he asked, “They crossed our borders, Vessago. And now you’re permitting them to leave?”

The young man in front of them surprised both lords when he said, “Talking about others in a different language is very rude, my lords.” he said in the same language.

Vessago and Saleos were left gaping. No one knew the language except for those who live in the Crystal Star. The young man laughed, “You should see your faces.” he said in the common tongue, “I can see your sharp teeth and your eyes bulging.”

Saleos pulled the trigger.

“Wait, SALEOS!” Vessago roared.

An Ice Bolt shot out. One moment, Vessago thought he could see the bolt shooting towards the young man, but the next thing he knew, the man was holding onto the bolt between two of his fingers.

He clicked his tongue, “Very rude, indeed.” he shook his head. The Ice Bolt melted into nothingness between his two fingers.

Vessago gasped, his hear weighing down with fear and dread. He read about such magic being done by only the most powerful of all creatures: Servants of the Thirteen Hells. He didn’t know how anyone had enough power to summon such creatures, but Vessago had no time to ponder on that. Right now, there was a servant of Hell standing right in front of him, and Vessago was not ready to face the Trials.

“Saleos, don’t fire.” Vessago warned, “They’re servants of Hell.”

Saleos lowered his crossbow and gaped at his brother, “You’re mad, Vessago! No one can summon the servants of Hell, and you know what happens when the demon sends one.”

The Wintertide lord did, in fact, know what happens. There would be a day where nightmares occur. Children would cry and ill luck spreads the lands. There will be no sun that day, only storm clouds. And by night, strange sounds would be made in the shadows, and storm clouds would bring thunder and lightning.

There was only one reason why the demon sends his servants: Someone cheated death and the trials awaiting.

“Very good, you know what we are.” the young man smiled, it wasn’t kind nor cruel, “Now, let us introduce ourselves, my name is–“

“Shut up.” the other man muttered, “We don’t have time.”

The man looked offended, “We always have time to introduce ourselves!” he turned back to Vessago, “My name is Samael. This is Rhyland,” he gestured towards his companion, “and this is Kyrstrai.” he jerked his thumb at the girl.

Vessago gripped his crossbow, “What are you doing on Wintertide’s lands?” he asked quietly.

“I apologize if our presence here caused any inconvenience, but we really need to pass through this mountain range. It’s either that or the Barren Desert.” he shook his head, “And only a fool would go through the Barren Desert.”

Saleos’s eyes flared with anger, his knuckles turned white, and his teeth were clenched. Vessago glanced wearily at his brother, “Not now, Saleos.”

“Did I offend your brother?” Samael asked innocently.

Yes. Vessago thought. His wife and children went through the Barren Desert because his sons were to afraid to go through the Dead Land. And now they’re dead.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Samael dipped his head, “I didn’t know that.”

Saleos was silent.

“Now that that’s settled.” Samael dusted his hands, “We really need to be going, otherwise my friend here,” he patted Rhyland’s head like a dog, “would die of impatience and anger. Hey, did you know that more cells die when you’re angry, Rhyland?”

“Yes, Samael. Now let’s go!” Rhyland grabbed Samael’s arm.

“Where are you heading?” Samael asked instead of going with Rhyland.

Vessago tried to stop himself from thinking. My children are at Everblaze. But Samael was already tilting his head in curiosity, “Why? Were they captured?”

I don’t know. Vessago’s mind seemed to be responding by itself.

“Ah.” Samael nodded, “I see. Well, Everblaze is that way.” he pointed up the river, “I can teleport you there if you like.”

“No, thank you.” Vessago said hastily. He didn’t want to deal with any type of magic the servants of Hell used.

As if Samael didn’t hear what Vessago said, his hands started to glow, “It’ll be fine, don’t worry.” before Vessago could say anything, the green fire coiling around his fingers shot towards Vessago and Saleos and consumed them.

As if they were shooting past forests, mountains, and villages, Vessago felt his skin stretching and his skull cracking. For a second, everything around him was a blur of green, gray, brown, and white. He felt hot and cold at once, and sometimes there wasn’t wind, sometimes there was. He could feel the warmth of the sun for a millisecond before it was taken away.

Then, a blast of scorching heat almost turned Vessago’s entire body into ash. He could feel his Ice Bolts melt into hot water. Blisters formed on his pale skin, and the tips of his hair started to glow with sparks of flame. The water from his Ice Bolts dripped onto the ground and hissed.

He could here the distant rumble of the constantly active volcanoes. Lava sputtered out of the mountains, and billows of smoke rose to the peak of the sky. In the smoke, he could see shadows of creatures. The sound of roaring and metal clashing and pounding would’ve made any ordinary Wintertide creature go deaf. The mountain ranges guarding Everblaze were the home of the Fire God. Beyond the mountain range would be the Fire Gates, where thousands of Everblaze soldiers who serve House Phoenos are ready to face any battle.

The air itself was filled with ash and smoke that made Vessago choke. He could hardly breath, for each inhale brought unbearable heat into his lungs.

Saleos was coughing violently, one hand on his mouth, while the other was clutching his chest. His crossbow was dropped to the side, and his wings were scorched.

He wasn’t blessed by the Winter Guardians like I was. Vessago remembered. He doesn’t have the same protection I have from the Everblaze climate.

“Saleos.” Vessago placed one hand on his brother’s back, “Are you alright?” his heart pounded against his chest.

“Vessago…” Saleos gasped, “I will not survive… long in this weather…” he choked and coughed, tears spilling down his face.

“You will survive, Saleos.” Vessago said firmly, “Don’t you give up on me.”

“I’ll try…” Saleos straightened, but ended up coughing again.

“Please, Saleos.” Vessago put one of Saleos’s arms around his shoulder, and with his other hand, Vessago held onto his brother’s shoulder and supported him.

“I’ll… I’ll be fine…” Saleos sounded like he was trying to assure himself.

Vessago winced as Saleos started choking and make stuttering gasps, trying to get enough air.

Don’t die on me, Saleos. Vessago pleaded silently. If Laurai and Leo are truly dead, you’ll be the only family I have left.

Yhria

The way Muerdox told her never to ask him about curses still made Yhria uneasy. He was more cautious when answering Yhria’s questions after that night, and he didn’t talk more often.

Yhria hoped she didn’t offend or anger the warrior in any way.

“Muerdox?” Yhria asked a week after that incident.

Muerdox’s eyes snapped towards her direction, the alarm was still in his gaze, but he forced himself to relax and answer quietly, “Yes, Yhria?”

“How did you end up in the Misty Glades? No one has ever gone this far into the woods before.”

Muerdox flexed his fingers, sparks of fire appeared on his finger tips, “It’s complicated.” he said slowly, “It involved a lot of natural power.”

Yhria didn’t understand what he meant by natural power. “What’s natural power?”

“The essence of Haeloria.” Muerdox replied, “It’s like the life force of this land.”

“You know how to use it?”

“I channel the power. Imagine me as a metal rod, and lightning is the essence of Haeloria. When I need it, I channel it through my body and soul and inflict it upon whatever I desire.” he said.

“Is it dangerous?”

“Dangerous? Yes, but only if you don’t know what your doing.”

Maybe if I learn how to use this, I’ll be able to undo the curse on Lyriel myself. “Can you teach me?”

“I thought you wanted to learn how to defend yourself.”

“Can’t you defend yourself with magic as well?”

Muerdox sighed, “Learning how to summon the essence of Haeloria is harder than learning how to swing a flail without bashing your friend’s or yourself’s head.”

So it’s hard. Yhria thought. “But can you teach me?” she repeated her question.

“Yes.” Muerdox nodded, “But I won’t.”

Anger sparked within Yhria, “Why not?” she demanded. I’m trying to undo what I did to my niece!

“I’m sorry, Yhria, but some things just cannot be used.”

So he refuses to help me. I guess I just have to figure it out myself. “I know it’s dangerous, and I’m willing to take the risk.”

“Well, I’m not!” Muerdox snapped. “And never ask me anything regarding magic ever again.”

Yhria didn’t understand why he doesn’t let her learn magic but uses it himself. For the next few days, she trained silently while trying to find a way out of the Misty Glades.

What lies beyond the Misty Glades? Yhria wondered. Is it a huge city where great inventions are founded, and where they educate students to become the best scholars and philosophers ever? Or is it a battlefield? Where wounded suffer and women and children are killed for no reason? If that’s the case, I can help them. I can heal them, and then everyone could make peace with each other.

“Muerdox?”

The warrior stopped, his eyes narrowed as he turned, “What is it, Yhria?”

“What lies beyond these forests?” she pointed at the direction they’re heading towards.

Muerdox sighed, “The Barren Desert, home of the rogues and outlaws.”

Yhria was disappointed, “The home of what?”

“Rogues and outlaws. The only city in the Barren Desert is the city of Rjaedai, which lies north of the land of sandstorms.” Muerdox placed one hand on the hilt of his sword, “If you head north of our position right now, you’ll find the City of Swamps, where basilisk riders guard the Idol of the Hydras. If you go west, you’ll eventually get to the Reign of the Fire God, the mountain range that marks the border of Everblaze. If you go south from there, you’ll find the Unknown Land. If you go west, you’ll end up in the Silverwind Peaks, the mountain range that marks the border of Wintertide. If you go north again, you’ll end up in the Dead Land.” Muerdox sighed, “And the Barren Desert lies in the center of all the borders facing in towards Haeloria.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I’ve traveled in my youth.” Muerdox didn’t seem that old, though.

“Isn’t it weird that the center of Haeloria is the Barren Desert?”

Muerdox was silent, then, in a low voice, he said, “There is a story for that, you know.”

Yhria tilted her head, “Tell me.”

He sighed again, “It’s a long story.” he warned.

She shrugged, “I have the time.”

Muerdox eyed her, “Yes, you do.” he cleared his throat, “Some thousand years ago, a mysterious race arrived to Haeloria. They practiced magic on each other, trying to perfect themselves. They would shape wings for each other, and inflict magics to make each other stronger. But the people who were inflicted by the magic felt alienated, and it soon turned to anger. They broke away from their race and ran off. They fought each other to gain control over Haeloria.

Meanwhile, back in the home of the mysterious race, people tried to undo what they did to their own kind, but the more magic they used, the worse it got. Fear and hate got the better of that race until there were only a few hundred people who refused to be driven by their emotions. The entire race was thrown into chaos, they went after their magic inflicted family members, killing each and every one of them, calling it mercy and sparing them from great pain.

