Wyn and Kei parted ways after leaving the merchant guild. She said she had errands to run before leaving, and had no interest in joining him at his next destination, so she left, leaving him the writ Udyr had given them for the initial investigation.

He had been feeling it for some time now. The gap. More and more he’d been losing against Corrin as mana pushed his abilities further beyond what Wyn was capable of. During their battle, one thing had become abundantly clear: at that moment, Corrin was stronger. Spirit fire was a powerful tool, but it wasn’t enough on its own. He would need more, and with mana thus far being a dead end, he had one more avenue to pursue.

Thanks to the writ, it only took a little asking around with the guards to find the prison where he was being held. The building on the edge of the plateau was small, but solidly constructed from well-maintained stone. At first Wyn was confused by its size, it was hardly large enough to hold any prisoners unless they were all cramped in one room.

Like the rest of Precipice though, its structure was anything but normal.

The guards posted in the building were hesitant to let him pass at first, but when one of them recognized him, and he showed the writ, they were more than happy to let him through. They led him out the back, to a small lift on the cliff-face. It hardly had enough room for three people, so with him and the one guard that went with him, it was almost entirely full.

Wyn descended down the lift towards a small hole bored into the cliff face, far too smooth to have been blasted away by firestone. Precipice’s main prison only had one way in and out, which in theory would make it almost impossible to escape from, with the only exit leading straight out to a thousand-foot drop.

Wyn doubted that particular security measure would help hold the prisoner he was looking for. Assuming the bond between man and spirit beast worked the same as his with Eia, the thief could likely call his partner from–

Wait, how far can we communicate from? He thought towards Eia. It had only been recently that he’d gained the ability to converse with her mentally, and she never went too far, so he hadn’t yet thought to test it. Is there even a limit?

There shouldn’t be, her thought came through with an intense feeling of hesitance. But I don’t like to get too far.

Can you do it this once? I want to test it.

I can, but keep the bond open okay? Except for embarrassing thoughts!

Of course, the very mention brought plenty of embarrassing thoughts to mind, but he’d gotten good enough to control the flow of information, at least when he was focusing on it, and he didn’t think they reached her.

Just start by going to the bottom of the cliff, let me know when you get there.

All right. She said as the lift ground to a halt.

He didn’t know quite where she was, and no purple light zipped past him, so she must not have been with him to begin with, meaning the distance would be even greater.

Wyn stepped off the platform and into the tunnel. It was large enough to just fit him and the one guard stationed at the bottom standing almost shoulder to shoulder, and he suspected Udyr, with his freakish height, might’ve even had to crouch a little if he came down here. Before Wyn said a word, the guard that had been on the lift with him spoke.

“He’s here to see the new prisoner.”

A grunt was the only response given by the tunnel guard as he turned and walked back into the tunnels. Hesitantly, Wyn followed, and he heard the lift start to work its way back up the cliffside as he descended into the tunnels.

The lightstone-lit passageways were set with cells at regular intervals–bars of iron driven into the floor and ceiling with a similarly cast door. Each cell was simple, with a bed, toilet, and a small shelf and chair. Wyn cringed as they walked further, imagining himself trapped in such a cell, he might go crazy. A few of the cells were occupied, and most of the prisoners gave him a look as he walked by. He supposed they might’ve seemed frightening some years ago with their scarred faces and tattooed bodies, but compared to Din Kai, they weren’t anything special.

Except for one man. In one of the cells was a young man–no, he may have been old. It was difficult to tell. His head was completely shaved, but his gaze snapped up as Wyn came into view. He walked–crouching the whole way, though he wasn’t very tall–to the bars of the cell. He grabbed them and stared at Wyn with two different-colored eyes, one white and one blue. Half of his face, on the side of his blue eye, was stretched and slightly disfigured in a way that reminded Wyn vaguely of burn scars.

As he stared, every hair on Wyn’s body stood on end. He felt the same sensation as when he spoke with Udyr, but magnified a hundred times, as if his veins were filled with ice.

Wyn forced himself to look away, and as he kept walking past, the feeling fled, but the image of the man’s eyes remained a bit longer.

I’ve reached the bottom. Eia said through their bond.

That’s at least over a mile! Wyn thought, astonished. Keep going.

A feeling of anxiety was all he got in return.

Eventually, they reached the cell he’d been waiting for. The thief, whose name Wyn had only learned earlier that day, was lying in the corner of the cell on his back, with his legs straight up against the wall so he was almost fully upside down.

“Phyrus,” Wyn said. “We should talk.”

