Nalos wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened the door. For all the cloak and dagger from Voja, the mission brief named an official Court hall as the meeting place. A large group of mercenaries greeted him. Some turned in his direction as the door closed, but most continued to converse among small groups they’d formed.

It was an odd sight. Most of the members gathered were Guild members dressed in roughly-hewn armor– a stark contrast to the pristine white and gold of the Court hall. “Nalos!” A voice called out as he stepped through the doorway. A man, dressed in the same gaudy Court colors waved to him from the side. The gathered mercenaries parted to let Nalos through. Some looked towards him with suspicion, and others with hostility, but all remained silent as he passed them.

It took him two more steps to recognize Shaw. While flamboyant, his Court garb was clearly meant for battle. The shimmering embroidery took the shape of protective runes in other places, and with the exception of his cloak, everything fit just tight enough to not be restrictive.

What stood out the most, though, were his scars. They covered his body, from his grinning face to the hand he offered Nalos. The ones on his face were long, and nearly perfectly straight, while his hand was more scar than flesh. It did nothing to alleviate his crushing grip. Nalos returned the grin and pulled the other man into a brief hug. “Did Voja put this up to you, too?” He asked, surreptitiously eyeing the gathered mercenaries. Shaw’s grin widened. “Are you kidding me? That golden-eyed bastard showed me the mission brief. He’d have to kill me to keep me away.”

“You damn battle junkie.”

“Can’t deny that.”

Shaw’s expression turned grim. “Seriously, though. I’m glad you’re here.” He flicked his wrist as he spoke, and the ambient noise that filled the hall vanished. “I’m not sure what shape we’ll be in by the time we arrive, and have no clue what to expect.” Nalos nodded. “You saw how far out we’re going?”

“Yup. You’ve got your little doohickey?” Shaw pulled a thick leather cord from under his shirt. A small blue vial, no thicker than his finger, hung from the braided cable. “We’re going to need them this time.”

Nalos pulled his own necklace up in response. Shaw’s grin returned. “Good.” The scarred man turned back towards the crowd. “Will you address them, or should I?” Nalos followed his gaze. “I think it’s better you do it.” Shaw batted his eyelashes. “It’s because of my pretty face, isn’t it?” He flicked his wrist once more, and the sound of layered conversation washed over them again. “Ah-HEM.” Nalos flinched as the sound of Shaw’s throat clearing boomed out at an impossible volume. All of the mercenaries jumped. Some had their weapons half-drawn. Shaw smiled innocently. “Now that I have your attention, please listen carefully. If you’re here, that means you were given the same mission brief that I was. I’m assuming you all read it?”

The question was met with silence. “Good. Then you already know that many of you will not be returning.” At that, a mixture of consternation and shock spread through the crowd. Shaw silenced them with a raised hand. “I’m not going to baby you. I’m not going to mince my words. If you read that and still showed up, you’re stupid, have a death wish, or… you need the money.” He paused for a moment. “The Warden who issued this mission has personally assured me that payment will be credited to your families in the event that you fail to return.”

Whispers spread through the crowd again, and this time, Shaw did nothing to stop it. “With that said,” he continued after they subsided, “does anyone wish to leave now? There’s no shame in it, and you will face no repercussions.” His question was met with silence yet again. There was an air of tension, now, but no one stepped forward– or out. Shaw nodded. “Then it’s decided. Be certain to not leave behind any regrets. We leave in three hours.” He waved a hand to dismiss the mercenaries and turned to Nalos as they streamed out. “How many do you think will be left by the time we arrive?” He asked darkly. Nalos shrugged. “Hard to tell. Half at best. Once we reach the fifth zone…” he trailed off, and Shaw finished his thought. “We won’t be able to protect them. I know.” The scarred man sighed. “Do you have the faintest idea why Voja asked for this?” Nalos shook his head.

“I have no clue.”