Mielyndra, the goddess of loyalty and honesty, watched as this race brought destruction upon themselves. She sent her servants, the Shaeirlea, to stop this madness. But the mysterious race’s emotions were stronger than Mielyndra had anticipated. Her weaker Shaeirlea succumbed to anger and frustration. Soon, only the strongest of Mielyndra’s servants survived. Mielyndra’s son, Xyvion, decided to go down to Haeloria and stop the bloodshed himself. He led his armies of Shaeirlor, lesser Shaeirlea, and stormed to the battlefields. The mysterious race built simple yet incredibly lethal weapons. It was nothing like Mielyndra nor Xyvion have ever seen before. This race was very resourceful, ambitious, and extremely intelligent. Their tactics were unfamiliar to Xyvion, and the god was unable to defeat the armies, so he returned to his mother.

Mielyndra saw how her son didn’t keep his word, that he would destroy the armies of the mysterious race. She fell into despair, seeing no hope in stopping the powerful race. She banished her son to the battlefield as a mortal, and in her anger, she destroyed every single living traitor on the field into dust and sand. Her life force was drained, and she fell eventually, but before she died, she made sure no one would ever turn against his or her own race, and spared the people who haven’t given up on hope and reason.

As for her fallen Shaeirlea and her son’s spirit, she sent them to the north, where they would rest in peace. She granted them a beautiful and luscious land where life would flourish. Mielyndra’s sister, Sielyndrae, guarded the land day and night, warding off any evil spirits. She created a peaceful race to build a civilization. They protected the spirit of Xyvion and the Shaeirlea, and Sielyndrae made sure that they healed the weak, instead of casting them out.

And the dust and sand that the traitors became? They made up the deserts. That’s why the only similarities that all the races of Haeloria have now is to banish their traitors into the Barren Desert, because once they die of dehydration, or from the heat, they’ll join their brothers and sisters in crime.” Muerdox glanced at Yhria, “Your hometown is where Xyvion and the Shaeirlea lie, Yhria.” he said quietly, “And you’re the race that Sielyndrae created.”

“That wasn’t very long, though, Muerdox.” Yhria commented.

Muerdox sighed, “Trust me, you’ll prefer the shortened version. The original history of what happened went on for a few thousand years.”

“Oh.” that made more sense, “Muerdox…” she said, “does the mysterious race still exist?”

Muerdox was silent for a few moments. His finger was tapping on the his dark smoke colored sword hilt, “Some say they do, and some say they don’t.” he murmured, “Others say that they are the unknown creatures that live in the Unknown land.”

“Does anyone know what they look like?”

“People have wild imaginations.” Muerdox shrugged, “The most common theory is that they have dragon wings and the power to call a storm. Others claim that they’ve seen them jump into the volcanoes and emerge as fire giants.”

Yhria laughed, “How absurd.”

Muerdox nodded, “Yes… how absurd indeed…”

“Which do you believe the most, Muerdox?”

The warrior shrugged, “I think they look just like ordinary mortals.” he said casually, “That’s what makes them so dangerous. When you underestimate your opponents, you’ve already lost.”

Yhria couldn’t imagine ordinary mortals defeating gods and their servants, though. “But… that’s hard to imagine.”

“Impossible things happen every day. That’s what makes life so exciting.” Muerdox pointed out.

“Was everything in the story true?”

Muerdox nodded solemnly, “Every word, Yhria.” he said in a serious tone.

“What was the mysterious race called?”

“Some call them the Hellspawn, others call them the Bringers of Darkness.” a shadow crossed over Muerdox’s face, in a dark voice, he said, “But I know them as the Race of Men.”

Serena

She struggled each day. Within the cells that she must call home for the rest of her life. Her cousin and older brother in the cells on her right and left. Isidro, her older brother, was staring at the floor, his eyes unreadable. On her left was her cousin, Takeshi Kaito Archer. His eyes were closed, his back was straight, and his shoulders were rising and falling relaxingly. Sometimes Serena thought he was actually meditating.

It’s been five years since they were dragged down to the lowest levels of the Asylum. Apparently, they were declared as insane people. Part of Serena couldn’t blame them. The races outside of the Chronosphere looked as if they haven’t evolved much since they last got here but she always thought aliens would be more technologically advance than humans.

For the first few weeks, she and her cousin and brother have tried to escape, but they never got the chance, and the aliens took their technology away. They wouldn’t even let her keep her headband, which did nothing out of the ordinary.

The Timekeeper

For too long was there darkness. The timeline has not been disrupted for a decade now. In the midst of this peaceful yet dark void, the Timekeeper guarded the heart of the Chronosphere.

But then, there was something. Small, almost impossible to sense, but the Timekeeper felt it.

It was probably nothing, but the Timekeeper does forget even the tiniest disruption in the timeline. It stirred.

Serena

She gasped when she felt it. It’s been ten years since she felt the same frightening sensation. It felt like the time she fell off of a cliff and forgot how to use the parachute, blanking out and dread clawing at her heart, knowing that she was going to die. She has forgotten what it felt like.

It happened frequently when she was a young teenager, when she was thirteen to fifteen years old, but one day, the fearful buzzing voice in the back of her skull suddenly stopped, and the dreadful feeling never came back… until now.

“Serena?” she heard Isidro’s worried voice, “What is it?”

Serena’s tense muscles suddenly relaxed when the dreadful feeling left her. But for a moment, she felt dazed, for the fearful sensation left too quickly, and her mind couldn’t adapt as fast. It was like drowning but suddenly saved. Serena felt shocked after a few moments.

“Serena?” Isidro said a bit louder, “Serena, are you alright?”

“Yes.” Serena said quietly, “I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Takeshi stood up and stood under the torchlight, his face grim, “Don’t lie, Serena.”

Serena glared at him, “I told you, it’s nothing.”

The Timekeeper

It was probably nothing.

It was nothing… nothing… nothing…

Serena

She forced herself to relax as the dreadful feeling slowly passed. The Timekeeper had stirred, which meant there was something wrong with the timeline, or something had disrupted the constant flow of the Chronosphere’s essence.

Serena knew she’s been away from her home to know what’s going on or what will be going on. The last time she reviewed data about the Chronosphere, the only interesting thing she read was that the Chronosphere was charged by something that had nothing to do with science or the laws of physics. Maybe this thing was… well, magic. Her experience out of the Chronosphere and the world of science taught her that there were lots of forms of miracles, and two of them were magic and science.

Then, there was a sound down the hallway, metal clinking against metal, like small mallets pounding against tiny pieces of rock and metal. Then, footsteps echoed closer to their cells.

Takeshi scowled and looked down the hall, his face pressing against the cold iron bars. Serena heard shifting in the cell behind her, it was probably her brother.

Serena stood up as five soldiers dressed in chain mail stood in front of their cells. Their helmets hid most of their faces, but she could tell that they were all young, probably younger than herself. In their hands were spears and swords, two had shields.

One of them stepped up to Isidro and Takeshi, “Which one of you attempted to pick your lock last week?” he demanded.

Takeshi glanced and Isidro. Serena had no idea what they were talking about, but clearly, the consequences weren’t going to be good.

The soldier handed his weapon to someone behind him and traded it for a crossbow. Serena muffled her scream when she saw a bolt hit Takeshi’s neck. Something dark spread under his skin. Isidro stumbled back, his face twisted with anger and shock.

Takeshi took one step back before closing his eyes and falling onto the hard ground, barely breathing.

They didn’t say another word as the soldiers left them. Once they were gone, Serena grasped the bars between herself and her cousin’s cell, “Takeshi!” she hissed desperatly, “Takeshi Kaito! Come on, get up!”

“He’s not bleeding, Serena.” Isidro said.

“But he’s not breathing properly!”

“When a human is unconscious, he requires less oxygen because–“

Serena whirled around and threw up her arms in despair, “I don’t need a lecture on the human body, Isidro! I need to think!”

Isidro turned and folded his arms, “Fine, then.” he muttered angrily, “I’m only trying to help.”

It wasn’t until the next day did their cousin wake up.

Serena was half asleep when she heard a pained groan. Her eyes snapped open and she leapt towards her cousin’s cell blindly.

“Takeshi?” Serena cried.

“Oh my god…” Takeshi was propping himself upright, “There’s a pain behind my eyes… I can’t put a finger on what it is.”

“It’s alright, you’re fine.” Serena reached out and grasped his hand, “You’re okay.”

Takeshi rubbed his closed eyes, “It’s like blood pounding against my skull and eyes.” he muttered. “What happened?”

Isidro called out, “A soldier came in, remember? And he shot a crossbow bolt between your neck and your shoulder. We thought it was poisoned, because there was dark stuff spreading under your skin, but now that you’re awake, I guess it was nothing.”

Serena squeezed her cousin’s hand, “Open your eyes, let me see.”

Takeshi groaned, but he complied. When he did, Serena let go of his hand and gasped in horror.

His pupils were gone, replaced by a blank whiteness, and there was no sign of his warm brown eyes.

“Why is it so dark?” Takeshi’s hands felt the bars, “Serena, are you still there? What happened?”

“Takeshi…” Serena shook her head, “You’re blind!” she took his hand, “I’m so sorry.”

Takeshi fell silent, after a while, he drew his hand away, “Well, that explains the darkness.” he murmured as he walked away and sat down in the corner.

Serena started going through the list of things that could cure blindness, but before she could, the dreadful feeling returned.

The Timekeeper

This time, there was definitely something wrong. Time shifted and started to weaken. The past suddenly went taut and strengthened. The presence wavered and almost stopped. And the future was barely detectable.

But then the future strengthened as well, leaving the presence weak and unpredictable. The past and future split into several possibilities, none of them made sense, but there was one thing in the future before it split into several paths that could change everything, It was blurry and unclear, but very likely to happen, the Timekeeper felt it.

One of the futures is physically linked to the past.

Irethea

The murky swamp water turned into crystal clear river water a few days ago. Irethea could still see a few clumps of algae here and there now and then, but it was still a beautiful sight. There were the Misty Glades on their right, while the Barren Desert was on their left.

Irethea knew that there were beautiful lands beyond the City of Swamps, but she never imagined a place where it wasn’t humid or where there were no birds chirping. All she heard was Scythor’s oar stroking in the water and crickets chirping in the Misty Glades.

It was dusk, and Irethea could see silver streaks and small gleaming things in the dark blue sky. She frowned and pointed, “What are those?” she asked, tensing when one shot through the sky.

Scythor laughed, “You seriously don’t know what those are?” he didn’t believe it.

Irethea would’ve glared at him if it weren’t so beautiful, “No.” she said, gaping in awe.

Scythor scooted closer to her and pointed at the sky, “Those are stars, Irethea.” he said, “There are different myths about them. Some say they’re the spirits of the deceased; some say they’re the creation of the gods.”

“Are any of them true?” Irethea was mesmerized.

“I don’t know.” Scythor shrugged, “But I do enjoy looking at them.”

“Why don’t we have stars in the swamps?” Irethea wondered.

