Vicky and Asher stood apart, the silence between them thick with unspoken words. Their gazes locked, each uncertain how to bridge the chasm that had grown between them. It was Brynn who broke the silence, her voice light but laced with curiosity. “Asher, aren’t you going to introduce me? It’s not every day a beautiful woman just appears in my training yard—especially one like her.”
As she spoke, the glowing runes beneath Vicky’s skin pulsed softly, a faint light that seemed almost alive, betraying the unease simmering beneath her composed exterior. Vicky’s sharp gaze flicked to Brynn. “I’m Vicky,” she said coolly. “I knew Asher before he…” Her voice caught for a moment, then steadied with a quiet edge. “…before he ended his own life and left his best friend—his partner—alone.”
Asher winced as though the words were a physical blow. His shoulders sagged, and the weight of her pain settled on him like a shroud. “That’s not fair, Vicky,” he said, his voice low and cracking. “I wasn’t in my right mind. You saw them. You saw what I saw. I didn’t know what else to do.” Tears welled in his eyes and began to trail down his cheeks, catching the faint glow of Vicky’s otherworldly runes—the same strange light that coursed beneath his own skin.
Vicky recoiled slightly at the rawness of his anguish, then softened. She knelt before him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know it hurts, Asher. That’s why you should’ve come to me. But what’s done is done,” she said, a rueful smile tugging at her lips. “Now look at the mess we’re both in.”
Asher closed his eyes and reached inward. Aetheros, he called out. Did you bring her here?
The reply was curt, almost indifferent. Yes.
That familiar rage stirred within him, bubbling beneath the surface like molten lava, threatening to overflow. Asher felt the aether quivering in his veins, his very bones seeming to hum with anticipation, as if it too yearned to be unleashed. He clenched his fists and forced the emotion down, breathing deeply to calm the storm within.
Aetheros, he said, his tone biting, why? Not only did you bring her here, but you changed her. What did you do? Is she… is she Sylvari like me?
No, Aetheros replied with calm precision. She remains human, but her connection to the aether is unprecedented. Her compatibility is unlike anything I’ve seen in millennia. The same essence that created this world—and now threatens to destroy it—runs through her more fluidly than through most of my creations.
Asher frowned, his frustration mounting. How is that even possible? He shook his head and exhaled sharply. And don’t ever do something like this again. You should’ve told her no. You should’ve kept her in her world.
That was no longer an option, Aetheros said, their tone cool but resolute. When she began prying into Aeloria using the remnants of aether left behind, it started to assimilate her. The fragments within her body were calling her back. Had I not intervened, the aether would have ejected itself from her completely. She would have died on the spot.
Asher’s anger faltered, giving way to reluctant understanding. He sighed, his lips twitching into a faint, bitter smile. “Of course. She got herself into this mess—like always.” A low, unexpected chuckle escaped him, a faint echo of the man he used to be.
“What’s so funny?” Vicky asked sharply, crossing her arms.
Asher turned to her, his smile widening despite himself. “Just that some things never change.” He shook his head, laughter still bubbling faintly in his throat. “You’re as stubborn as ever.”
Vicky narrowed her eyes. “And why do I feel like you’re having a whole argument without actually saying a word? You look insane, just standing there like you’re arguing with yourself.”
Asher rolled his eyes, sighing theatrically. “It’s complicated,” he muttered. Aetheros, can we not do this whole ‘only talking in my head’ thing? Everyone here already knows you exist.
There was a brief pause before Aetheros’s voice echoed through the training yard, resonant and powerful. Very well, Asher. A faint amusement tinged their tone as they continued, Hello, Brynn. Hello, Vicky. Welcome to my world, Vicky. It seems you are now tied to its fate as well.
Brynn raised an eyebrow, glancing between Asher and Vicky. “I’m starting to think you attract all the interesting women,” she said dryly, though there was a sharpness in her eyes as she studied Vicky’s glowing runes.
Vicky, however, was fixated on the disembodied voice. “That is Aetheros?” she asked, incredulous. Her unease was palpable, though she refused to let it show.
Aetheros chuckled, the sound reverberating through the space with a musical, almost taunting quality. Yes, Vicky. And now, like Asher, you are bound to this world’s struggle for survival. I suggest you prepare yourself. You’re going to need all the strength you can muster.
