John didn’t claim to understand politics like those that let corporations rule Sylverdol or caused Sovaria to close its doors to the outside world, but he understood Soventh. Soventh was always an active war zone, divided among militant groups and radical tribes. It was rich in minerals, flora, and fauna—one of the wealthiest countries in terms of natural resources—but constant conflict and shifts in power made it a volatile land. The Sylverdol government kept good terms with whichever faction controlled the oil-rich areas. After all, Soventh was the only land where the oil that powered the world’s energy could be mined.
Wars had been fought over Soventh’s land. Eventually, militia groups split from their countries, holding the oil hostage until a fragile coalition of tribes and factions governed the region.
Now, two weeks after the cookout, John and Crystal found themselves in Soventh. Crystal fit in well enough with the security detail. John, with his intimidating presence, didn’t mind either. As the only woman in the group, Crystal naturally found the scientists more comfortable around her. Richard, ever the friendly type, had tried to greet her with an enthusiastic handshake on their first meeting, but John noticed Crystal stiffen. Guardians, knowing the necessity of physical touch in magic, had developed an appreciation for personal space. Crystal had clasped her hands together in a formal Guardian greeting instead. Richard looked momentarily confused but quickly returned the gesture. John shot Crystal a questioning glance, but she shook her head, moving on without explanation. She understood people better than he did and usually worked well with everyone. Better not to dwell on it, he thought.
After the initial awkwardness, Crystal got along well with the three men, joking as they transferred equipment from the plane to the waiting convoy. The air was thick and humid, drenching them in sweat almost immediately. They were miles away from the nearest city, surrounded by jungle where a makeshift landing strip had been cleared.
As they drove down the man-made dirt path, John settled back into the vehicle’s seat. Crystal, beside him, gazed out in awe, marveling at the jungle. She had never been to Soventh before, spending most of her military years on the desolate coasts of Telakor or the tropical islands of Kolarin. By the time the Sylverdol military brought her back, John had already been dishonorably discharged from his one and only tour in Soventh. Crystal had never questioned it, only once saying, “That report seems far-fetched, but I still trust you to have my back.”
John smiled as Crystal eagerly pointed out a small animal darting between the trees. Richard and the others followed in the vehicle behind them. The land here brought back nothing but dark memories for John, especially with the Sylverdol military's involvement. The Nexus had been all for this trip, smoothing things over so Crystal could take leave. The only problem was they wanted John far away from Soventh—and from anything that might trigger his return to violence.
Hours passed as they wound their way through overgrown terrain, the dirt road disappearing into thick jungle at times. They pushed forward, carving a path when necessary, until the towering mountains loomed ahead. As the day ended, the scarlights dimmed, leaving only the twin moons for light. John grew uneasy when the drivers turned on their high-powered beams. Unannounced light in Soventh’s wilds could draw the wrong kind of attention—curious mercenaries or worse. He gripped his rifle, glancing at Crystal, who was alert, her feline eyes glowing in the dark.
“We’re close,” Crystal said, leaning out the window and sniffing the air. The drivers exchanged brief words in the native tongue before rounding a bend. A distant yellow glow came into view, revealing the camp at the base of the mountain. Rows of lights led into a massive opening in the rock, where tracks and rails indicated an active dig site. Around the camp were a mix of structures—some made of stone, others rotting wood, hastily repurposed for the team of scientists and security.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
John helped unload the crates, scanning the camp. It was a makeshift operation, with gasoline generators humming in the distance and security forces milling around. The local protection had clearly been hired for the job, their rough emblems sewn onto ragged clothing. Everything looked portable and temporary—this wasn’t a long-term setup. Whatever they were looking for would either be carried out quickly or would require establishing a more permanent relationship with the locals.
John’s unease deepened. Why had he agreed to this? Richard clapped him on the shoulder, oblivious. “Thanks again for doing this, brother,” he said with a grin.
John forced a smile. “Sure thing. I got you.”
Richard waved over a man—Nigel—who approached from across the camp. John took a step back and his breath caught in his throat. Nigel had no face. He wore a pristine, tailor-made suit, his gray hair slicked back, and yet where there should have been eyes, a nose, and a mouth, there was only smooth skin. John’s hand instinctively shifted toward his rifle, but he didn’t raise it.
“Micah is at the dig site,” Nigel said, the words coming from nowhere, as if he had a mouth hidden beneath the skin. “He should return in a few hours.”
Richard groaned, clearly disappointed. “I was hoping to introduce him to my new friend,” he said, motioning toward John.
John stood dumbstruck. Crystal approached, dropping her crate beside him. She looked from John to Nigel, then back to John, but her face remained neutral. She didn’t seem to notice anything unusual.
John’s pulse raced. Was he going crazy?
Richard introduced Nigel with a smile, and as they shook hands, John struggled to focus. He half-listened as Richard made small talk, but his mind kept drifting to Nigel’s faceless form. Ask him about his face, said the voice in his head. It’s the quickest way to get an answer.
But John said nothing. How could he? How would anyone trust him if he started talking about faceless men?
Crystal turned to John as they followed Nigel to their quarters. “Did anything seem off about Nigel?” she asked.
“You didn’t see it?” John replied, incredulous. “He doesn’t have a face.”
Crystal stared at him, confused. “John, are you trying to mess with me? He seemed fine.”
“I’m serious,” John insisted. “No eyes, no nose—nothing.”
Crystal cursed under her breath but didn’t push further. “That’s disconcerting. Maybe it’s magic, then.” She shook her head as they entered the barracks.
Sarah, one of the scientists, greeted them as they unpacked. She wore a lab coat over clothes that seemed just as out of place as Nigel’s suit. “Let me show you your rooms,” she said cheerfully, leading them upstairs.
As they settled into their rooms, Crystal casually asked, “What’s your role here, Sarah?”
Sarah lowered her eyes, suddenly bashful. “I help study some of the artifacts. I’m working with Micah on something important—a globe or orb. He’s been trying to find it for a long time.”
“What’s so special about a globe?” Crystal asked, sitting on her bed and dropping her gear.
Sarah hesitated, then explained, “It’s connected to ancient magic. The kind that hasn’t been used in centuries.”
Crystal’s eyes narrowed. “Atlans? That’s just a fairy tale.”
“Magic used to be stronger,” Sarah said adamantly. “It wasn’t so limited to individuals. People could control the magic in the world around them. Atlans was real. I’ve seen it.”
John looked at Crystal, who shrugged, amused. “I’m not saying I believe it, but I wouldn’t dismiss anything too quickly in a world like ours,” Crystal said, turning back to Sarah.
As they prepared to meet the rest of the team, John couldn't shake his unease. Something wasn’t right, even beyond harmless but faceless men. Crystal tried to reassure him, but her expression showed that even she was starting to worry.