Phyrus let his body fall off the wall and sprung to his feet. It wasn’t the supernatural agility he’d shown before, but it had still taken some dexterity. He walked over and sat down on the bench, looking towards Wyn through the bars.

“I’m afraid I don’t know your name in return, but thank you for coming.” He seemed calmer now. Somehow it lined up more with how he’d acted during the heist than when he’d been confronted in his home.

“My name is Wyn. Do you know why I’m here?” Wyn asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “Frankly? No, I have no idea.”

Wyn glanced over towards the guard who had stationed himself next to the cell. “Can you give me some privacy?”

The guard gave him a suspicious look.

“I’m the one that captured him. You think I’m going to break him out?” Wyn deadpanned.

The guard sighed. “Don’t exchange any items with him, and don’t do anything else stupid either. Don’t even think about trying to let him out of his cell. These tunnels are rigged to be collapsible, so if I think anything suspicious is going on, I won’t hesitate.”

After his warning, he left, and Wyn listened until his footsteps were out of earshot.

“Good, we can talk freely,” Wyn said.

Phyrus shifted comfortably in his cell. “So we can. Though I admit I’m more interested now than before.”

“I’ll do the right thing and inform you of the two most important things first. One, your wife is going to be fine. I talked to the doctors in the area, they’ll make sure she gets the treatment she needs. They expect her to have mostly recovered in a few more weeks.”

“Thank you for that,” Phyrus nodded. “It would’ve all been pointless if she died… well, mostly.”

Wyn raised an eyebrow. “Secondly, I was able to negotiate leniency for your crimes. I don’t know exactly what that means in terms of your sentence, but I expect it will help greatly.”

“I wouldn’t mind them moving me to one of the topside prisons, those at least have windows. They let you get out and walk around too.”

“You know why they won’t let you.”

“Yes yes, it’d be too easy for me to escape, not that I would try. I feel like they could figure a way around that. Who knows? Maybe they will. Still, this cell really is the worst.”

“Yeah…” Wyn grimaced, looking around the roughly eight by eight foot space. “I can imagine.”

“Well, I’ll keep my fingers crossed. Perhaps the winds can find their way in here anyways. Now, I assume you didn’t just come here to deliver that news?”

Wyn nodded, his fist clenching. “You’d be right. I have two things I need to ask you.”

“By all means,” Phyrus spread his arms.

“Firstly, why did you steal so much? I checked, and it shouldn’t have cost so much to treat your wife.”

“Well… it wasn’t entirely about that.”

“Then what?”

“It’s a bit of a story. Do you know anything about my last profession?”

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“You were a tamer right? Is that how you got your abilities?”

“Getting ahead of ourselves,” he chuckled. “The story starts almost a year ago…”

He began to tell Wyn the story of his life before. He’d been a tamer on The Grass Sea. Not of Veldstriders–as was apparently popular–but of messenger birds. It was through this job that he would go out on expeditions into the sea, traveling to nearby towns and on short expeditions in order to help train the birds.

“But the sea isn’t such an easy place. Dealing with grassward, leopards, and even graspers is one thing, but it is much harder to avoid pirates. One of the expeditions went wrong–we were boarded. I only survived thanks to my bond with Kori.” He paused for a moment, and made a face of disgust. “I… impressed them.”

“Wait so you were already bonded at that point?” Wyn asked.

“Yes, that happened some time ago, long before this event.”

“I see, so what happened after?”

“That… that is when everything began to fall apart. They let me live. But they did not let me go. When they found out my abilities could be useful for theft, they began to blackmail me, threatening my family if I stopped helping them. I should’ve done something about it–perhaps I even could’ve–but I didn’t. As much as I hated what it made me, I admit… I liked using my abilities freely. Pushing myself to that level was thrilling, and it paid far better than taming birds.” Phyrus was staring at his hands.

“But wait,” Wyn said. “I thought the thefts only started two months ago?”

“Two months ago, my wife became sick with breathbane. The treatment was expensive due to her blood weakness. I couldn’t afford it whilst I was still paying them. Not unless I went bigger.”

“So you started stealing from the guild.” Wyn finished, a sour taste in his mouth.

“Aye. I avoided the most guarded warehouses–they’re protected by channelers or mages usually–and focused on striking at the lesser ones. Most guards had no way of keeping up with me.”

Wyn nodded, it made sense. There was no way a normal person would’ve been able to catch Phyrus. Even without mana, Wyn was faster and stronger than any non-channelers he’d met, besides Corrin before the flood. Yet Phyrus was faster still, matching even Corrin’s channeling speed. “And how about now? Are they still going to try and collect payment?”

