I fell down, down into a pit of black, caught in a state between dream and wakefulness.

It was a dark place, where light came solely from a tiny, flickering flame that burned upon a smooth rock wall. Red the fire was, and dancing high and scorching the wall’s surface a deep black.

As if through a haze, I looked about me, and a heavy familiarity fell upon me. Whether this was a dream or memory, or simply my imagination, I knew not, but the more I looked around, the less I wanted to be here. The walls were oppressive, almost looming over me, and the air felt thin, cold and lifeless.

There was a narrow tunnel far ahead, where from came a grey light, but it did not reach the opening where I stood.

Hewed into the rock were shelves, made with great skill and care, with countless tiny symbols engraved on the edges. Set on them were dozens of trinkets, trophies and curiosities that triggered a recognition. Looking ahead was a long slab of smooth stone, covered with weathered furs of rich tangerine-orange and brown. And the fine symbols were carved all around it as well.

I turned more toward the center of the spacious cavern and saw an altar. It was a high pillar of white, and the same symbols covering the whole thing. Upon the pillar rested a dark book into which was seeped the stink of corruption. It had pink leather covers adorned with dark-crimson writing in the same strange, crude language that I saw in Scorro and Veneiea. The letters were crudely fashioned into circular shapes, pierced by sharp lines.

In this place, it seemed as though time had been frozen, with everything barely moving. Although this place felt like a sanctuary, a place of refuge amidst the storm, and I didn’t want to disturb a single thing in here.

But then, out of the shadows themselves, something to my right caught my attention.

Upon a wooden stand there rested a suit of armor, not made of steel, but from overlapping plates of white bone, asymmetrically arranged to form a fearsome visage. Its left gauntlet boasted five long and sharp claws, stained in dark brown, and the shoulder pads were adorned with fused pieces of terrible fangs, claws and fractured skulls. The helm of the thing had twisted tusks coming out of its upper jaw and eye sockets that appeared to be burned out.

The floor beneath the armor was entirely clean, a smooth circle of level rock, inscribed with long, winding script written in white chalk. Though I wished to leave the book alone, the suit of armor called out to me, as if pleading me to don its form again.

A faint memory stirred within me. I recalled standing on a desolate field, beneath towering trees that were withered and grey, shrouded in a lifeless ash. I saw myself clad in the bone-armor, the gauntlet’s sharp claws marred in dark red in the dreary light.

I felt more than a mere compulsion to touch it again, and so I crossed the line drawn in chalk upon the ground.

But then came a rumbling from the tunnel’s entrance, and a fierce wind that battered against the outside walls of the caverns. The very earth shook beneath my feet, and a mighty shock ran through my body. The realm around me began to dissolve into shadow and distant memory, and I felt myself lifted upward towards the ceiling, all the while hearing the haunting call of my suit of armor.

With a violent shaking, the dream ended, and my senses slowly returned to me with a sharp force.

A voice was crying out.

It was Florencia who was shaking my shoulders, trying to rouse me from my meditation.

After I had come to, she explained that nearly two days had passed. I had sat there motionless in the pitch-black room, without eating, drinking or speaking. Her concern had grown so great that she felt compelled to awaken me, just to be safe.

It took some time to regain my composure, and I rose to my feet on shaky knees and stumbled forward. Florencia caught me, and I leaned upon her shoulder as she led me to our room.

Despite the exhaustion that weighed heavily upon me, I couldn’t shake the desire to return. I needed to take the armor for myself, and, if I dared, to pore over the book, and to examine every bone-trophy and trinket that was on display on the black-carved shelves.

After sleeping until sunrise, Florencia finally asked what had happened and what I had seen there.

I did my best to recount the experience to her. She sat herself down close beside me, so our hips touched, and now and then, she leaned against me for comfort. I couldn’t help but be taken by her scent, but this time it was different. There was something new about it.

It was not solely Florencia’s scent that I sensed, but the very essence of her, the brilliance of her spirit that I felt intimately. I felt my mind and attention slowly attune to her presence, and I could read her emotions without even trying to. And when I examined her skin and her hair and how she looked at me with suspicious eyes, I could almost perceive the rhythm of her lifeblood coursing through her veins. And when I observed her even more closely, I could almost notice the dance of the aetheric energies around her.