“The fog and the trees block out most to of them at night. But I’ve climbed a lot when I was a child, and these were one of the sights that I enjoyed the most.”

Another shot across the sky, “Wait, what was that?” the streak disappeared.

“That’s a shooting star.” Scythor replied, “Most people like to believe that if you wish for something when you see one, it’ll come true.”

“That’s silly!” Irethea exclaimed.

“Yes, but some people like to believe it.”

Irethea braced her hands on the side of the boat and stared up into the dark night sky. The sun has retreated back into the horizon, but there was still a gleam of red and purple. The rest the sky was dark blue, almost black.

“Would there be more?”

“Yes.” Scythor leaned back and set the oar down, “And if we’re lucky, we get to see a meteor shower.”

“What’s a meteor shower?”

Scythor smiled at her, “You remember that shooting star, right?” Irethea nodded. “Imagine them bigger, and thousands of them rain down like sky fire.”

“But that’ll destroy everything!”

“No, it won’t.” Scythor was still smiling, “I can’t explain it, you’ll have to see in order to understand.”

Irethea still didn’t get how raining sky fire would be beautiful and lucky, but it was Scythor who said it, so she believed it, though she still had the slightest doubts.

“Would there be any other amazing sights?” Irethea asked.

Scythor nodded, “Yes, when we arrive at the Silverwind Peaks, you’ll see the longest and tallest mountain range in Haeloria.”

Scythe appeared out of nowhere, almost crashing into their boat. Irethea yelped, “Hey, down Scythe!” she commanded.

Scythe growled and lashed his tail back and forth, but stayed where he was.

“I think we should stop here for the night.” Scythor took the paddle and rowed towards the shore of the Misty Glades.

“Scythe, keep watch.” Irethea patted her basilisk’s back, “Don’t eat Scythor too, okay?”

Scythe snorted and looked away.

Scythor sighed, “Should we let Scythe take watch? What if he kills me?”

Irethea and Scythe exchanged a glance, and Irethea could’ve sworn his eyes glistened with amusement. Irethea shook her head, “Scythe won’t kill you. I made him promise.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Scythor muttered and lay down on the boat.

Irethea was a light sleeper, but they’ve been travelling for days, and there still weren’t any hostile folk. So she made herself relax and sleep.

Yhria

She didn’t believe it until she saw it.

While she was travelling under the gaze of the moon with Muerdox at her side, she heard the faint beat of wings. Her stomach twisted, knowing that only wyverns were fast enough to flap their wings at that rhythm. She gasped, “Wyvern Riders!” she hissed.

Muerdox frowned, “Wyvern Riders? They shouldn’t be this far from the Mystic Valley. Are you sure they’re wyverns?” he turned and found Yhria looking frantically for a bush or a rock to hide behind.

Yhria could hear the wyvern getting closer, “Muerdox, hide me!” she whispered.

“You can stand and fight, you know.”

“No! I can’t let them know that I’m here!” Yhria said desperately.

The Wyvern shrieked, and she knew it was hopeless. The wyvern had found her.

It landed seven meters in front of her. The rider was no other than her brother, Sauriel.

“S… Sauriel?” Yhria couldn’t believe what she saw.

Sauriel dismounted, “Yhria!” he breathed, “Thank gods, we’ve found you!”

“We?”

Her brother pulled her into a tight hug, “Mother thought you were dead, but no one was allowed to leave the Mystic Valley.”

“You broke the rules?”

“To get you back and save Lyriel.”

Yhria stepped away, “No. I can’t save Lyriel, nor can I go back with you.”

Sauriel seemed to notice Muerdox for the first time. He scowled, “Who’s this?”

“A friend,” Yhria replied, “Muerdox Firebringer. He’s the one who’s leading me out of the Misty Glades.”

“You’re leaving the Misty Glades? But why…” his sentence was cut off by an infant’s cry.

Yhria gasped, “You brought Lyriel?” she struggled to keep her voice down.

Sauriel took a bundle of black furs from his saddle, “I had to.” his voice was quiet, “After Luna died…” he shook his head and glared at the trees, “Kheimon declared this child as a cursed infant, and he was going to burn her.”

“What kind of a father burns his own daughter?” Yhria couldn’t believe what was happening. The Mystic Valley was a land of peace and harmony. Kheimon’s actions could change everything that the people of DragonJade have worked so hard for.

“And… is Luna really dead?”

Sauriel nodded somberly, “Yes.” he handed Yhria the baby, “Take her with you.”

“Why?”

Sauriel’s expression was pleading, “Please, Yhria.” he whispered, “Kheimon would kill Lyriel if he found her.”

Yhria took the infant, but then placed a hand on her brother’s arm, “Come with us, then.” she insisted, “The ShadowBreakers would kill you too if they found out you ran away with the cursed baby.”

“I…” Sauriel glanced at the infant, then at Yhria, finally, he looked behind into the woods, “No, I must go back.”

“But you’ll be killed–“

“And you’ll be safe.” Sauriel rested his forehead against Yhria’s, “Go, Yhria. I’ll convince them that Lyriel is dead.”

Muerdox touched Yhria’s shoulder, “Your brother knows what he’s doing, Yhria.” he murmured, “Let him do it.”

Yhria wanted to cry, but no tears spilled out, “You’ll be safe, right?”

Sauriel didn’t answer. Instead, he broke away from Yhria and mounted his wyvern, “Good bye, Yhria. Take care of Lyriel.” he tugged on his wyvern’s reins and shot off into the sky.

Muerdox beckoned her, “Yhria, come.”

Yhria looked at her niece, who was now sleeping peacefully, “He won’t live, Muerdox.” Yhria whispered.

Muerdox closed his eyes and sighed, “The world could be cruel to us, Yhria. But we must make what we can out of it.” he tugged Yhria’s arm, “Come, Yhria.” he repeated.

Yhria and Muerdox walked in silence for the rest of the night. None of them were willing to risk a break and get caught by more Wyvern Riders.

It was almost dawn when they saw a river.

Yhria gasped, “Is this… this is the end of the Misty Glades?” she couldn’t believe how far she has come.

Muerdox nodded, “Yes. There’s the Barren Desert.” he pointed at a sandy shore on the other side, “And that’s the river I was talking about.”

As Yhria got closer, though, she saw a few shadowy figures. At first, she thought they were just rocks, but then there was a growl. She recoiled, “What was that?”

“An animal.” Muerdox replied quietly.

Then, a drowsy voice came from the figures, “Ugh… Scythe, shut up.” it was a deep male voice.

Another growl, this time it was louder.

Yhria almost jumped into the trees, “Muerdox, what if they’re hostile?”

“Quiet, Yhria.” he snapped quietly.

A female voice joined the conversation, “Now what?” she mumbled.

“Scythe wouldn’t shut up.” the male voice muttered.

A figure rose from the boat and hunched over, “Scythe, be quiet.”

There was some splashing, then a huge animal rose from the river. The clouds parted, revealing a full silver moon. Yhria almost screamed.

The animal was similar to a wyvern, only it had no wings. Its venom colored green eyes blazed threateningly, and its scales’ colors rippled from gray to murky green and brown. Someone could ride on it, only he would most likely be eaten by this creature.

A woman stood from the boat. She was dressed in full plate armor. She pulled on the ropes strapped around the creature’s snout and touched its neck. Yhria winced, half expecting the creature to yank her limbs off, but the beast just growled softly and settled back down.

“That’s a good Scythe.” the woman soothed, “Go to sleep, there’s no one here.”

The man sat up and grumbled, “If there’s no one here, why is he growling like that?”

Lyriel chose this moment to start crying. The creature called Scythe snapped his head up and bared his teeth, snarling. Yhria started to step back.

The woman leapt out of the boat, “A baby?” her hard voice turned soft.

Once she got ten paces from Yhria’s hiding place, Muerdox stepped between them, revealing himself with his sword drawn, “Don’t come any closer. Not unless you want your blood spilled.” his said in a low, menacing voice.

The woman’s hand went to her hilt, but she didn’t draw her blade, “Who are you?” she asked calmly.

Yhria decided to step forward, standing behind Muerdox while her arms around Lyriel tightened. The woman’s gaze went to Yhria and Lyriel. She gasped, “A child!” she breathed, her eyes lighting up.

The man climbed out of the boat awkwardly. Yhria could see that he was no fighter, for his arms were really skinny, and he wasn’t very tall, but there was knowledge in his eyes. Maybe he was a scholar of some sort. Or better, a healer.

“Muerdox, lower your sword.” Yhria hissed, “this man may be a healer.”

“Why do we need a healer?” Muerdox said through clenched teeth, “You’re a healer, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but I can’t heal curses. Maybe this man can!” she said quietly.

Muerdox considered this, then he relaxed the tension in his shoulders a bit, “Are you sure about this, Yhria?” he murmured.

Yhria nodded, “Yes, Muerdox.” she stepped forward, “Excuse my friend here, he could be a bit tense.”

The man raised one hand, “No worries, we did give you a bit of a shock back there.” he admitted.

Irethea walked up to Yhria, “Is that your sister?” she asked quietly, her eyes were shinning.

“No, she’s my niece.” Yhria turned to the man, “Can you cure her?”

The man frowned, “Cure her?” he shook his head, “I see nothing wrong with her.”

“She’s cursed.” Muerdox explained, “She was cursed by…” he trailed off and glanced at Yhria.

Yhria felt angry all of the sudden, “By me. It was an accident, but it was still me.” she mumbled.

The man didn’t say anything, he only gazed into the child’s amber eyes, “What was the curse?”

“Caused by Meila Goldsand and Grounded Winter Root.” Yhria replied.

The man gasped, his face paling and his eyes widening. Irethea frowned, “Is it that bad, Scythor?”

The man, Scythor, stuttered, “I… are you sure it’s Meila Goldsand and Grounded Winter Root?” he touched the infant’s forehead.

Yhria nodded, pressing her lips together.

Scythor looked confused, “Victims die of this, little girl, are you sure it’s Meila Goldsand and Grounded–“

Yhria cut him off, “Yes, yes, it is!” she snapped.

He didn’t seem effected by Yhria’s anger or frustration. Instead, he asked, “How long ago?”

“Two… maybe three weeks?”

Scythor’s fingers brushed the top of Lyriel’s head, “I cannot cure her, but I have read of beings with powerful magics that could help her.”

“Who?” Yhria’s heart was beating very fast now.

“They’re called Flamespeakers. They live up in the north in Everblaze.” Scythor replied, “I can guide you there.”

“Yes, please!” Yhria didn’t have to think twice.

“Wait, Yhria.” Muerdox pulled her to the side and whispered, “What about the talisman? My ancestors would not forgive me if I didn’t find it and restore our family name.”

Yhria’s heart sank. Muerdox was right, she did promise to help him. But Lyriel was cursed, and if they didn’t get help soon, she’ll possibly die.

