POV - Alexander

Alexander walked down the gradual slope, the sandstone crumbling underfoot. The wandering fangs had passed over the mountain range days ago, and at last, the city came into view. The ravine in which it sat scarred the landscape—a deep, jagged wound. It looked exactly as he remembered it, though in slightly better condition. The last time he'd arrived, Sam’eth had been pounding on the city’s walls for weeks. Now, they hoped sticking to this route would help them avoid any wandering skirmishes.

Kael kept glancing behind them, his unease written in every glance. But the closer they came to the city, the more his tension ebbed.

By the time they leveled with the gorge, Alexander could make out the five main bridges spanning it. The city was close now—within reach. But just as they stepped onto the open field leading to the nearest bridge, everything unraveled.

Kael, leading the pack, abruptly halted his mount. His sharp, commanding voice cut through the air.

“Everyone, on guard! Something’s coming!”

Weapons scraped free as the group stiffened, eyes scanning the barren expanse. Ashe and Nox moved closer to Alexander, their wolves shifting nervously beneath them, ears flicking back. Overhead, a thick blanket of clouds rolled in, drowning the sun in oppressive gray.

“Behind us!” Selia’s urgent voice snapped through the silence.

Alexander twisted in his saddle as a figure emerged from the shadows of a jagged crag. The man stepped into the murky light, his presence darkening the gray around him. Shadows clung unnaturally to his form, warping the light so it seemed both brighter and dimmer at once.

Recognition hit Alexander like a blow. That face—the Black Cardinal. A nightmare seared into his memory from the final battle at Lorthil. He was here too early, far too early.

Alex’s gaze shot to Kael, who already had his weapon drawn. His jaw clenched. They couldn’t fight this man—not now.

The Cardinal was a fair distance away, but with a single step, he blurred forward, closing the gap between them.

“Wonderful,” he said, his voice resonant and sinister. “New initiates. I’ll need men to crack this putrid egg wide open. Come, all of you, bathe in the grace of our god Cyclem.”

Kael dismounted, placing his hand over his heart in a salute. Sweat poured down his neck, dampening his collar.

“It is an honor to meet one as powerful as you, my friend. How may I address you?”

The Cardinal barely glanced at him before turning away, eyes fixed elsewhere. Figures emerged from the shadows behind him, forming ranks. Alexander recognized the Oathsworn. If they stayed, they’d be surrounded.

“Leave your worries behind and come rest in the shade,” the Cardinal said, his tone deceptively soothing.

Kael gritted his teeth, his gaze darting to Alexander. They’d all heard the rumors. When a Cardinal was on a crusade, the man beneath the title was gone. What remained was an instrument of the gods—unstoppable and unreasoning.

Alexander shook his head subtly. They couldn’t afford to stay.

Kael swallowed hard, then raised a hand to his mouth and let out a piercing whistle.

“Scatter!”

The wandering fangs bolted in all directions. Alexander yanked on his wolf's reins, guiding the beast after Nox. Around him, the group split, some surprised by Kael’s command but none hesitating.

Alexander kept his eyes on the path ahead. They had to reach the bridges. If the city saw this, they might retract the bridges to keep the Oathsworn out—but they had to act fast.

“Apprehend the non-believers,” the Cardinal intoned.

In a blink, he was in front of Kael. Gerade and his wolf lunged at him, a desperate strike. A shadowy beam erupted from the Cardinal, obliterating the Rime wolf’s head. The massive creature crumpled mid-leap, dead before hitting the ground.

Gerade screamed, leaping from the corpse and charging at the Cardinal with murder in his eyes.

Kael dismounted, vaporous energy wreathing his form, amplifying his speed and reflexes. His spear darted forward, striking only shadow.

Alexander spurred his wolf forward, speeding in the opposite direction. He knew what awaited those captured by the Cardinal. Death would be a mercy compared to that.

Kael’s strikes disrupted the shadows briefly, but his fourth attack never landed. Dark energy surged outward, blasting him off his feet and dissipating the protective vapors around him.

Alexander caught up to Ashe and Nox, shouting over the chaos.

“Keep running! No matter what!”

Men and women in heavy armor emerged, forming a wall of shields. The wandering fangs collided with them, some riders falling instantly. Alexander wove through the gaps, Ashe close behind. Others weren’t so lucky, ensnared by strands of shadow.

Selia’s wolf went down, throwing her clear. She rolled, rising with weapons drawn. She cut down two Oathsworn before the rest overwhelmed her.

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The ramp to the city loomed ahead. The bridges groaned, their metal frames retracting into the sandstone. Only half a dozen wolves leapt onto the narrowing surface. Others tried but abandoned the jump as the gap became too wide.

Alexander glanced back at the battlefield. The wandering fangs were falling, one by one. Kael fought fiercely, but even he was eventually brought down.

Mark swore under his breath. This was a disaster. He needed Kael to cross the desert, without him they would be lost.

“Alex, behind us!” Nox shouted.

Alexander turned toward the city. Spellshields were approaching, accompanied by Current Riders.

“We stay together and find a place to lay low. We need to think this through.”

They had arrived in Lorthil but in the worst possible condition. Alex stood at the front, bracing to meet the incoming men. In the back of his mind, he found himself missing Emily's usual indifferent attitude—it would certainly be welcome in their current predicament.

POV - Emily

Harsh light poured down from crystals embedded in the ceiling, effectively mimicking the stark glow of fluorescent bulbs from Emily’s world. The illumination gave the small interrogation room a sterile and unwelcoming appearance. Emily leaned back in a simple chair, quietly observing the three other individuals in the room.

