Rumination leads to ruination.

Meditation leads to mediation.

— Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor

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Shurra placed a palm against the door.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then she gathered her breath and the door exploded inwards, splinters flying through the air as the door crashed into the stairs leading up the floors. Lyka leapt through the newly opened entrance, her spear's naked blade twirling about as they breached the well-lit entrance. Dangerous, thought Molam. The spirit had told him no one lay behind the doors, but Lyka didn't know that. Perhaps she was very confident?

"At least the City Lord keeps a warm house," Lyka stalked about, her spear held at the ready. "No one's here."

Molam had never been inside a City Lord's Mansion but he had been inside the tent of Mursa Khan, where wealth was power and power was to be displayed. The entranceway into the City Lord's Mansion was decorated with little gravitas for ostentatiousness. Perhaps trophies and items of value had been removed by the servants that were now gone, but he saw no indication that items were missing from the entranceway. The only indication of wealth that he could see was the material used to build the stairs, the walls, and even the carpet that they walked upon. And of course, the heavy doors that lay splintered from their trespassing.

He stepped up behind Primrose, who had shielded her face from the splinters with an arm. Shurra shook some splintered wood off herself and joined them in entering the Mansion.

Aside from the silent flames that burned in the alcoves, the entrance area was devoid of guards. Molam resisted the urge to shiver as he surveyed the silent entrance. Not even a servant. Where were the people? Were they all up on the roof tending to the signal fire?

He notched an arrow. "Lyka, Shurra." The two women looked at him. "Primrose and I will stay here. Both of you take each end of the Mansion and search. Shout if you encounter anything, but if not, come back and we'll go up to the second floor."

Shurra nodded and Lyka sighed, but they each pointed to opposite sides and ran swiftly through the halls. Primrose hung her — no, his — cloak on the stairs and came back to stand near him. Her presence seemed to shrink next to him as he glanced at her; he wondered when she had begun holding daggers in each hand, one in a reverse grip.

Instead of the Lord position, you should have assigned her Assassin.

Molam ignored the spirit, wondering if it merely didn't understand his reasoning for keeping Primrose close to him and keeping the other two apart.

Footsteps. Molam looked to the side to see Shurra walking back, her head shaking at his inquisitive look. He looked to the other side and saw Lyka returning as well.

"Nothing?" He confirmed with her, and she nodded.

"Completely empty."

Primrose stepped onto the stairs. "Up we go?"

"Stay in formation. We all know where the City Lord's room is."

The four of them fell back into their earlier formation and Shurra led the way up the stairs. The second floor led up to an inner balcony that ran along the inside of the building, with the first room facing them being the office of the City Lord.

Shurra bounded to the top in a leap and opened the door with her sword drawn, then glanced around and shook her head. Molam flickered his eyes towards the third room to the left, then at Lyka. "Lyka, join Shurra and go to that room."

Lyka paused. "Shouldn't we be staying out of Shurra's duel?"

"Only if it's a duel. We haven't figured out if Agytha is alone here yet."

The woman ran to join Shurra at the top of the stairs, the butt of her spear clattering needlessly against the railing. Primrose and Molam followed in silence, Molam's apprehension rising as they ascended the stairs. In his mind, the steps he had taken to get here had been illuminated by information and knowledge. Yet so much beyond this point lay in darkness. Why had Agytha run JiangXi the way she did? Where was she? Why had the talisman holder not made a move yet? Was the spirit wrong, or was he simply held back by his own paranoia? The anxiety made his heartbeat thunder in his ears and his neck pulse as he walked up behind Primrose, and he tried to chase the sensation away by reasoning with himself: they had come too far for him to second-guess his decisions.

Following behind Lyka and Shurra, they grouped outside of the room's door. Lyka and Shurra exchanged a look, then looked to Primrose, who nodded and looked at Molam.

Someone is in there, the spirit confirmed for Molam. Or, it paused. Something? It is a faint presence.

Molam gave Shurra a nod and she placed a palm against the door, her sword drawn and ready. The next moment, she seemed to gather her strength and the door exploded inwards once again, blowing straight off its hinges.