Phyrus shook his head though. “Around a month ago, they stopped contacting me. Given the circumstances, I suspect something happened in the sea, though I couldn’t say what. It is possible they were killed, either by man or monster, though I know not which. It is also possible they are still alive, but I doubt they would forget to contact me for so long if so.”

“Then… why didn’t you stop?”

“Without needing to pay them… I intended to make enough to finish her treatments, and then a sizable sum to live off of. It was just so easy, especially once I realized I could pull Kori’s immunity to grassward. I wouldn’t have to hurt anyone, I could be in and out with no one being any wiser.”

Wyn sighed. So in the end, it just came down to greed? He felt a tinge of annoyance that he shoved down. Phyrus’ motivations aside, he had another reason he’d come.

“Fine, I’ve heard enough about that. I want to know something else.”

“And that would be?”

“Your abilities. I want you to explain them to me, consider it payment for my getting you leniency.”

“I don’t understand… Do you not have the same?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Are you a channeler?” Wyn asked.

“I am not, at least as far as I am aware.” Phyrus said. “Though I have yet to meet someone like me… besides you. I consider myself bonded.”

“Start at the beginning,” Wyn crossed his arms. “How did you bond with Kori in the first place? Do you know?”

Phyrus gazed off. “It was some years back. I was still a tamer, and just a young man. While they don’t make for good messengers, I have always been fascinated by sunset gliders. So when I would go out on expeditions, I would try to befriend them. My bond with Kori was the product of months if not years. I cannot say when exactly it began, but at some point, she began coming consistently when I was near her flock. Then, she began to visit me even without them.”

“How did you learn to… become faster?” Wyn asked.

“It started small,” Phyrus said. “The first time I noticed anything was when I was feeding her one day. I found myself staring at her food, thinking it must be absolutely delicious. As things like that kept happening, I realized it was her thoughts I was thinking. Pulling speed and weight I learned during a grasper attack. It was instinct more than anything, and if she hadn’t been there, I would’ve been dead.”

“Pulling?” Wyn asked. “And what do you mean if she hadn’t been there?”

“Ah… pulling is what I call it when I use our bond for things. I can pull agility, weight, immunity to grassward, and even eyesight. I can only do it when she’s near me. Same with communication.”

Wyn’s head spun. Pulling attributes from his bond? How was that different from a spirit blessing? Eia had said his blessing couldn’t exist without the bond. Did that mean that he was already pulling spirit fire? Or was he pulling the blessing itself? Was he pulling anything at all?

He decided to start simple. “How near? And how well can you communicate?”

“I can’t pull unless she’s within about three hundred feet of me. We can communicate at about five hundred I’d say? Past a few miles I can’t even tug the bond to get her attention. Everything becomes easier the closer she is.”

Three hundred feet… Wyn tried to burn spirit fire. It ignited no problem, with no noticeable differences.

Eia can you still hear me? He thought. How far away are you?

Yes, I can… too far Wyn! I’m way out over The Grass Sea now… can I please come back?

He did some quick math in his head. It had been maybe fifteen minutes since the start of their conversation. She was likely miles out over the sea by now. He wanted her to go further, how far could he push it? But as her anxiety grew through the bond, he sighed.

Yes, of course Eia. You can come back now. Thank you.

Whatever his range was, it seemed greater than Phyrus’, and it seemed high enough that it wouldn’t likely matter in practice. As for forming the bond, his process had been different. Was that why he hadn’t been able to pull physical abilities? No, if he had to guess, it likely had to do with the source of the bond. Phyrus was bonded to a spirit beast with a physical form and abilities, Wyn was bonded to a spirit.

“Can Kori talk?” Wyn asked.

Phyrus rubbed his chin. “Not out loud if that’s what you mean. If you mean through the bond, then sort of. At first, I could only catch vague, animalistic impressions: when she was hungry or frightened for example, and she couldn’t understand me. She grew… more intelligent over time. She still can’t talk, but she can communicate ideas, and we can understand each other.”

“So it’s reciprocal,” Wyn mused. Phyrus gained abilities, and the bird gained intelligence in return.

I’m probably not pulling spirit fire then? Since spirit fire is what allows Eia to manifest in the first place, unless we’re both pulling it somehow. She said that it couldn’t exist without the bond, but also that the bond couldn’t exist without spirit fire, so I don’t think it’s as simple as her pulling it from me either. It’s something different.

“One last question,” Wyn said. “Do you know what spirit fire is? Can you summon lavender flames?”

“Spirit fire? I’ve never heard of the term, and I certainly can’t do anything as flashy as summoning flames.”

“I see… Thank you. You’ve been helpful.”

