Keagan was fleeing.

He had been riding on the back of a military strig for a period of time his mind couldn’t gauge, but he could see the sun was going down. He didn’t know if he should stop, but the animal would do it for him eventually. The hastily packed bag would only last him a short period, hopefully enough to make it to a base somewhere on the road.

That wasn’t what was on his mind.

He could see two faces. One of them was his partner. The person who completed him and fought alongside him every step of the way.

That face was ruined. Melted and burnt at the hands of the other face that he had in mind.

North.

The Corithian. No, that was no Corithian. That was a monster. A beast that had only just started to surface and gain shape, one that needed to be nipped at the bud before it could shift into its true form.

He looked like a child, but there was something beneath that couldn’t be allowed to see the light of day. If it did, the entirety of Arlin would burn in its wake. With his mentor and the support of so many attuned, he was a danger to all of the people on Sol.

Keagan’s mind was analytical, and the only way he could stave off the growing dread in the back of his mind was to analyze everything that had happened in that fight. The light attunement, the usage of magore weapons, and the most pertinent of all, the ability to create a magore reaction without a primer.

Keagan could surmise one thing from those events, and it horrified him.

He was only just beginning.

North, this beast in human skin, was just coming into his powers and learning to use them. If he had mastered his light attunement, Keagan would surely have died back there.

Yet Theodore had taken his place. His love.

Keagan could feel the emotions inside him rage like a fire every time his face came to mind. He would track him down and make him feel the pain and suffering that he inflicted on Theodore. He would pay for his sins with every single drop of blood in his body. As he fled, the lieutenant etched this mission into his shattered heart.

North would die.

And it would be at Keagan’s hands.

***

Orven’s eyes slowly opened to reveal his surroundings, which was soon followed by a massive headache. His hands slowly reached to feel the back of his skull, where a massive bump now resided. Simply touching it felt horrid, especially for a man so unused to severe pain.

It took him a second, but he finally noticed that his surroundings were different, but not unfamiliar. He’d been to this place several times, yet he was always on the other side of the door.

He was in The Hollow. It was a prison for those who offended the empire on an ideological level. It was usually terrorists or rebel leaders, awaiting trial and execution. This was odd, because Orven was neither of those.

It didn’t matter. It was probably at the whims of the young emperor, attempting to scare him. Orven’s corruption, at least corruption by the emperor’s definition, was rather mild compared to some of his fellow court members. His age had left him with enough natural wealth to not need to go through underhanded means.

There was another reason why he could be here, and that could be rather worrying.

Roland.

The evidence connecting him to the crime was flimsy at best, and nonexistent at worst. He’d done his due diligence making sure that all the details were crossed and every line of communication between himself and the assassin had been snipped, sometimes literally. The amount of intermediaries he’d used could even be called comical. If he had to guess, about half of those men were now dead.

Yet the idea that the young Arlin could connect him to such a crime clawed at the back of his mind, even as he tried to cleanse himself of it.

Orven took a deep breath and got up off of the damp stone floor to finally examine his surroundings. He was in a rather small room, smaller than his bathroom. It was rather damp, and the only opening to the outside were a few bars that peered to the outside and allowed for a small bit of light. There was no bed nor a chamber pot in sight. It was not as though Orven had expected a toilet, as those were rare outside of the upper classes in society. Although faint, he could hear a woman’s voice screaming in the distance and the sounds of vermin skittering about.

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Then there was the smell. Rancid was an understatement. Excrement and all other waste permeated the air and forced itself into the nostrils of Orven. He’d only spent passing moments in The Hollow and remembered how horrid it smelled, but being inside the cell amplified it to a degree he couldn’t have fathomed before.

In truth, he was probably given one of the better cells. During his last visit, he had seen a cell which was the size of a broom closet, with no room for a person to sit down. On one wall was an opening where a lamp had been placed and was left constantly burning. A guard was stationed outside and would wake the prisoner whenever they tried to sleep. It was a rather sinister method of torture that was used to get confessions out of political prisoners. Orven’s station surely had given him this small, albeit appreciated, luxury.

Finally taking in the situation, Orven did one thing that no other prisoner would do in his situation. He laughed. It made his headache worse, but he laughed. The young emperor had his whims, but surely this would be just a temporary farce. Killing Roland was going to make him temperamental, but it was nothing the members of his faction couldn’t deal with. Empty threats were a part of his life that he’d grown accustomed to, and this one would surely pass.