“But Muerdox…” Yhria pleaded, “Lyriel might die if we don’t get rid of her curse.”

Muerdox sighed, “You don’t understand, Yhria. My ancestors are powerful. They have the ability to come back and haunt the living. They would crush Wintertide, and I’m not ready for that.”

What was more important? Keeping dead people from destroying the world, or saving Lyriel from possible death?  The choice was harder to make than Yhria had expected. As a child, whenever she asked herself if she’ll save the world or save her family, she said that she’d sacrifice anything to save her family from danger. But now, as she faced reality, she was frightened to make the wrong choice.

Yhria looked down at Yhria, who was now sleeping. She didn’t look like she was in grave danger, but Yhria’s experience with sick and weaker people told her that just because someone looks fine doesn’t mean that they are fine.

“Can your talisman wait?” Yhria tried one last time to convince Muerdox.

The warrior, as stubborn as always, shook his head, “No, Yhria.” he leaned in close, “Look, from where we’re standing, Everblaze is closer to us than the Silverwind Peaks, but in order to get to Everblaze, we must make a journey a fortnight long across the Barren Desert before we could get to the Reign of the Fire King. And the only city we’ll find is Rjaedai, the city of rogues. And I’m not going to go through those people again.” he said in a low voice.

Yhria looked at the Barren Desert on the other side of the river. It didn’t look bad, but when the sun was up, she knew it’ll be Hell for anyone.

“Fine.” Yhria sighed, “We’ll find your talisman and save Lyriel. But no more quests until after Lyriel is cured.”

Muerdox nodded, “Of course.”

Yhria turned back to Scythor, “I’m sorry, but we must look for an object first before we could save Lyriel.”

“What could be more important than saving an infant?” Irethea demanded sharply all of the sudden.

Yhria recoiled, “I… I’m sorry, but right now, that object may be more important than Lyriel.” Yhria wasn’t convinced, though.

Scythor touched Irethea’s arm, “It’s alright, Irethea. It’s their business, not ours.” he murmured, then, aloud he said, “Follow the river until you find the Unknown Land’s borders, then keep going north. That’s where you’ll find the Everblaze border.”

“Thank you, Scythor.” Yhria nodded, “And it’s nice meeting you.”

Scythor smiled, “Sure, no problem.” he walked back to the boat, “Come on, Scythe.”

The creature growled.

“What is that?” Yhria asked Irethea and pointed at the beast.

“He’s a basilisk.”

“What’s a basilisk?” Yhria felt like she was three again.

“Imagine a dragon with no wings and his glare could turn you into stone… literally.” Scythor called from the boat.

“What’s a dragon?” Yhria felt so stupid.

“Creatures from the Netherworld.” Scythor answered again, “They look like Scythe, only they have wings.”

Yhria couldn’t imagine the basilisk (that looked like a way overgrown lizard) with bird wings, but she just nodded, “I see.”

“Actually, no one knows what they really look like.” Irethea shrugged as she clambered onto the rocking boat, “But if you see one, my advice is: Run.” she picked up an oar.

Yhria could barely keep a straight face when she pictured a fearsome basilisk with feathery wings. Why would they look fearsome if they have bird wings? But then she remembered the griffins, and had second thoughts.

Muerdox placed his hand on Yhria’s arm, “Come along, Yhria.”

“Good bye, and thanks for the information!” Yhria called towards the boat that was pushed off the shore.

“You’re welcome!” Scythor shouted back.

Once they were out of sight, Yhria shifted her arms so Lyriel would be in a more comfortable position, “Come on.” she said to Muerdox, “Let’s go find your talisman and save Lyriel.”

Solar

Countless days have past since Solar decided to send Leo and Laurai back to the Silverwind Peaks. Laurai was worn out, and Leo was trudging in the very back. Asheen and Solar tried to be as patient as they can, but the longer it takes them to bring the children back to Wintertide, the sooner they’ll die of the heat, and the sooner Lord Vessago would declare war against Everblaze. Solar had so little experience with war tactics, but he didn’t want to look like a fool in front of his generals, and he didn’t want to lead the soldiers into battle blindly.

What would my uncle have done? Solar asked himself multiple times when they were half starved, or the children were sick. Would he have left the sick and weak ones behind? Or would he try his best to save them?

Never ask yourself what would someone else have done. His uncle had once said. Always trust yourself to make the right decision. If you don’t, you’d be better off making the wrong decision. But it was harder than Solar thought.

Solar didn’t really talk to any of his companions while he was walking. Asheen was the social one, and she bonded with Laurai. Leo, on the other hand, sulked every day.

Solar had also noticed that Laurai has been talking to her brother often, and Leo has been casting glances at Solar, some of them are angry, others are unreadable.

Finally, when Solar announced that they’ll stop for the night, Leo walked up to him, and Solar didn’t bother to hide his surprise.

“Leo,” Solar tilted his head, “what is it?” sensing there was something on the boy’s mind.

Leo sat down in front of Solar, wincing at the searing hot ground, “I wanted to… apologize for my behavior back at Everblaze.”

Of all the things he could’ve said, this one was completely unexpected. Solar nodded slowly, “Okay… I forgive you.” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Leo stood up, “I just wanted… to say sorry.”

Solar and Leo were both silent. Asheen walked over eventually and said, “Solar… my lord…”

“Don’t call me that, Asheen.” Solar’s voice held a hint of irritation, “Just call me Solar.”

“Solar,” Asheen sounded uncertain, but she continued, “I hear coughing several meters from here.”

Solar leapt to his feet, “Lord Vessago!” no one but a father would risk everything to get his children back! “Leo, Laurai, get up! Your father’s here!”

They didn’t need to be asked twice. Leo yanked his sister to his feet, “Father!” he cried over the sputtering lava and billowing smoke, “Laurai, father’s here!”

Laurai ran faster than the wind as she rounded the corners of the mountains, “Father!” she shouted, tears spilling down her face.

From all the thick haze, two figures emerged. One seemed younger than the other, and he was leaning weakly against the other’s shoulder. The older one was limping out of the smoke, his breath ragged.

His eyes lit up immediately when he saw Leo and Laurai running towards him. “Children!” he gasped, “Leo, my son! Laurai, dear!”

The younger man looked up and managed a weak smile, “Well, well, look who’s found us.”

Leo crashed into Lord Vessago, “Father…” he whispered, clutching him tight.

Laurai, on the other hand, stopped just before she ran into the other man, and gripped his arm, “Uncle Saleos, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, little one.” Saleos crouched down and wrapped his arms tightly around the girl, “Thank the gods, you’re alright.”

Asheen stood besides Solar, “We have to go, Solar.” she murmured.

“No, wait.” he held up a hand, “I must find a way to make peace with Wintertide.”

Lord Vessago drew himself to full height and met Solar’s gaze, “I am not ungrateful for what you’ve done, Everblaze Spawn, but you must understand what King Aerik did would be hard to forgive.” he said in a calm voice.

“King Aerik didn’t kidnap your children, Lord Vessago.” Solar tried not to sound hostile, “It may seem so at first, but hear me out.”

The Wintertide Lord didn’t seem convinced, but he nodded. Solar continued, “A spirit of Phoenos captured your children, lord. He did it for ransom. Apparently, one of your ancestors stole a family talisman from him, and he wants it back.”

“The Vaults of Wintertide contain nothing of the sort.” He said firmly.

“Then, I’m sorry if we caused any disruption in the Silverwind Peaks.” Solar apologized, “But I would like to negotiate a peace treaty.”

“If Everblaze wishes to negotiate, send your king, soldier, not a messenger.” Lord Vessago replied.

“I am the Phoenix King, my lord.” Solar bowed his head, “I know you remember King Aerik as the lord of Everblaze, but he gave me the throne weeks ago. I am new to the ways of leadership.” Solar knew saying this was risky, because if Lord Vessago learned that Everblaze had a new king, and he was inexperienced, he’d probably take advantage of that and declare war on Everblaze.

When the lord of Wintertide didn’t reply, Solar said quietly, “I know you’re an honorable warrior, Lord Vessago.”

Lord Vessago nodded, “I understand.” he said, “And I am willing to negotiate a peace treaty… however, I would need to ask you to do so in the halls of Wintertide.”

“What?” Asheen exclaimed.

Solar stopped her, “No, wait, Asheen.” he said firmly, then to Lord Vessago, he replied, “Can we not negotiate on neutral ground?”

Lord Vessago folded his arms, “You really are new to this.” he murmured, “There is no neutral ground between Everblaze and the Silverwind Peaks that is safe or…” he paused to search for the right words, “untouched by traitors.”

Solar knew what he meant. The Barren Desert contained millions of souls tainted with traitors’ blood. He knew his history, “I see.” he felt like a fool. How could he have forgotten such things?

“Are you going to ask me why we shouldn’t do it in the Halls of Everblaze?” Lord Vessago asked suddenly.

“No…” Solar mumbled, reddening.

“You are different from the other young Phoenix Kings before you, did you know that?” Lord Vessago commented, “Your ancestors were rash. But you seem uncertain.”

A spark of anger ignited, “I am not uncertain, lord!” Solar snapped.

Lord Vessago tilted his head, “As you wish.” he replied and turned, “Saleos, can you fly?”

His brother shrugged, “I don’t know, Vessago.” he mumbled, gesturing at his singed wings.

Lord Vessago thought for a moment, then, he said, “Laurai, dear, do you still remember your teleportation lessons with your cousin Myra?”

“Yes, of course I do.” she nodded, frowning.

“I need you to teleport all of us back to Wintertide.”

Solar widen his eyes, “Are you sure about this, Lord Vessago?”

“I trust my daughter.” he answered, a hint of finality in his voice.

Laurai held out her hands, “Join hands, please.” she sounded more confident than Solar had ever heard her.

The obeyed, and Laurai started to mumble, her hands glowing with icy blue light. The same silver and blue light came out of Solar’s and everyone else’s eyes and palms. The beams of light joined together and started to change the scene. Instead of the familiar volcanoes and haze, the world around Solar became white and blue. The ground he stood on became soft and white, but as his surroundings changed, the temperature did not.

The volcanoes around them disappeared, revealing a vast open space covered in snow and ice, There were no clouds of smoke covering the sun as it glared down at them.

Finally, when the last of Everblaze was gone, Solar felt a blast of cold against his skin. So cold it felt searing hot. Normally, when Solar touched fire, it felt warm, but this wasn’t warmth, but freezing, blistering cold. He clenched his teeth to keep himself from screaming.

Saleos seemed much better instantly. Lord Vessago looked into the distance, “There’s the Crystal Star.” he pointed at a gleaming tower made of ice and crystal.