Phyrus shrugged. “It’s the least I can do. Even though you had no reason to, you made sure my wife would be alright. I owe you for that.”

“Still, I’m surprised you aren’t holding a grudge, I’m the reason you’re in here,” Wyn said.

“This is true, but I can’t blame you for it. I would rather not have been caught, but I won’t blame the one who caught me.” He shook his head. “My mind is clearer since yesterday now that there is nothing I can do. I’d been at a sprint for so long, I thought that running was all that was left for me. You dragged me to the ground and forced me to stop, now I will try to remember what it means to walk.”

Wyn stuck his hand through the bars. “I hope you can get back on track when you get out of here.”

Phyrus took it, grasping his arm firmly. “I shall. Perhaps I’ll see you again?”

“Maybe someday, but I’m just passing through for now. If I come back, I’ll be sure to try and find you.”

“I will look forward to the day when the winds bring us together again. Good luck on your journey my friend.”

“Good luck Phyrus. May the winds be at your back.”

Wyn released his hand, and walked away, back towards the entrance. He passed the guard that had taken him in around the corner, and the man immediately fell into step next to him, leading him out.

It had been a short visit, but fruitful. Pulling attributes, forming a bond–he understood them better now, and even better, he was fairly sure they were replicable. If he found a spirit beast that didn’t try to kill him, he could start trying to form a bond with it. It might be hard to do on the road, but he would figure something out. He could finally see the route forward, and if he took it, he could get stronger. Still, Iillia had told him that spirit fire was ‘the power of bonds’, so if Phyrus didn’t have any, then how was he bonded? Did it have to do with the fact his range with Eia was greater? He felt that he was close, so close to getting a big piece of the puzzle, but the full picture still eluded him.

“Hey! Hey you! With the black hair!” A voice called out from up ahead, breaking him out of his thoughts. The voice was impossibly smooth, but there was a certain lilt of insanity to it. A prisoner was sticking his hand out of their cell.

“I told you to stay inside the cell!” The guard yelled, running ahead. He smacked the hand with a short club, and it retreated slowly, but there was no cry of pain.

Wyn passed the cell. It was the bald man from earlier. He was staring at Wyn with a faint smile as he gripped the bars tightly.

“Do you hear her voice?” The man asked. “The queen, do you hear her??”

Wyn looked into the man’s mismatched eyes. There was madness there. “The queen? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t bother,” the guard said, grabbing Wyn’s arm. “That one there is insane. He’ll be silent most of the time, but some days he’ll ramble nonsense over and over. It has gotten worse with time. He came here willingly almost ten years ago, saying he worried he was a danger to others, but those times of lucidity are long gone.”

“Ah you will end it!” The man laughed. “The shackles will be broken! It is the best of days! My brothers and sisters, we shall once more be free! It comes it comes itcomesitcomesitcomesitcomes…”

There was a creaking sound, and Wyn’s eyes widened as the bars holding the man seemed to deform under his grip.

“Beware the ash which hides the dark and the bones which stake the earth… ah such love for loss, oh such death for life! He is free, and his army is risen! And yet and yet and yet and yet he will burn!” He suddenly looked up to the sky, his voice pitched higher and higher, he let go of the bars holding them in the air. Wyn thought at that moment his eyes might have even been glowing faintly. “I am here, my queen! Spare me this fate!”

His voice fell lower again, and he bit his fingers nervously. “But they suffer… oh what is this abomination? This horror. This pain. This monstrosity. Oh how you will suffer.”

Wyn began to walk away, the air growing uncomfortable from the man’s ramblings.

The man’s voice faded as Wyn turned the corner, but he heard one last sentence, whispered quietly. “Have a good trip bearer! I will await your return…”

Wyn felt a chill, and the silence that followed felt more unnatural than before.

Finally, the guard spoke, perhaps he’d seen Wyn’s face. “Madness is a terrifying thing is it not? In the first two years, he was a good, wise man. I would even go to him for advice when I was younger. He has no family we’ve been able to find, and we don’t even know his real name. He never gave one, so we eventually began calling him the monk. Unfortunately, there is no treatment for infirmess of the mind.”

Wyn nodded, burning some spirit fire to give him more clarity. Something was definitely not normal about that man. He had a presence unlike any Wyn had ever felt, and there was something else about him that Wyn couldn’t put his finger on. It was unnerving, but he could find no meaning in the man’s words. He forced himself to think of other things, like what he’d learned from Phyrus, and how he would reconcile with Corrin.

Soon, he’d reached the entrance of the prison again. He bid the guard farewell as the platform descended back down. He stepped on it, and a moment later it began to rise back up towards the top.

With that, his business in Precipice was done.