And then the torrent of water gushed out of the doorway, carrying the splintered door with it as the deluge slammed into Shurra, pushing her back against and flipping her over the railing. With a savage roar, Shurra reached and grasped the railing with a hand, clinging on and refusing to be pushed away even as Primrose and Molam retreated swiftly from the surge of water. Molam saw Lyka also back away from the flooding barrage across the other side of the water. The water itself surged through the openings of the railings, rushing down to the first floor but pooling near the entrance to the City Lord's room. Within seconds, the outpour stopped, leaving a sputtering and drenched Shurra clambering over the railings to get back onto the balcony.

They had no time to react as the figure leapt out through the doorway, crashing into Shurra and breaking the railing. The force of the strike sent the two falling down to the first floor. The water had given away her identity and Molam caught a glimpse of the City Lord Agytha then, or what he could see given the water that surrounded her figure.

"Shurra!" Primrose rushed towards the railing to look down at the two.

Molam made to follow, but the spirit's voice rang in his head with urgency.

The Spear!

Lyka's speartip came into his vision before he could finish reacting, his arm raising to block the strike with his armguard. The spear glanced off with a loud clang, the blow knocking him back several paces and causing his entire arm to go numb as he fumbled with his bow to notch an arrow. Lyka had not lied about being a master of physical reinforcement. Based on the prickling sensation in his arm, a frontal-block would have cost him the arm.

"Primrose!" he warned as Lyka advanced swiftly, trying to slip past Primrose during her distraction. Primrose turned, a flash of glittering blades swiping at the air; Lyka had already advanced past her, running at Molam as he forced his numb arm straight and pulled an arrow.

He loosed the arrow at her head just as Lyka sprinted forward, timing it with her next step, but Lyka dropped to her knee and slid across the water pooling on the carpet, sliding right under the projectile. With fluid grace, the woman used the butt of her spear to push herself back up to her feet and bore down on Molam with the speartip.

"Stop."

Primrose's voice sang out, and Lyka's entire body hesitated, giving Molam time to scramble backwards for distance between himself and Lyka. But the moment passed as Lyka shrugged it off with a shake of her head, gripping her spear with both hands into a full charge.

Molam abandoned his bow and reached for his sword with his non-numb hand, his ears picking up sounds of the clash on the floor below them as the entire building trembled. Lyka gave him no time to draw the blade from its sheath — he pulled the entire thing to his front and blocked Lyka's spear thrust with the flat of the scabbard, the full weight of her body behind the attack.

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The building flipped — no, the blow sent him flying backwards from the sheer force of Lyka's spear. In the brief moment of disorientation he vaguely registered Primrose's musical commands, sung with an uncharacteristic sense of urgency before his back exploded with pain as he crashed into the wall.

Molam collapsed onto his knees, trying to summon the will to assume a defensive stance through the haze of pain demanding his body lie down and let the darkness claim him. His vision blurred and threatened to fade; he bit down hard on his lip until he drew blood, trying to stave off the numbing desire to keel over. The pain seared an angry hot red throughout his back and for a moment the memories of that bonfire surged. He fought the urge to check his back with his hands, the threat of Lyka's follow-up strike keen on his mind.

Gritting his teeth at the pain, he looked up with his flickering vision just in time to roll to the side at Lyka's next sluggish stab. Primrose materialized behind Lyka, who carried her thrust forward to avoid the daggers that swiped where her neck had been, bounding forward to bounce off the wall and leap over Primrose, the speartip flashing for Primrose's head. Primrose's arm flicked upwards with a glimmer and Lyka's stance responded immediately, parrying the flying dagger that had aimed for her neck before completing her somersault through the air and landing on her feet.

"Molam, stand up." Primrose had planted herself in front of him, pulling another dagger from within the folds of her clothes and taking a defensive stance. Through the pain, he found himself ironically wishing Primrose's Charm would work on him whilst his body refused to obey anything but the pain.