Solar was too cold to care. Red lights started to flash in his vision, and he felt fatigued. Lord Vessago turned, “Lord Solar, I can see you’re enjoying the climate here.”

The Phoenix King didn’t answer.

Lord Vessago walked over and picked him up like a child, “Gods, you’re light.” he extended his feathery white wings and launched into the sky. Saleos carried Asheen and let the children fly on their own.

The Halls of Wintertide were simple. The walls and ceiling were made of ice, and the throne was made of clear crystal. A table was set in front of the throne, and it was probably the only thing made of wood in the entire castle. On it was a map of the world and a bunch of other papers. It was warmer in the Halls of Wintertide, so Solar had less problems concentrating.

One of the papers read Taxes and City Management. A few others read: Wintertide Tradition, Culture, and History. He also noticed a stack of books that all read: Wintertide Lords and Records.

“Yes, even kings must study.” Lord Vessago answered the unvoiced question in Solar’s mind as he sat down on the throne. He waved one hand and a chair skit across the ice floor. “Please sit, Lord Solar.”

Solar never knew that the Wintertide people studied magic and the art of war.

Solar sat down and braced his hands on the table, “Lord Vessago, I have come to negotiate a peace treaty between Everblaze and Wintertide.”

Lord Vessago nodded, “Do you know how negotiating goes, my young king?” he asked.

Solar shook his head, “I’m afraid not, Lord Vessago.”

“Then, I shall start.” Vessago leaned forward and braced his arms on the table’s surface, “Lord Solar of Everblaze and House Phoenos, you have left your home behind to negotiate the peace between Everblaze and Wintertide.” he took a blank piece of parchment and, with icy blue ink and a pen made of Silver Ice, he wrote down: Mysa Vinrei, Vessago Stormstriker, CVII callimsa, mordre ixyrine sarei. Wintertide vectruin Silverwind Peaks mykhar Lrea, sve Myiladryn. Tsekryn Grev-Szan cherdre jquin arqvae tyr.

Vessago handed the parchment to Solar, “Write down your terms in the Everblaze tongue.” he said simply.

Solar placed both hands on the parchment and murmured. Gold light started glowing from beneath his palm and his fingertips. Smoke rose from his skin as he printed his terms with the gold fire ink of Everblaze. When he pulled his hands back, the terms were there, gleaming and flickering like fire with gold and red.

‘I, Solar, CXII king of Everblaze and successor of King Aerik, write the terms of peace between House Phoenos and House Wintertide. No one with Everblaze Blood is permitted to cross the Silverwind Peaks’ borders, or the Frozen Sea without House Wintertide’s permission. No one from House Wintertide is allowed onto Everblaze’s lands unless permitted by the Phoenix King himself‘ the golden ink read.

Vessago told Saleos to write down: If both kings agree to these terms, then House Phoenos and House Wintertide have successfully negotiated the peace between the two kingdoms.

Vessago used the Ice blue ink and wrote down in the common tongue: I, Vessago Stormstriker, do agree to these terms.

Solar printed with his hands: I, Solar, do agree to these terms. In the gold ink.

Saleos then wrote down: On this day, the 21st of the 3rd month, Tyrquen, 1371st Haelorian Age, Peace has bridged between House Phoenos and House Wintertide. There will be no war from this day forth, and for the rest of Eternity.

Vessago stood and held out a hand, “Peace.” he said.

Solar took it tentively and replied, “Peace.” they shook their hands firmly.

Vessago asked Solar to walk with him a few hours later, after Laurai and Leo have settled in their rooms, and Asheen was given one of the hundred guest rooms in the Winter Palace.

The gardens were beautiful. Although most of the water in the fountains were frozen, it was still lovely. It was the first time Solar has ever seen a fountain of ice and water, but unlike his ancestors, who would wonder why anyone would want anything else rather than a lava fountain, he thought it was a work of unique art.

“I’m surprised a young king like you would want peace between Everblaze and Wintertide.” Vessago murmured.

Solar shrugged, “I’ve been thinking about it since I studied Everblaze history.” he admitted.

“You’re different from the others.” Vessago pointed out, “And that’s a good quality that not a lot of kings have.”

“Your son is ambitious.” Solar said.

Vessago gave him a small smile, “Yes, he is.” he sighed, “I’ll ask Saleos to escort you to the Silverwind Peaks’ borders.” he said, “I… thank you, Lord Solar, for bridging the peace between Everblaze and Silverwind Peaks. Not a lot of kings would risk their house’s honor for peace.

Samael

Things started to go very wrong when they set up camp.

First, Rhyland and Kyrstrai were arguing because they were blaming each other for ruining the tent. Kyrstrai argued it had to be pulled over a branch, whereas Rhyland thinks it should be supported with sticks and grounded with nails.

Samael decided to play smart and not get into the argument. Instead, he went on a walk.

Samael… A hissing voice echoed through his head. Samael stopped immediately and blinked.

Samael. That voice hissed again. Estro Malaar…

Samael frowned, then, in the Abyssal tongue, he answered, “Step forth, Alastor.”

Just by saying those words made the world darker. Shadows lengthened and opened up a pit that led straight to the Void. Leaves rustled, but not in a lively way. The clouds covered the sun, darkening the sky and the earth.

From thin air, a figure emerged. His eyes were blazing red and purple, and his hair was thin and straw like. He didn’t look like the Everblaze Warrior he had once been, now, he looked no more than a man that was more well muscled than others. Samael tilted his head, “Alastor, what is it?”

The spirit opened his mouth, and in Samael’s mind, he heard him say: There are disruptions in the time line. This caught Samael’s attention. The Devil King never told anyone about the time line unless if it was very urgent and he can’t do everything to change it back on his own. Samael took a step forward, “What disruptions?” he demanded.

The future. There is a possible timeline that exists… it leads back to the past.

For once, Samael was truly shocked, “What? That doesn’t make sense! No one has the ability to time travel!” he exclaimed.

Alastor bared his teeth, No, Samael, you’re wrong. There is a way to time travel. He took a step closer to the servant of Hell. The Unknown Race has.

Samael gasped. The Unknown Race! Very few people knew what their true identity was, but Samael was one of the few. They were the Humans. Merciless, and confined within the borders of the Unknown Land, rumors said that they were plotting the destruction of Haeloria, and everyone, every living being and organism, was to be killed without hesitation. Samael didn’t know how dangerous these humans were, but it was said in the legends that they came as powerful as the gods themselves, and no one knows how far they’ve evolved from now. Some say they evolved faster than regular races, and their intelligence was beyond measure. They were independent, resourceful, intelligent, and extremely dangerous. Samael had suspicions that the transportation carriages that hovered above the ground, the ones making loud noises and blazing white light at them, were an invention of the Humans. They didn’t need weapons, because they can outsmart anyone, and they can make staffs of lightning with just a few scraps of metal, and they can harness lightning. Though they rarely go beyond the borders of the Unknown Land, no one had the courage to go in either.

The Unknown race was already powerful when they first arrived here, but now, they have done the impossible: Time Travel.

Samael narrowed his eyes, “How long have they known Time Travelling?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

Alastor shrugged. A couple of centuries now, Samael. He answered.

Samael turned away and closed his eyes, gathering his thoughts, “What else have they figured out? Anything that we don’t know?”

They can accurately predict when storms hit, where they will be, and how bad they’ll be. They can use even the most chaotic storms to their advantages. Alastor said, And recently, they discovered how to harness deadly elements out of thin air and how to mutate it and make it harmless to them but lethal to other mortal races.

Samael didn’t know what to think. All his mind could comprehend was: The Humans are dangerous! The Humans are dangerous! The Humans are dangerous! Red Alert! Red Alert! Abort mission! Abort mission! Mayday! Red Alert! The Humans are dangerous!

Once he found his voice, Samael stuttered (and he rarely stuttered), “I… they… a… anything else?” he asked, still trying to maintain his authouritive voice and the Abyssal Tongue.

Alastor glared at him, You know that the Humans are capable of much more than just harming mortal races, Samael. He hissed.

Samael forced himself to stay calm, “Have they made any indications that they’re about to strike out?”

No, but mark my words, Samael, they will. Alastor growled. And when they do, there won’t be anything the mortal races could do about it.

“Why did you want to be summoned?” Samael asked, changing the subject. “Did you go through all that trouble just to warn me?”

No. Alastor snarled and looked towards the horizon. I have located the spirit.

Samael scowled, “Where?” he demanded.

Alastor pointed north. Trace the path where you came and you’ll find him. He turned back towards Samael. Once you have found him, your king and master are willing to set you free.

Freedom! The words echoed in Samael’s mind. When he was summoned by his master Necromancer, he was more than willing to serve him. As long as he can escape the Hell from which he came. But as years past, he felt as if he had made a big mistake. Rhyland blamed him for choosing this path, and Samael knew that there was no turning back. Up until now, he thought he was going to live his life in misery, and once his Master Necromancer died, he would be sent back to Hell.

“Why is that spirit and body so important?”

The King of the Abyssal Hells cannot control time, Samael. Alastor said. But he does understand it. And if there were a disruption, he would do anything to prevent it. Right now, this spirit has something to do with the time. I do not know everything, but I do know that your master and your king is keeping contact. The King can’t ask you directly, so he gave your master Necromancer a message and told him to send it to you.

“To retrieve the body.” Samael murmured, finally understanding why his master refused to speak of this. “In order to secure a dead spirit, you must have the body.” he looked up, “So the Humans do know something of this?”

I do not know, Samael. Alastor shook his head. They were harvesting corpses, but that doesn’t mean they know about it.

“It’s too coincidental to be a matter of chances and luck, Alastor.” Samael insisted, “I knew those Humans were up to something…”

Alastor sighed, “I must leave now, Samael.” he retreated into the shadows, “But if the Humans are truly behind this, I’m afraid Haeloria would cease to exist eventually.”

Samael didn’t waste a moment of time. Once Alastor was gone, Samael gathered all his strength and struck out, trying to gain the attention of his King.

It took several attempts, but eventually, he was answered. His king took the physical form of a normal mortal, but Samael knew that this man was far beyond a mere mortal. He wore a blood red and black tunic with murky gray trousers. His hair was the color of hazy smoke, and his eyes could’ve been mistaken as real Fire Agates. Samael couldn’t see any of his king’s skin, for a black and gold mask covered his face, and gloves and boots covered his hands and feet. His king wasn’t tall in his mortal form, and he wasn’t very intimidating at first glance, but the longer Samael stared into those fiery eyes, the colder his blood ran.

“My king.” Samael bowed his head.

“Samael.” the Devil growled, “What is the meaning of this?”

“Alastor told me, my lord.” Samael said reluctantly, knowing his king wasn’t a very patient man, “He told me of the time disruptions and how you’re trying to mend it.”