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

“You’re a true believer at heart, aren’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know damn well what it means.”

Nalos fell silent. “See?” Shaw snorted, then shook his head. “I hope he’s worth it.” He stepped away. “You should make sure your own affairs are in order,” Shaw said over his shoulder. "Not even the two of us will be safe out there.”

image [https://i.imgur.com/T7fdvjj.png]

Linua watched the doctor– Varus, he’d introduced himself as– inspect her daughter. He was the fifth they had seen that day alone, and though he was younger than the others, he was the only one who seemed to know anything about their kind. His outfit differed from theirs, too; his white coat was inlaid with emerald green stripes.

“You said you came from the twelfth zone?” Varus asked. She nodded in confirmation.

“How long did it take you to reach the city?”

“Nearly a month.”

Surprise flickered over his expression as he turned back to Gwyn. He rummaged around in his bag for a moment, pulling out a small blue vial attached to a leather cord. He handed it to Gwyn. “Wear this.” She did as instructed. The doctor crossed his arms. “You’re lucky to be alive. Most would have died before reaching the fifth zone.” He gestured to the necklace. “You’ll need to wear that at all times when you return. I’ll have the necessary paperwork in place for you to keep it during our next check-up."

Linua bit her lip as she looked at Gwyn. Her daughter had the same off-white hair as her brother, and the same fiery defiance in her dark blue eyes. “Then it really is…?”

“She suffered a rupture, yes.” Confirmed Varus. Linua bit down harder. “But she’s a hollow. That’s…” impossible, she wanted to say, but trailed off as the doctor shook his head. “It’s rare, but there have been instances.” He hesitated. “She will be able to live in Umbra as long as she wears a Well, but given your circumstances, I’m not sure that’s wise.” He gathered his belongings. “You should consider your options carefully.”

The door closed behind him with a dull click. Linua gave her daughter a quick hug. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Varus turned to face her as she stepped outside of the room. “Yes?” Linua wrung her hands behind her back before speaking. “If we were to permanently relocate to one of the cities, what would the process look like?” The doctor’s expression turned thoughtful. “It depends. Most inner cities have an immigration queue, but the newer ones accept nearly everyone. Although,” he added, “your status as outsiders will almost certainly cause significant delays.” Linua’s heart sank.

“... If you’d like, I could sponsor your family.” Linua looked up at that, her trepidation replaced by suspicion. “Why would you do that?” She asked. “I would like to continue observing your daughter.” Varus held his hands up placatingly as Linua narrowed her eyes. “Given her sensitivity, she will need regular check-ups regardless.”

Despite herself, Linua hesitated. “Why?” She asked. “You said this has occurred before. That means there’s records. So why my daughter?”

“The few records that exist are vague. Inconclusive.”

“So?”

“Despite their lack of clarity, there are some common threads.”

“Such as?”

“Each indicates the subject manifested some level of power.”

Linua’s blood ran cold. “So, what? She’s a… mage?” Varus hesitated before answering. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “As I said, the records I uncovered leave much unclear. I would like to observe how it affects your daughter. No harm will come to her,” he added quickly, seeing Linua’s expression. “And I will require her explicit consent as well. Any scientific curiosity I have is second to my duty of care. Her wellbeing is my priority.”

image [https://i.imgur.com/T7fdvjj.png]

Auvun tore the sky apart with his every breath. He ripped essence from matter, greedily drawing it into his own body. Already, he could feel his body growing in strength– and with it, the poison that ate away at his very being. He could feel it feeding, siphoning away at the ethereal river that flowed into his body. It suffocated the flames that burned to life in his Heart, choking them into nothingness before greedily reaching for more. As Auvun flew, he considered his options. He wanted nothing more than to return home, to see Ignisaria once more, but knew it was impossible. Even if he did return safely, it would do nothing more than prolong his life– and sign his people’s death warrants. For the first time in his long, long, life, Auvun was left with a single option.

Flee.