"A moment." Or at least, that's what he thought he grunted through clenched teeth, putting a hand on his armguard and twisting it in a silent plea. A new wave of excruciating pain almost made him lose consciousness and collapse upon his elbows. It took all of his willpower to keep himself propped up.

The feather wrapped around his wrist flared and he felt the stinging sensation on his back itch. Be less reliant on my healing.

Molam tried to come up with words but the painful itching resulted in just another gasp of air. All he could do was try to not move as he begged with his body to ignore the pain that gnawed away at his thoughts. Through the haze, his ears picked up the dull words spoken between Primrose and Lyka.

"What are you doing, Lyka?" Primrose's voice brimmed with fury. "Why did you attack Molam?"

"We don't have to do this, Prim. You and I can turn this around, you can come with me to Oasis and I will speak to the Lord of Sands for you. This can still be salvaged. "

"Salvaged?" Primrose repeated coldly. "Lyka, why did you betray us?"

"Betrayal implies I was with the group the entire time." Lyka's face contorted visibly as her jaw clenched. "Please don't. Even if the effects are muted, all I hear when you use your Charm is my father's voice. You know that."

"You helped me gather the members of the Dao. When Molam said there might be a traitor, I didn't want it to be you. We've been together for so long - we shared a dream of a better tomorrow!" Primrose's voice cracked. "Why?"

Molam pushed himself onto his knees to see Lyka shaking her head. "The Dao. Gods, I hate that name. 'The Way'? But this isn't the way, Prim, the Oracle has you fooled. She has the world fooled. The Lord of Sands suffered with the Frozen Saint because of the Oracle, and now you want the people to suffer again?" Lyka pointed her spear at Molam. "He's going to be the Oracle's tool to interfere with the world and the Bloody Prince will answer with violence, you know that! We can't allow that to happen again. He's the only one that needs to die, and the Lord of Sands can See for himself that you aren't wearing the color of the Oracle's approval. I'll vouch for you and we can be honest in front of the Lord." Lyka edged forward, a sliding half-step. "Stand aside, Prim."

"You've lost your mind, Lyka." A hint of desperation replaced the previous tone of pleading in Primrose's voice. "Stand up, Molam."

Molam placed a hand on a knee and pushed himself to his feet. The pain in his back throbbed still, but he could not afford to look weak right now. He glanced at Lyka as the itching in his back faded, the memory of each of the group's leaders and their interactions in his head. Shurra's neutral manner, Kalle's positivity, and Lyka's abundance of caution. "I wondered how things hadn't gotten out of hand after three years of Agytha's tyranny. You were working with Agytha to keep the organization in check, weren't you?"

"Very good." Lyka's face hardened. "I regret not killing you when Kalle first brought you in. It would have been significantly less of a hassle than the problem you are now."

"Don't blame yourself. I've been careful about revealing my status." Molam darted his eyes around for his sword or bow; both lay on the ground next to Primrose's feet. "What does Oasis stand to gain from allying with the Empire?" Molam kept his breathing shallow, doing his best to keep Lyka talking. "Is the Lord of Sands so keen on relinquishing his position to the Bloody Prince?"

"You understand nothing about our struggles in the Endless Sands." Lyka's stance changed, a shift of her feet and the speartip pointing downwards to the side. "Even if I can't stop the city's situation, I can still kill you and save us all from another of the Oracle's—"

The floor between them exploded upwards in a burst of wood, stone, and water, obscuring Lyka from their view. Shurra and Agytha blew through the newly demolished opening in the floor; Agytha, encased in a cocoon of water, slammed into the ceiling in a deluge of water as Shurra landed on the floor closer to Primrose and Molam. Shurra's sword gleamed as she pulled an arm back and threw her sword straight at Agytha, whose water shifted her to the side in time to dodge the thrown blade that buried itself into the ceiling.

"Shurra!" Primrose caught the Northern Warrior's attention. "Lyka has turned on us! They're working together!"

Shurra's entire body seemed drenched in water, her sodden clothes clung tightly around her frame as she ran a hand down her face and shook off the droplets. Molam shivered just thinking of the cold she must be experiencing, but the woman seemed to pay it no mind as she gave Primrose a curt nod before bounding across the splintered balcony, leaping high enough to yank her sword out of the ceiling before she landed near Lyka.