The King of Hell bared his teeth into a snarl, “That is none of your business, Samael.” he snarled quietly, “What else have you learned?”

Samael shook his head, “Only this, my lord.” he hated calling the Devil ‘lord’, but if he didn’t… Samael already saw what happened to the last person who defied the king.

The Devil sighed, which sounded more like another growl, “Enough, Samael. What you said this day is true, I will not deny it, but you don’t know how much trouble you’ve put yourself in.” he shook his head, “One hundred lashes for what you have done.” his voice hardened

Samael’s blood might as well have been frozen already. His face went completely pale, and his throat was caught in his windpipe. Fear and dread consumed his thoughts as a blazing scourge appeared in the Devil’s hand.

“Kneel.”

Samael didn’t reply, but he obeyed. As the Devil raised his scourge, he murmured a spell and invisible chains shackled Samael to the earth. The first lash came out of nowhere.

Samael clenched his teeth as ten lashes went by… twenty… thirty… at the fortieth, he couldn’t bear any more pain. His scream was agonized, and blood covered his entire body.

“Look up, Samael.” the Devil’s calm voice said.

Samael looked up and met his gaze. The Devil’s smile was cruel, “Now you know the price for defying your lord.” he raised the scourge and lashed again.

His voice was raspy, and his throat was on fire, but Samael screamed anyways. Blood started to sputter out of his mouth.

After several minutes, Samael couldn’t feel anything, not pain, nor emotion. All he did was kneel there. His entire body was numb, and fire seared through his blood and bone. It was so hot, it felt ice cold. Agonizing minutes past, and for what seemed like eternity, his mind was completely shut down.

Then, the lashing stopped. Samael didn’t dare to look up, so he waited. But as moments past, he finally looked up.

Rhyland and Kyrstrai were there, facing the Devil. His king tilted his head, “You managed to get past my barrier of dark magic without dying. Good job.” he smiled, but not in a friendly way.

“What are you doing here?” Rhyland’s voice was quivering, whether it was from anger of fear, Samael didn’t know.

“Your little friend here,” another lash, this time, more painful the others. Samael gasped, for he couldn’t scream any longer. “wanted to have a little chat with me.”

“That doesn’t give you an excuse to scourge him.” Rhyland snapped.

“Oh?” The king turned to look at Samael, “Tell them, my friend. Tell them what you learned today?”

Samael opened his mouth, but he couldn’t speak. His throat was bleeding, and he could taste blood. The stench of it was sickening. Samael’s vision started to get fuzzy.

“Tell them.” the king repeated firmly.

Samael gasped for breath as he whispered, “I… Alastor…” he coughed violently and spat out blood, the pain in his throat was almost unbearable.

Rhyland’s hands curled into fists, “Let him go.” he growled.

“Giving out orders, are you, sonny?” The Devil was still smiling, but the smile never reached his eyes, and his voice was dangerous and quiet.

Rhyland didn’t say anything, but he continued to glare at the Devil defiantly.

“Perhaps you would like a few lashes as well?” the king asked, his voice very soft and dangerous.

Samael whispered, “Don’t be a fool…” but either Rhyland didn’t hear him or he decided to ignored him

Kyrstrai’s eyes glistened with fear, but her knife was unsheathed and her stance was defensive.

When Rhyland still didn’t say anything, the scourge in the Devil’s hands disappeared, but was instantly replaced by a half molten chain. Rhyland’s eyes widen.

“Fine.” The Devil snarled, and after that, he raised his arm and brought down the chain. Samael looked away as Rhyland screamed in agony.

“Watch, Samael.” the Devil purred, “Watch as your friend suffers because of you.” Samael’s head jerked back, and no matter how tight he closed his eyes, he could still see Rhyland getting whipped by the molten chain.

Kyrstrai was screaming, and it must’ve annoyed the Devil, because he flicked his other hand and Kyrstrai went silent.

Samael was nearly drained, but with the last of his energy, he unleashed his anger towards his king. All of his hate that has been building for the past eons was channeled into that attempt to break his lord. Samael was no match for the lord of Hell, but he was the most powerful of his kind, and his powers were dangerous. He welcomed the anger that was fueling his strength, and with that anger, he lashed out against his king.

The chain melted completely, and the Devil was forced back a few steps. That was enough for Samael to summon his halberd and break the chains that was holding him down on this Devil forsaken earth. He reached out with his mental hand, grasped onto the Devil’s essence, and yanked as hard as his mind would let him.

The Devil shrieked, and it was the best thing Samael has ever heard in his entire life.

When Samael let him go, the Devil leapt to his feet and pointed at Samael, “You started this fight, Samael.” the Devil snarled, “And mark my words, you will end it.” and with that, he disappeared.

“Coward.” Samael spat, disgusted and angered.

He almost forgot about Rhyland and Kyrstrai, he turned only to find his companion bleeding and near death.

Kyrstrai was kneeling next to him. She looked up and tapped her throat. Samael flicked his hand and Kyrstrai was freed from the spell, but that was the last of his energy. Once she was freed, Samael fell to the ground, unconscious and near death. 

Serena

Serena didn’t know how long has passed, but she only knew that the dreadful empty feeling in her stomach probably wasn’t going to stop. It was like her internal organs were shifting and her bones being forced, There was no pain (except for the frequent blood pounding against her skull), only a very weird and uncomfortable feeling all over her body. Her dreams are very unusual as well.

The day after she learned Takeshi was blinded, she had the most unusual dream in her life.

She was walking down this path, it looked like an ordinary dirt path, but she could feel, with each step she took, the ground shifting and moving under her feet. It was as if she could feel the hollow earth beneath the surface of the ground and feel the shifts underneath. The only things in front of her was the horizon, no trees, rocks, or buildings. There was no wind at all, and no sun, only dark clouds. Even though all she could see were the dark gray clouds ahead of her, she could swear that the sky had changed. But every time she looked up to check, it looked exactly the same.

And whenever she woke up, there would be a soft hum that echo through her ears for long and dreary minutes.

The dream came to her every night when she slept, but every time, it would be slightly different. Sometimes it was a cobblestone road, sometimes it would be a simple trail. Other times, it would even be a marble staircase. Other than that, everything stayed the same.

The Timekeeper

There were constant shifts in the timeline now, and the Timekeeper was very sure of it. How or why there are timeshifts, the Timekeeper did not know, but one thing was for sure: If the timeline is kept like this, the future already unfolded and destiny already revealed, chaos will make its new home in this realm. The future is suppose to be shadowed and shrouded in mystery, for anything can happen. For it to be written out already is never a good thing, because then it will mean nothing can change it, and the very essence of life and time will perish.

Serena

“Serena?” Takeshi’s voice said.

Serena opened her eyes and saw Takeshi’s back to her. Behind her, she can hear Isidro snoring softly. She sat up and yawned, “Yes, Takeshi?’

“How are we going to get out of here?”

Of all the questions Takeshi could’ve asked, this one probably would’ve surprised Serena the most. It’s been five years since they left the Chronosphere impulsively and ended up in this prison. The first few weeks were torture, mainly because all three of them tried to pick the locks, detonate the cell doors open, or use acid to burn through the metal bars and get whipped. Their captors took their weapons as well, even Isidro’s glasses, which they thought was a mechanism to spy on people. Serena and Isidro both tried to reason with them, but the aliens were stubborn.

“Takeshi, you know what would happen if we try that.” Serena warned.

Takeshi shifted, “I discovered a flaw in their cells.”

Serena almost jumped up at this, “Where? How did you find it?” He was blinded! How could he have found a flaw?

“I’ve spent years in the Academy learning how to disarm traps, Serena. The thing is, though, why did it take me so long to find it?”

“You can ponder about that later!” Serena said quickly, “First, tell me where the flaw is.”

“The cell bars are made of simple Iron and a mixture of some other metal that we don’t know about. But most of it’s iron, if we can just get some water, we can freeze them using the chemicals injected into our blood when we were infants!” Takeshi said.

Serena brightened, “When the chemicals touch the water, it only takes a metallic surface to freeze it! And then the iron would shatter a few hours later because it’s damp and cold enough down here, and we can barge through the bars!”

By then, Isidro was wakened by their excited and loud voices, “Hey… what’s going on?” his voice heavy and drowsy.

“Takeshi found a way to get us out!” Serena whispered excitedly, “All we need to do is to wait for our next few pails of water!”

Isidro frowned, “How is that going to help us?”

Takeshi rushed in to explain, “The bars are made of a simple alloy of iron and other weaker metals.”

It didn’t take Isidro too long to figure it out. His face lit up, “Takeshi, you’re a genius!” he exclaimed, grinning for the first time in months.

 

They waited for hours, shifting restlessly on the ground until the guards came with three pails of murky water. Once they left, Takeshi got to his feet, “Okay, I need something sharp.”

“What about the edge of that stone over there?” Serena pointed at the corner of his cell.

Takeshi sighed, “I’m blind, remember?”

“Oh.” Serena realized, “Oh, yeah. Okay, Isidro, look for something sharp.”

“Will this do?” Isidro picked up a shard of rock.

“Yes.”

Isidro raised the shard of rock and cut his left palm. He hissed in pain as a few drops of blood turned the murky water into a gray and blue tinted liquid. He then picked up the pail of water and splashed it onto the metal bars. The metal was instantly frozen. Isidro grinned, “Nice.”

Serena took the rock and cut herself as well. Her finger turned instantly numb and cold, but compared to the excitement building inside of her rapidly, it was nothing. She let the blood drop into her pail of water and cast it onto the metal, which turned into a pale blue cold surface.

Finally, Takeshi did the same thing, and then they sat there, waiting for the bars to shatter.

 

Serena woke to the sounds of crashing and barging. She sat upright quickly and found Isidro grinning at them, standing at the opposite side of the bars with a teleporter in his hand.

“What the… how did you get that teleporter so fast?” Serena gasped.

Isidro shrugged, “I hid it.” his smile broaden.

Serena shook her head, “Okay, fine. I’m getting out of here.” she took a few steps back, getting ready to barge out of her iron prison.

This time, Isidro shook his head, “Sorry, sis.” his grin turned wicked, “There’s only room for one.”

Serena paled, “What–”

“GUARDS!” he yelled and pressed the red button.

“ISIDRO!” Takeshi and Serena both roared at the same time.

Fully armed soldiers barged into the cells, crossbows lifted and swords drawn, but Isidro was long gone.

“Freezing metal?” the lead soldier clenched his jaw, “Curse that architect and his young friends. I knew metal wouldn’t work!” he turned to the others, “Lock them up in the stone dungeons.”

Takeshi and Serena were both too stunned to say anything as the warriors shattered the ice and came in. Four were left behind to point their crossbows at them, in case they tried to escape.