With only a pull of my finger, I could disturb the flow…

Florencia noticed how I fell silent, and her brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, and shifted herself away from me.

But I had not the heart to tell her the truth, nor did I have the right words to describe the change, and I cast my eyes down on the floor.

“I’m still weak. Everything seems odd. I’m sorry.”

“You’re lying to me. I don’t like it, but alright,” she said dryly, and with a hint of sadness showed in her eyes. But accepted my explanation.

*

“Jace came yesterday,” she said later, after we had some food and water. “He’s still shaken up, but he believed we would make a difference working for Pitties. Scorro should never happen again, he said.”

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Florencia looked relieved to have Jace with us.

“As you were… meditating,” she said, pronouncing the last word with an irritation. “I went and prepared everything for our departure. Jaxine and Iskander are already impatient, and ready to go.”

Even though I still felt raw, like scraped skin sensitive to even a gust of wind, I needed to get a move on as well. As time went on, the new perceptions became additional mental noise that was distracting, to say the least, and I wanted out of the city as fast as possible. So sharp were my new powers, that if I wanted to, I could read the vague emotions of the guards who were marching many hallways away, and even catch their stray thoughts.

And while it was interesting, the sheer amount of buzz I had to suppress was exhausting. I hoped I could get this new skill under control while travelling.

I wondered whether this was the way Goxhandar sensed the world.

“Let’s not waste time,” I said. “Let’s go. I grow tired of Sanermo. Let’s go to Veneiea.”

“Can you handle travel?” Florencia asked, her eyes crooked in suspicion. “It’s a week’s travel there, and another day to Caffria, if the weather holds up.”

“I’ll be alright.”

Florencia wanted to stay in Sanermo for another day or two, but agreed when I pushed back and asked to leave now. She went to tell the news to Jace, Iskander and Jaxine, who I sensed faintly through the walls.

I stayed behind, washed up and put ready my new equipment.

As I was lacing up my new chestnut-brown boots that were stiff and not broken in yet, Goxhandar stirred itself awake.

“Master! You journeyed back to the place whence you had come. Transformation has begun within you, a gradual unraveling of your abilities and powers. And you beheld your suit of armor there, in that bleak and cruel place. It is an artefact most powerful, for you had imbued it with great runes of warding and enchantments that reflect and enhance your very own power.”

“I saw it,” I told Goxhandar rather matter-of-factly.

“Let it not waste away in that withered realm. Learn to summon it here! If we are to hunt the Enemy, as the Golden One says, then your armor will benefit us greatly.”

“How can I do that?” I asked. “I want to touch it, to wear it again. How can I do it?”

“I do not know, master. In the same way that I do not know the magic through which you had summoned me here, in your realm. The answers are within you. Think back to what you did in Scorro.”

Goxhandar’s answer didn’t surprise me, and I planned on spending my nights figuring out the secret, on top of learning a mastery over my new capabilities.

*

Preparing everything didn’t take much time, and soon the five of us were standing in the midday sun, in a small courtyard outside of the Sanermo courthouse.

Jace, Iskander, and Jaxine busied themselves with their horses’ reins, packing in some more equipment and food, while Florencia and I lingered behind with Corso. The young man looked impeccable, this time wearing an expensive dark brown cape and a waist-height yellow doublet underneath it.

To ensure autonomy in traversing Lienor, Corso had secured horses for us from the royal stables, using Pitties’ Mark to do so, I presumed. Though Corso insisted the horses were unremarkable and reserved mainly for use by messengers and other bureaucrats, I was content with the horse I’d been given—Velluta.

And judging by the bright look in Florencia’s eyes, she was happy with hers as well, which was called Luminello, a mix of bright white and grey with long mane of brown. She had mentioned that she had never owned a horse before, even during the time with the Yasman Lodge. They always organized a carriage or some other means of transport. The few times she had ridden a horse, she had enjoyed the experience tremendously.