The scene was so familiar it was almost comforting to her.

A red-bearded man sat across the table, while another member of his team stood nearby, watching Emily intently. The moment she had entered the room, she felt a strange dampening sensation settle over her shoulders, leading her to assume the man was a Jailer or something similar.

Just to be certain, she activated a vital shell and confirmed her skills were being suppressed. It limited the cards Emily could play, but just like last time, her power remained ready to act if necessary. The only explanation Emily could come up with was that the skill blocked the title from communicating with its bearer. While this didn’t matter to her now, as one accumulated strength and titles, the restriction would likely become less bothersome.

For example, Emily had learned much from Performer. Though she didn’t have it slotted at the moment, that didn’t mean she couldn’t use the knowledge it had imparted.

The last person in the room was the female bear, who stood in the corner watching Emily with the same fascination one might have for an animal in a zoo.

Emily turned her attention back to the man sitting across from her.

“Right, we never officially met, but my name is Roland. I am the vice-captain of the sixteenth district, and I will be conducting your interview.”

The bear woman frowned at Roland before chiming in.

“And I am Citta, an ambassador to our fair city. Lorthil welcomes you, my friend.”

The moment Citta had spotted Emily, she had tried to whisk her away from the building, but Roland had stood his ground. The two seemed at odds. Though Citta appeared annoyed by his resistance, she hadn’t argued further.

Emily snorted.

“Not feeling particularly welcome at this stage.”

Roland rolled his eyes as he leafed through the document in front of him.

“The mere fact that your hands aren't bound is more than enough welcome if you ask me.”

Citta tutted at Roland and turned to Emily.

“Do not fret. This interview is nothing more than a formality devised by those with too much time on their hands.”

Roland’s face twitched, and he glared at the robed official before returning his focus to Emily.

“Right, what brings you to our fair city, and what do you desire to do while here? Keep in mind, lying right now is impossible.”

Emily glanced at the guard beside the table, who was watching her intently. From her experience with Selia, she knew truthtelling skills were quite thorough, so she decided to test the limits.

“The reason I came to Lorthil is that I was told it was the best place to get to my destination. And right now, the only desires I have are for a bath, good food, and a bed.”

Roland frowned and cleared his throat.

“And what destination might that be?”

Emily couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t rightly know.”

Roland’s expression hardened, but a glance at the Jailer confirmed that she was telling the truth.

At least Alex’s paranoia had been helpful in some way.

“Look, you really want to work with us here,” Roland said.

Emily nodded.

“That’s what I’m doing. I’m not lying to you. I truly don’t know where we were headed.”

Roland huffed.

“You’re telling me you came from the Spineback Mountains, passed through the Maw, over the Wyrm’s Playground, and never thought to ask where you were going? Are you mad?”

Emily’s smile faded slightly.

“It’s not that I never asked. It’s just that I never got an answer. I’m not any happier about it than you are, but some circumstances forced me to make the trip. Now, you have your answer. Ask your other questions.”

Roland squinted at Emily’s crossed arms and sighed, scribbling something on the page in front of him. She couldn’t make out the words from her seat.

“So, you don’t know where you’re going. What city did you come from?”

This question was easier to answer. Emily recounted Targin’s Keep and the village they had stopped at along the way. At the mention of the keep, the others frowned.

“What, you guys not on good terms?” Emily asked curiously.

Citta was the one to respond.

“Actually, they were among the allies we sent a message to for aid, but we have yet to receive a response.”

Emily frowned, recalling the documentation they’d been handed by the Noble. Could there have been a response among those papers? Alex had been the one to read them, but she wasn’t about to bring that up on a hunch.

“Actually, I have a question of my own,” Emily said, inspecting her nails. “How are you all so calm with enemies at your front door?”

Roland glanced at Citta, and for the first time since meeting the grumpy man, Emily saw him smile.

Citta scratched her head before answering.

“To be honest, it’s nothing new for our two neighboring cities to quarrel. They threaten war every decade or so, but we always endure. This city has never fallen, and it won’t this time, either. The men stationed outside are no more a threat than a child kicking and screaming.”

Emily raised a brow at the comment. Sure, she wasn’t fond of the religious people outside, but Citta spoke as if infiltrating the city was an impossibility.

If they wanted to get inside, though, they had someone capable of killing a mother Wyrm. She doubted the city could withstand an assault like that for long, though they must have their own powerhouses.

Not that it mattered to her. Emily just wanted to find Alex and leave before the real fighting began.

“Good to hear. So, are there any other questions, or are we done here?” she asked impatiently.

Roland glanced at Citta, his expression growing more serious.

“Yes, just one more. Do you, through action or inaction, intend to harm this city in any way?”

Emily shook her head.

“I can confidently say that I want nothing of the sort. I intend no harm to the city, but I won’t sacrifice my life to protect it, either.”

The guard beside Roland visibly relaxed at this response.

Citta seized the moment.

“Well, if that’s all you wanted to ask Lady Emily, then you can release her into my capable hands. Thank you for your service, Roland.”

The vice-captain grunted as he studied Emily, searching for any hint of deceit. When he found none, he sighed and glanced at the Jailer. Emily felt her skills return as the suppression lifted.

“All right, but remember—she’s your problem now,” Roland said.

Citta nodded hurriedly, opening the door.

Emily rose as Roland stood, and she followed Citta out. At the door, she paused and turned back, noticing Roland still watching her.

“Don’t forget our deal.”

She winked and stepped into the light.

Blood points: 298