Five minutes later, both relatives found each other in the same stone dungeon with only two small openings that were too small for anyone to climb in or out.

Once Serena overcame her shock, the first thought that came to her was: My brother betrayed us. Her eyes watered at the thought. Her brother had always been there for her. When she fell down from her first Hover board, he pulled her back up and comforted her. When she lost her favorite toy, he would get her a better one. When she was young and loved Ice Cream, he would disobey their mother and father to get her some. But why? Why did he do this? Did spending five years in the Asylum turn him mad? Or was it something she said to him in the midst of her anger that he could never forgive?

“Takeshi?” Serena murmured.

He didn’t answer, but she understood. He feels the same hurt that she does.

“Takeshi, I’m sorry for my brother.” My brother. Serena thought in bitter anger. That wretched traitor. What had gotten into him? She wanted to cry, but tears refused to come out.

“It’s not your fault.” he muttered before turning around and lying down on the cold bare ground.

Samael

Samael recognised the smell of sulfur, blood, and rot. He was between the worlds of the living and the dead. I’m a servant of Hell. He thought. Why would I be in a coma?

“You’re here because your existence on the world of the living is fading. Unless if you’re freed from the grasp of Hell, I’m afraid it’s your one way ticket back to the Abyss.” one of his colleagues, Eligos, appeared in front of him.

“Eligos!” Samael exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”

“The same reason why you’re here, Samael.” Eligos folded his arms, “I was sent a few centuries after you didn’t come back. But a decades ago, the Lord of the Abyss learned that you were still on the surface of the world, so he banished me into this stinking, rotting place.”

“So what do you plan to do?” Samael touched his skin, “And why am I not bleeding?”

“Your friend, that daughter of the necromancer, healed your wounds and almost struck a bargain with one of the others, if it weren’t for your other friend, Rhyland, you’d be long gone from the living world, Samael.”

“What did Rhyland do?”

“I do not know exactly, but whatever he did, it must’ve been powerful. Because no more servants came to your body anymore.”

Samael looked around, but all he could see is red and black. “But Rhyland was near death the last time I saw him.” he winced when the memory of his companion being scourged struck him.

“Yes, but you underestimate Rhyland’s will.” Eligos said quietly, “He’s more of a friend to you than you realize.”

Despite Samael’s constant teasing and joking, deep down, he had always thought that Rhyland despised him. His companion was always serious, and he never smiled towards him (not that he had ever smiled before). But the events that happened today, Samael started to have seconds thoughts on Rhyland’s dark and cold attitude.

“What happened after I went unconscious?” Samael asked.

“Your body remains in the world of the living, but part of you is here. You are to stay here until your mortal body is strong enough to host you.” he snorted, “Mortal bodies are as fragile and weak as snowflakes.”

Samael didn’t say anything, the only thought that crossed his mind was: I need to get back up there. 

“I know you do.” Eligos smiled bitterly, “But until they heal your mortal body, you’re stuck down here with me.”

Samael stood there for what might’ve been days or weeks. Or it could’ve been a few hours, all Samael knew was that his body could be either dying or strengthening. Whether Rhyland was summoned back to Hell, Samael didn’t know either.

But after a while of standing there, Samael felt the air cooling, and the smell of blood and rot fading. The red and black tints turned dark green and blue.

“You’re going back Samael.” Eligos smiled again, this time, it might’ve actually been genuine, “Good luck.”

Samael blinked and found him staring up at a dark blue sky full of stars. A gold light flickered besides him, and heat touched his skin. Fire. He thought when he heard the familiar crackling of bark and wood.

The soft chirp of crickets gave him a strange sense of comfort, and the cool and fresh air calmed his nerves. For once, he actually appreciated the mortal world.

Samael got up and hissed in pain as his sore muscles tensed. He forced himself to sit upright and found himself half naked. His chest was covered with scars, and, if he looked closely, he could see that his flesh was tinted with a sickly gray color. He touched his back and found countless scars there as well.

“Samael?” Rhyland’s voice made Samael whip around.

“Rhyland.” he whispered.

Rhyland’s figure rose from the shadows and revealed itself from the darkness. The once silver flashing light in Rhyland’s night blue eyes was gone. And his bones were more than visible. His pale blonde hair looked sickly gray. Samael had seen Rhyland drained before, but it was nothing compared to this.

In just a few steps, Rhyland crossed over to Samael and knelt down in front of him. His eyes went to his bare back, where the scars still lingered. His eyes clouded with anger, “The fiend would pay for this.”

“Forget it, Rhyland.” Samael muttered, “You know he’s more powerful than us.”

“He swore that you would finish this.” Rhyland ignored him, “And you would show him who’s in charge of your fate.”

Samael sighed, “Enough, Rhyland. The Lord of Hell is more powerful than us. We can’t kill him.”

“So that’s it?” Rhyland slumped back, “You’re just going to give up?”

Samael looked into the woods, “We’re going after spirit.” he declared, “Then the Lord of Hell cannot harm us.”

“Was that what Alastor told you?” Rhyland asked.

Samael looked up with a surprised expression, “How did you know?”

“When the Devil King told you to reveal what you learned, you said Alastor’s name.” Rhyland said.

Samael looked back down at his feet, “Oh, right…” he mumbled, then he looked back up, “Where’s Kyrstrai?”

“Sleeping over there.” he pointed under a tree, “Healing you took a lot of energy from her.” he hesitated, then he continued, “What exactly did Alastor tell you, Samael?”

Samael pointed north east, “According to Alastor, he has located the spirit, and it’s currently travelling south, to our position.”

“But our mission was the bring back the body, nothing else!” Rhyland protested.

“We’ll do that later. First, we’ll send secure the spirit, because securing the spirit is harder than securing the body. At least the body wouldn’t run away on its own.” Samael imagined a dead corpse walking around and almost laughed.

“You’re going to defy the Master Necromancer?”

“Do we have a choice?”

“Yes!” Rhyland stood up, “We can do what he asks, and go back without any more trouble.”

“The Devil King has made a bargain.” Samael said quietly and stood as well, “If we get the spirit and the body back, we’ll go free.”

“Free?” Rhyland gasped, “But… servants of Hell cannot go free!”

“Well, they can now!” Samael got up, ignoring the pain in his legs and back, “And I am not going back to that Hellish nightmare. Are you with me or not?”

Rhyland didn’t answer immediately. And just when Samael was about to loose hope, he sighed, “Do I have a choice?” he muttered.

Samael couldn’t resist a grin, “Thanks.” he clapped Rhyland’s shoulder before sitting back down.

Rhyland knelt besides him, “Samael.” he said, his voice hoarse and full of guilt, “I’m really sorry.”

Samael frowned, “About what?”

“About trying to send you back to the Hells, I mean.” Rhyland didn’t meet his eyes, “I apologize.”

“Apologize accepted, Rhyland.” Samael nodded, “Don’t worry about it anymore.”

 

They set out the next day. Samael told them that he’d teleport them north and track the spirit there.

He felt a suddenly chill when they passed the Silverwind Peaks, and a dry and hot wind as they passed the Barren Desert. But when they stopped, the air was damp, and misty clung to the trees and earth.

“You mind to tell us where we are?” Rhyland asked.

Samael looked over his shoulder, “We’re beyond the Dead Land. I think we’re close to the Misty Glades.”

“The what Glades?” Rhyland frowned.

Kyrstrai elbowed him, “The Misty Glades, Rhyland. Everyone knows about them, because that’s where the most skilled healers on the face of Haeloria dwell.”

“It certainly doesn’t look like where Healers would dwell.” Rhyland commented.

They continued to discuss healers while Samael touched the trees. He felt the rough, unlively spirit’s trail. But it wasn’t fresh at all. It was smoother than it should be. We missed them. He said to himself. Samael traced the ground and found a rough path. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated. This was made about a week ago. He thought. He turned just in time to hear Rhyland say, “But who would want to live in a forest like this?”

“We missed them!” Samael announced, “We’re going after them.”

Kyrstrai and Rhyland stopped their conversation and turned, “What?”

Kyrstrai stepped forward, “What do you mean, we missed them?” she demanded.

Samael pointed down the river towards the Dead Land, “They’re going down the river. And we’re following them.” without any further warning, he teleported them, following the trail that the spirit left.

Rhyland looked around. The Dark Mist and gray sky shadowed the earth and trees. On their left was the Bloodran River. Its red and gray murky waters lapped the shore quietly, and the smell of stale and dried blood clogged up Samael’s nose, making him gag.

“I’ve almost forgotten what it was like here.” Rhyland muttered, “I guess we’ve spent too much time breathing fresh air.”

Kyrstrai looked around, “Do you see footprints.”

Samael snorted, “If it were that easy, the spirit would’ve been captured a long time ago.” he said.

Rhyland shushed them all of the sudden. “He’s close.” he murmured and stalked off like a predator.

Samael and Kyrstrai followed him. Rhyland was better at finding trails hidden in complicated places, Samael knew. His companion tended to overcomplicate things.

After a few minutes of silent walking, Samael was about to speak up when he held up his hand, “There he is.” he murmured and pointed.

There, behind a shadowed tree, was the spirit of Muerdox Firebringer.

Yhria

Yhria yelped when Muerdox suddenly drew his sword and bared his teeth, his eyes burned with hostility that scared the Hell out of Yhria.

Out of nowhere, two men leapt out of the shadows and pinned Muerdox onto the cold earth, growling and snarling.

Yhria stumbled back and gripped Lyriel protectively when another figure pressed her blade against Yhria’s throat. Fear threatened to overwhelm them, but Yhria stopped herself from crying and took deep, ragged breaths.

“Get off me, you cur.” Muerdox barked.

“I got him.”

“No, you let go!”

“I said I got him! Send him back, now!”

A figure rose and pointed at Yhria, “Kyrstrai, kill him!”

“No, WAIT!” Yhria screamed.

The person in front of her hesitated, “What?” she said.

“A mortal girl?” one of the men that was pinning Muerdox said.

The person who was pointing at Yhria waved his hand, and the forest around them illuminated with gold light. The person who lit the forest had blank eyes and a muscular built. His skin was white with gray tints to it. And his hair didn’t seem solid, like it didn’t belong to a living being.

The man pinning Muerdox wasn’t as well built, but he might’ve been taller. His hair was a bit murky gray and silver. And his eyes were blue. They would’ve been beautiful, but the broken look in his gaze ruined the image. Yhria could see through his skin and see bones and veins.

“Please don’t hurt him.” Yhria blurted out.

The man with blue eyes looked down at Muerdox, “You’ve been travelling with this cheater?”

“Cheater?” Yhria frowned.

“So I see.” the man with blank eyes mused, “Our young friend, Muerdox, didn’t bother to tell anyone of his history.”