Cackling like a madman, Minister Orven smiled and awaited the freedom that he rightfully deserved.

***

Nicole’s dark blue hair danced in the sea breeze as she looked out upon the horizon. The sun had already set, the vessel only lit by lanterns and the stars.

Nicole loved the ocean, as any good citizen of Pluma should. It was one of the things she had missed the most when she was put into the camps. The sound of crashing waves, the smell of the sea breeze and the lingering taste of salt that permeated every single breath brought back cherished memories of a simpler time. The majority of the other slaves who had followed her on her journey to her homeland didn’t appear to share the same sentiment, their stomachs making most of that argument.

The ship they were currently on was called The Radiance. It was owned by a captain of the name of Elias, one of the many captains she had met over the years who owed her a favor. While an uncommon occurrence, the Radiance would sometimes carry cargo that the empire would consider less desirable. A few years back, the emperor had made the rather hasty decision to ramp up security at the nation’s ports. Captain Elias had realized the mistake of carrying undesirable cargo during that period of time, but lacked the funds to successfully bribe port officials. He came to port on a small boat and, aware of the Allena family’s reputation, asked for them to assist his vessel in docking.

By that point, Nicole was known in specific circles for having an odd manner of making deals. While most would simply exchange lin, a practice she also indulged in, Nicole would often trade and deal in more ethereal matters such as favors and alliances. If one lacked the necessary funds or wanted access to her wide array of connections, they would come to her. Elias was the former, which meant that Nicole could bend them to her will.

Elias survived, but became subservient to the Allena oligarchs. If they had a request, The Radiance was regularly their first choice. Nicole had acquired other captains which served her purposes, but Elias was a personal favorite. That was what made finding him in Mylia such a great boon, and what allowed for her to call in such a unique favor.

Nicole heard footsteps behind her and turned to see the man himself coming in her direction. His short blackened hair softly swayed as he put his arms on the railing to match her position, his beady green eyes joining her in watching the horizon.

“You look awfully pensive.”

“I am. It has been a while since I have come home. I do hope the fog is the same as I remember.” Nicole said as her eyes danced along the waves. The perpetual gray haze that covered the streets of Duskarna was another thing she had greatly missed in her time as a slave.

“I can happily assure you that the fog is still there.” Elias responded with a smile. “But I’m assuming you’re worried about your family.”

Of course.

That was the news that had caught her the most off guard. When they first met, Elias told her about the problems back home with the Allena’s. A third party had stepped into the field and started removing property and connections from several members of the oligarchy. Allena was one of them, and they appeared to be their central target. The information that Elias had was limited, but all that he knew was that the Allena’s didn’t have the same sway as they did before.

Once Nicole got back, she would begin fighting immediately. None could besmirch her family’s honor and get away with it. It would be harder than usual, as they lacked their usual connections, but Nicole had a supply of favors she could utilize when the time was pertinent.

One of them was a lot more useful than others, but that would have to come at another time. He was far from ready, and Nicole wouldn’t dare interrupt his just war. She understood the importance of patience, a trait often lacking in the desire driven nation of Pluma.

That was, of course, hinged on whether or not he survived. War was a deadly expense, and his survival was far from guaranteed. Arlin didn’t give mercy to those with such heroic ideals. He may even be dead now.

“I will fight to regain our power. I presume you will also help me in this endeavor?” she asked, the words coiling around Elias’s neck like a snake.

“Of course, Lady Allena.”

Her noble smile grew wide as her eyes turned back to the horizon. Despite not seeing land, they were rather close to the shore. It would only be a few more weeks till she would arrive in Duskarna’s ports and return back to her family with open arms. Even still, her eyes were focused in the direction of where they had come from.

He hated her. The young Corithian despised Nicole in a way that she rarely got to experience. It delighted her, knowing the person who might hate her the most was directly under her thumb. His naivete made him perfect for a woman like Nicole. If things went her way, as they tended to do, she would have a great tool at her disposal.

Not yet.

North’s time was yet to come. His moment would arrive, and when it did, she would be there with her hand outstretched and a smile on her face.

Arlin was about to crumble under the weight of its sins.

She was happy knowing that she would get to watch it all with front row seats.

For a woman like Nicole Garcia Pluma Allena, war made for great entertainment.