Brynn interjects , "alright Lirien made us dinner, lets head back to my house and eat supper and go to bed. the both of you will begin training with me tommorow. You both have alot to learn and I fear our time of peace here is growing short...I feel the shadows stiring deep in the gloamfields, I believe our first step to righting this world will begin here. with the two of you and enough training. maybe we can purify this place and use it as a foothold."
Asher responds quickly, "I agree, we need to create somewhere safe enough and this is as good a place as any. we cannot tally here for long but we can at least make this place safe for the citizens of this world"
Vicky nodded her head in agreement
The three made their way toward the cottage, an uneasy mix of anticipation and trepidation lingering in the air. The faint crunch of their steps on the packed earth seemed louder in the quiet, the tension between them a palpable weight. As they reached the door and stepped inside, they found Lirien bustling about, her graceful movements deliberate as she set the table. She turned at the sound of their entrance, her sharp gaze landing on Vicky. Her eyes widened, and her voice came out in a startled breath.
“Another one?” she asked, her attention fixed on Vicky. “Another Sylvari?”
Before anyone could respond, Aetheros’s voice filled the room, rich with amusement. “No, my child, just a strangely exceptional human.”
The suddenness of the voice made Lirien gasp and stumble back, her legs giving out as she fell to the floor. Her wide eyes darted upward, and she stammered, “Aetheros… my lady, I cannot believe you would grace us with your presence!”
Aetheros’s laugh reverberated through the room, warm yet tinged with an ancient weight. “You mortals never fail to amuse me,” she said. “But I must correct you, Lirien—I have been here the entire time. I’ve taken up residence within this man, and…” Her tone grew almost teasing as Asher’s skin began to glow faintly, “…it seems that arrangement is likely permanent.”
Asher’s brows knitted in confusion as he looked down at his faintly glowing hands. “Permanent? When exactly were you planning to tell me that, Aetheros? I don’t know how I feel about this.”
“Your feelings on the matter are irrelevant, Asher,” Aetheros replied smoothly, her tone unwavering. “It is simply the truth. When you channeled the Aether Vein into the lantern, our bond deepened irrevocably. And when Vicky arrived here, out of necessity, I was forced to bind us even further. The foundation had to be strong enough to allow her peculiar soul to tether itself to us as well.”
Asher sighed, running a hand through his hair as he processed the revelation.
“Of course. Because nothing in my life can ever just be simple.”
Vicky arched a brow, her glowing rune-lines pulsing faintly as she stepped forward. “Peculiar soul? Care to explain that one, Aetheros?”
Aetheros chuckled again, her voice resonating with an undeniable authority. “In due time, Vicky. You will come to understand. For now, suffice it to say, your presence here is far more than chance—or choice.”
Lirien, still kneeling, glanced between Asher and Vicky, her awe not entirely replaced by curiosity. “What have you two brought to my doorstep?” she murmured under her breath, shaking her head.
Asher met her gaze, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. “Honestly? I’m still figuring that out myself.”
The four sat at Brynns table eating a humble meal before heading off to bed, training was to begin in the morning and Asher and Vicky both suspected it would be a long couple of weeks.
The weeks blurred together as Vicky and Asher threw themselves into their training, learning to wield the volatile Aether coursing through their veins. Progress was slow, fraught with pain, and laced with danger. More than once, their inability to contain the raw energy led to violent eruptions, forcing Brynn and Lirien to channel emergency shields drawn from the lantern’s power to prevent catastrophe. The strain was palpable, but so was the determination.
Now, under the noonday sun, Asher and Vicky faced off in the training yard, their breaths steady but tense. Brynn and Lirien stood at the edges, watching closely. Brynn’s arms were folded, her sharp eyes narrowing as she observed every movement, while Lirien lingered nearby, ready to intervene if things spiraled out of control.
Asher stepped forward, his movements fluid, a calculated gleam in his eye. His dagger, gripped in his left hand, flicked forward in a feint, drawing Vicky’s attention. She darted to dodge, her body reacting to the strike she assumed was coming.
But Asher was already ahead of her. The moment her dodge began, he reached inward, pulling at the molten threads of Aether within his veins—veins that mirrored the deep Aether currents running through the mantle of Aeloria itself. The energy responded to his call, a golden-red flame taking form, crackling with controlled intensity. With a practiced push of his hand, the fire erupted from the ground at Vicky’s feet, a searing column that sent her staggering backward, just shy of the ring’s edge.