Muerdox clenched his jaw, “Shut up, fiend.”

“Rhyland, secure him.” The well built man’s voice was authoritative, as if he was used to commanding people.

Yhria watched as Muerdox’s form started to fade and become nothing but a blood red mist that clung to the earth. The grass around the mist withered into yellow and died. The sand and dirt seeped into a hole, as if the earth was hollow beneath it. But then, the man who was pinning Muerdox frowned, “What the…”

The red mist started to disappear, and Yhria didn’t think it was a good thing. Soon, there was nothing but an empty hole with dead grass surrounding the edges.

“How did he…” The woman gasped.

“His body!” The man with blank white eyes spat, “His spirit returned to his body.”

“Can he do that?” the woman still had her knife halfway to Yhria’s throat.

“Yes.” the man kneeling growled, “As long as he is free of death’s grasp, he could return to his body and roam free as a mortal.”

“But you were securing his spirit, why did he–”

“I wasn’t fast enough.” he muttered, “This was my fault.”

“Uh, excuse me?” Yhria tried to speak.

“Just great, Rhyland!” the woman lowered his knife and pointed it at him, “Now the most dangerous man ever to live is free!”

“Pardon me?” Yhria said.

“Kyrstrai, I need to send you back to the Necropolis.” the man with blank eyes ordered.

Necropolis? What is the Necropolis?

“Tell your father to contact the Devil King.” the man continued, ignoring Yhria, “You must tell him to tell my master that we need the Elites.”

“The what?” the woman named Kyrstrai asked, clearly confused.

“You heard me!” the man snapped, “The Elites, got that?”

“What are the–” Kyrstrai started to ask.

“They’re dangerous but powerful, like me, okay?” the man cut her off.

“But what if he doesn’t know which ones–”

“He will, and if he asks why, tell him the truth.”

“But won’t he get angry?” Kyrstrai asked.

“Angry, oh sure, he’ll get angry. But not without fear.” his hands started to flicker with purple electric lights, “Do you understand?”

“Get my father to contact the Devil king and tell him we need the Elites. If he asks why, tell him the truth.” Kyrstrai nodded.

The man flicked his wrist and purple bolts shot out of his hands. They coiled around the woman and she started to fade.

The man didn’t wait until she was gone. He turned and told the person named Rhyland, “We’re heading for the Unknown Land.”

“I thought that was already our objective?” Rhyland raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, but we’re teleporting this time.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“I know, but do we have a choice here?”

“Why in such a hurry, though?” Rhyland frowned, “The Unknown Land is dangerous. Even Muerdox knows that. He’ll take precautions, and that would slow him down.”

Yhria tried to say something, but the other man beat her to it. “Alastor told me something.” he said.

Rhyland looked up, “What?”

Alastor?

“The Unknown Race had discovered how to Time Travel.” The man said, “If Muerdox get his hands on whatever lets them Time Travel, we’ll be in worst trouble than you can imagine.”

His companion didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then, “Why didn’t you say so?” Rhyland’s voice was barely more than a rasp, “We could’ve explained everything to the Devil King! We could’ve been out of this mess ages ago!” His voice was now barely below a roar, “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I don’t want this place to become a playground for Muerdox, okay? He could bring forth the Legions of the Unknown Race if he really tried! You know how charismatic he is!” he hissed, “And you know what would happen if this place really became Muerdox’s playground? He would make every enemy pay their debts in blood, and children would be forced to endure torturing!”

“Why do you care?” Rhyland spat, “We’re servants of Hell, and this is just a continent in a vast realm. What is a few million lives to you?”

Servants of Hell? Yhria gasped. She didn’t know much of the outside world, but she knew that servants of the Devil King weren’t to be taken lightly. It was best if you avoided them at all costs. 

“Those million lives changed Haeloria into something that was almost impossible to shape! A peaceful haven! Yes, there are enemies, but when was the last time you were called forth into a war? And I don’t mean mortal wars, I mean the wars between the gods and the immortals! When a simple thought could destroy hundreds of miles of villages, beauty, and life! Never, Rhyland! You were never called forth to the battlefield between Heaven and Hell!”

Rhyland didn’t back down, “So you decided to be a hero?” Rhyland sneered, “Fine, Samael. Have it your way. But remember this, when you’re putting your life in danger for a few petty mortal lives, I would be living free of the Devil King’s grasp.”

The man named Samael shoved Rhyland away and stormed off.

Yhria decided it was best if she didn’t follow them, and that they didn’t notice her and Lyriel at all. But then, when she looked down at Lyriel to check on her, the infant’s eyes were wide open, and the fiery amber eyes were burning. She almost screamed in shock. Not now! Please, not now! When the evil spirits are so close!

But it was too late, both Samael and Rhyland have turned around, and within a millisecond, both men were in front of her.

“Please, my lords.” Yhria babbled, “I’m begging you do, don’t hurt her. She was cursed, and it was my fault. We’re merely trying to seek out a healer who could remove this curse.”

Samael blinked and looked into her eyes, “Who told you that a healer could remove a curse such as this?” he said quietly.

“A friend of a basilisk rider. He said that the healers of the north could possibly remove the curse from this girl.” Yhria could feel tears watering her eyes.

Rhyland and Samael both glanced at each other. Samael then said, “No one could remove such a curse, little girl.” he murmured, “What he told you was a lie.”

Yhria felt the last of her hope disappear. She cried for what seemed like hours. Lyriel couldn’t be saved. The thought echoed through the walls of her mind. Lyriel would be forever cursed. Until the moment she dies, she would have to endure the pain. 

“Samael, we must take our leave.” Rhyland said.

“Wait, Rhyland.” Samael held up a hand and knelt down in front of Yhria, “Where do you hail from, mortal girl?”

“Why does it matter?” Yhria muttered in a nasal voice, “Unless if answering the question would save Lyriel, I doubt that information is important.”

“It matters because I need to send you back.” Samael reasoned in a calm tone.

“NO!” Yhria almost screamed.

Samael and Rhyland both recoiled slightly. Yhria’s pounding heart slowed, but it took her a while to find the right words. “You cannot take me back there.”

“Why not?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“If you keep asking that question, I’ll send you back no matter how much you’ll hate me.” Samael said.

“First, tell me everything that you had planned to do with Muerdox.” Yhria said, her voice hard.

“Why?”

“He gave me a good reason to trust him, so now I need a good reason from you why I shouldn’t.”

“If I told you, would you believe me?” Samael raised an eyebrow.

Yhria was tempted to say yes, because it was the answer they would want to hear, but she feared their powers. If they could teleport, surely they can read minds.

“Yes, we can read minds.” that proved it, “So there’s no point in lying.”

Suddenly, a scream echoed through the woods. They all turned. “What was that?” Rhyland asked, frowning.

“The sound of torture.” Samael answered, dashing off.

Yhria was still half dazed and half miserable, but she followed anyways.

Vessago

“Saleos, what are you–” but it was too late, Saleos had already taken off. He knew his brother had heard something, but what? He followed immediately.

“What’s going on?” King Solar called from below.

Vessago stopped when he heard him. He had almost forgotten about the king. But Saleos was already gone. So Vessago swooped down and picked reached out to grab Solar’s hand. “Hold onto me.” he ordered and held out the other hand for Asheen. He extended his huge wings and hovered off of the ground. Solar wasn’t heavy, and so wasn’t Asheen, but the weight still slowed him down.

“SALEOS!” Vessago roared, but his brother didn’t come back, so he had no choice but to follow him. He couldn’t leave Solar here, because the climate was too cold, and even with a fur coat and extra cloak on, the Everblaze king and his guard wouldn’t survive long in this weather.

Vessago dragged the two and tried to follow his brother. A few minutes later, he found him barging into the wooden door of some dark building.

“Wait, SALEOS, what are you doing!” Vessago yelled.

“What, what is it?” Solar asked.

“He crossed the border of the Dead Land. That trench, Dead Man’s Trench, is the mark.” Vessago wished his brother wasn’t impulsive and stupid like that. The Necromancers were neutral, but they didn’t like people trampling all over their land. The Lord of Wintertide dropped Solar and Asheen down at the base of the building. It was dark, but Vessago went in anyway.

“Lord Vessago!” Solar went after him.

He stepped carefully, for there was something about this building that made his skin tingle. Then, above them, was a scream, a huge thud and crash followed it. Vessago ran with his feet barely touching the ground towards a staircase that he just spotted and half-flew up the steps.

There were various machines of all sorts, but none of them looked safe. There were chains, blades, saws, knives, and cages. On a table was some very unusual equipment that looked like nothing Vessago had ever seen.

Saleos was standing there with his axe dripping with blood. On the floor were scattered and frozen body parts trapped in ice. There were a few severed heads and limbs that were ripped out, otherwise, the rest were in ice.

Vessago noticed that in two cages, there were two young people. One was a young woman, the other a young man. Both shared the same black hair, but the girl had blue eyes, while the man had no pupils at all. They looked like they’ve been through tunnels and a lot of fights.

“What… happened… Serena…” the man gasped for air.

The woman was barely breathing.

“Serena?” the man repeated, feeling the metal bars. “Serena, are you there?”

Saleos ran over to the woman and felt her chest, “She’s near death, Vessago.” Saleos said.

“Who’s there?” the man suddenly grew hostile.

“It’s alright, we’re not here to harm you.” Vessago walked over and placed a hand on the man’s arm. He yanked it away.

“Stay away from us, you cur.” he snarled, but after a moment, his body went limp.

Vessago felt his wrist, “His pulse is weak, Saleos.”

Something in the air that changed made Vessago turn. There stood the two people he would rather die than face.

“You again?” Saleos’s voice quivered with the slightest fear and anger.

Samael frowned at the woman and man, “They’re dying.”

“Yes, we know that!” Vessago snapped.

A girl a bit older than Laurai stumbled up the steps. She panted, “Don’t you dare leave me off like that again.” in her arms was an infant. Her eyes were wide open and terrified. Then she noticed the people who lay near death. The girl gasped, “What happened?”

“They were tortured.” Saleos figured, “But not physically.”

The girl ran over and touched their neck. She paused, then said, “They’ve seen horrors and nightmares. I have to let them wake up on their own. Once that happens, I’ll need to do some therapy on them.”

“How did you…” Vessago asked, clearly confused.

The girl didn’t answer, instead, she stood up and handed Vessago the infant, “Can you hold her for me, please?” she asked.

“Oh… um, of course.” Vessago took the girl and held her. She had beautiful amber eyes that reminded him of the sugar they’d put in the snow as children and freeze them into candy. He smiled at the thought.

Meanwhile, the girl was looking for something.

“What’s your name?” Vessago called.

“Yhria.” she replied, “I hail from the Mystic Valley.” she came back and took the infant, “Carry them outside.”