"Interfere and I'll kill you first," Shurra said to Lyka as she ran past in chase of Agytha.

Lyka didn't respond, allowing the woman to rush past her without a word as she kept her eyes closely fixed on Primrose and Molam. It wasn't until the thunderous thudding of the fight renewed that Lyka spoke again. "Northern Savages. Just like the Frozen Saint; always so eager to fight. But then, violence is all they have to prove, isn't it?"

It irked Molam that Lyka would use that insult for Northerners. He had spent almost a year in Hjornheim and could only not understand the Oasian distaste for tribal culture. "Sand Dwellers. Always scheming for that which they can't keep." Molam responded in kind, harkening back to the Northern distaste for the Shield and Spear of Oasis, who had abandoned the Northern Tribes' maneuver to control Crescent City in favor of Kamisukawa during the Frost Saint's rebellion. "You say you want to stop war, but did history not tell you what the Bloody Prince's actions resulted in? Have you forgotten the War of Crowns? The Frost Saint's Rebellion?"

"Have you not learned anything from their failures? Have you not seen what problems come about from the Oracle's machinations?" Lyka's tone grew angry. "Then again, how could you, Oracle's vessel? Perhaps you were happy to be chosen. So happy to see a mirage you choose to wade through quicksand." She shook her head. "Visionaries like the Lord of Sands focus on the direction the sand is falling; how do you think the Lord of Sands survived the War of Crowns? Techoria cannot stop the Bloody Prince, and once he obtains the SunFlower…" Lyka switched her stance again, a subtle shifting of her legs and grip on her spear. "No one can."

"And you think the Bloody Prince will just let Oasis stay Free?" Primrose walked up to the edge of the hole in the balcony. "This is folly, Lyka. Forget Kamisukawa; have you forgotten the destruction of Teljumaya as well? He's taking his time, but he's taking the Free Cities! It will never end so long as the Bloody Prince breathes! Not even Oasis will be spared!" She gestured backwards to Molam even as she slid his sword and bow to him. "Lyka, come to your senses! Without the Oracle's help, we have no chance!"

"We never had a chance!" Lyka shouted. "You've never fought him. I've never fought him. But the Lord of Sands has! Why do you think we hide away in the Endless Sands? The Bloody Prince can have his feud with the Oracle and the Leviathan — all we need to do is survive and not get in the way!"

"'Living' and 'not dying' are different, Lyka." Primrose whispered. "Eternally in fear? How would this be any different than the Endless Night?"

"But we live! You think the Lord of Sands enjoys his exile?!" Lyka's voice softened with pleading. "Prim. Please listen. Oasis is too far for the Bloody Prince to care about in his feud to open the Stairs. All we need to do is stop this madness before it begins. Then you and I can live in the upper levels of Oasis under the Lord's protection."

"Until the Bloody Prince destroys your home too! How can you be so unaware? Others have traveled down that path and we know where it leads!"

Lyka closed her eyes and Molam saw a tear run down her face before she wiped it away with the back of her hand. "I see you cannot be convinced otherwise." Her grip on her spear seemed to slack, then the Sand Spear opened her eyes with grim resolve as she walked to the edge of the hole. "I genuinely wanted to grow flowers with you, Prim." The Sand Spear threw a look at Molam, who notched an arrow on instinct. "But duty above all."

"Very few flowers grow in sand." Primrose's voice cracked again as she took a defensive stance, her daggers held at the ready. "And my name is Primrose. Don't do this, Lyka. Even with your spear's reach, you can't possibly jump over here and dodge me in midair while I guard this edge."

"Primrose then." Giving a regretful smile, Lyka looked down at the ground and shook her head. "This reminds me of that time we met, huh, Primrose?"

The Sand Spear pulled her arm back and launched her spear. Primrose leapt back, the spear impaling into the ground where her legs had been and by the time she looked up, Lyka had already leapt past the hole, her hand enclosing the shaft of her spear.

Molam drew back the arrow and fired.