Velluta was a nice-looking horse, I thought. She had a rich chestnut-brown coat that glistened in the sunlight, and she stood regal and proud with a still, dark mane. Unlike the horse I had ridden to Estalarch, Velluta’s wild spirit resonated more with me, and I felt more hopeful this one would fit me better.

Then Corso focused his attention on Florencia and me, and said: “I’ve equipped your horse saddlery with a wide variety of equipment that I believe will benefit you on your travels.”

Then he leaned in close, looked to his left and his right, and said: “As well as a generous provision of funds for your endeavor.” He handed me a heavy leather pouch made of soft leather, roughly the size of a large apple.

“It is a rather substantial sum of coin,” he continued in a refined tone. I wondered if he ever had to sleep out in the wilderness, among the tree-roots and wake up covered in frost. “Cueno, argno and aurno, ten coins each. If used judiciously, this ought to suffice for several months, of which I’ve no doubt, having conversed with Miss Regalla. I implore you, Mr. Espian, to not squander it at once. One cannot predict when he—” referring to Pitties, “shall be available to replenish the coffers. So it should last for as long as possible.”

Florencia went white over Corso’s words, her eyes glued to the pouch I put away in my back pocket. It was heavy, weighing down the pocket, and made for an uncomfortable fit.

Then Corso’s expression turned sad.

“My best wishes to you all,” he said, but in a much more personal manner, having cut the official tone. “I sincerely hope for the utmost success in your mission. The lives of many could depend on the fruits of your labor… Or the tip of your sword.”

And now there were the five of us standing in a circle behind the Sanermo courthouse.

“Well. I know that this is all very sudden and strange. It is so for me as well. Nevertheless, I thank you for being here, but now is not the time to dwell on the past,” I said, thinking this was the time for some inspiring words and to make a clean start. “We must make for Veneiea and scour for any piece of information on Vranik. After that, we shall make our way to Caffria.”

“I’ve heard Caffria is gorgeous,” Jace mumbled.

Florencia took over.

“Yes,” she said matter-of-factly and took out a map of Lienor. “As I’ve said before, it’s a week’s travel to Veneiea, and from there, another day to get to Caffria. There are many places to sleep on the way, so I don’t think we’ll be spending our nights sleeping on the ground, but who knows?”

“Ugh!” Jaxine complained. “Let’s go. We’ve wasted so much time already.”

“We haven’t wasted a single day,” Florencia retorted.

“Yeah? Jonas spent two days alone in a dark room. What do you call that?” Jaxine went on.

“Jaxine,” said Iskander in his soothing tone, running his fingers through his wild, black hair. “Florencia already said we had to wait either way. To, what did you say, let things settle down?”

Florencia nodded and said: “To let Pitties finish with the Cappesand people.”

“See, Jaxine? But we really should be going. I don’t think we’re going to find much in Veneiea.”

“I think so too,” said Florencia and jumped atop Luminello. She then took the reins and guided her horse out of Sanermo and into the streets of Estalarch.

“So, what were you doing for those two days?” asked Iskander. “Florencia was running around, making everything ready, planning our route, and all that.”

“I needed to gather strength and my magic. I felt limited. Have you tried meditating? It helps balance yourself.”

Iskander let out a dismissive and grim laugh. “No, I’ve not. I’ve got no time for stupid things like that. Derakleon sometimes tried to tell me to calm down and think, but it never done me any good. I can never shut off my thoughts.”

“Couldn’t hurt to try,” I said, hoping to close off the topic, but Iskander mumbled something.

“Hmm, well considering what you did in Scorro, maybe you’re right…” he mumbled as we left Sanermo behind, and turned into the streets of the ancient capital.

Obviously, I would not reveal the full extent of my meditations, but I had to tell him something. And he was correct, hiding away for two days and letting Florencia prepare everything, when I was the one who Pitties entrusted, was not the smartest move.

“Why care about the opinions of others?” asked Goxhandar, voice in a strange half-slumber. “When you are reunited with your enchanted armor, you can withstand many attacks. You do not need the help of these lesser’s. Although… the Red one is feisty. I like her.”

“Because I think we are more powerful together.”