Vicky stumbled out of bounds, her loss sealed. “Dammit!” she hissed, her frustration boiling over as she dusted herself off. Her tone was sharp, tinged with a familiar edge of exasperation. “I can’t get my Aether to do that. It’s really fucking frustrating, Aetheros.”
Aetheros’s voice resonated across the yard, clear and calm, carrying an almost unearthly authority. “Patience, Vicky. We are focusing on fire, an element that aligns closely with Asher’s nature. His rage fuels his connection to its heat and power, giving him an advantage here. Do not despair. Your potential is immense. You may not see it yet, but I do—far more than you could ever know.”
Vicky’s glowing rune-lines pulsed faintly as she breathed deeply, forcing herself to temper her frustration. Across the ring, Asher offered her a small, apologetic grin, his flame already dissipating. She met his gaze, her determination reigniting. One loss wasn’t going to stop her. If Asher could master this, so could she.
" I want a rematch right now" Vicky proclaimed
Asher nodded
Brynn looked at both of them "Fine, but Vicky remember that you arent trying to kill him. don't let your pride make you do something you regret. You have alot of power inside of you , you need to be mindful
Vicky nodded
Brynn shouted "Begin!"
Vicky darted forward before Asher could react, her body a blur of motion. The volatile Aether within her surged, straining against the limits of her control, threatening to erupt unchecked. With a sheer force of will, she compressed it, bending the raw energy to her command. The power coiled within her like a living flame as she forced it downward, channeling it into her feet.
A burst of flaming air erupted beneath her, propelling her forward with such speed that she was nothing more than a streak of heat and motion to the mortal eye. The ground beneath her scorched with each step. Asher moved to dodge, his instincts honed, but not fast enough. Her shoulder clipped him just before he escaped, the impact like a battering ram, sending him careening out of the sparring ring.
He crashed into the training dummies on the far side of the yard, a cacophony of snapping wood and scattering straw echoing through the space. Equipment toppled and splintered, leaving Asher sprawled amid the wreckage, fifty feet from where he had stood.
From the chaos, Asher pushed himself to his feet, brushing debris from his shoulders. His lips quirked into a faint, sardonic grin. “She said don’t try to kill me.”
Vicky stood frozen, her glowing rune-lines dimming slightly as guilt flooded her expression. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice heavy with remorse. Her head dipped as she continued, “I didn’t mean to use that much. It’s just—it’s hard to control. I promise I’ll get better. Are you okay?”
Asher straightened, shaking off the last remnants of the collision. Despite the ache spreading through his shoulder, he gave her a wry smile. “I’ve been hit harder. But next time, maybe don’t aim to knock me into next week?”
Vicky chuckled weakly, the tension in her chest easing as she took a hesitant step closer. The intensity of her power still lingered in the air, a reminder of the line she had walked. She would learn control—but today, at least, the yard had survived her determination.
Brynn stepped forward, her expression stern but tempered with a hint of pride. “That was impressive, Vicky,” she said, her voice carrying both authority and caution. “But you came dangerously close to destroying Duskshade—and yourself. Please, be careful. The forces you both wield are what caused the Sundering and the ruin you see all around you. Never forget that.”
Vicky and Asher exchanged solemn glances, nodding in unison. The weight of her words hung heavy between them, the enormity of their power an unspoken burden.
Brynn’s gaze sharpened as she continued. “Now, we need to discuss our next steps.” Her tone grew grave, each word deliberate. “Your training has been brief, but you’ve both attained at least an advanced grasp of Aether fire. It will have to suffice because something has shifted.”
Lifting her hand with practiced grace, Brynn summoned a mirror of pure Aether into existence. It materialized with a brilliance that seemed to illuminate the entire training yard, its surface flawless and gleaming like liquid starlight. Asher and Vicky leaned closer as the mirror’s depths began to swirl, revealing a scene that sent a chill down their spines.
Through the luminous surface, a vast army came into view. It stretched far beyond the horizon, numbering in the thousands. Grotesque and twisted, the figures moved in a shambling, relentless tide. Corpses of beasts and men marched side by side with the distorted forms of Sylvari, Eryndar—the Frostborn—and Morvani—the Sea-Blessed. Each figure was a testament to something broken and wrong, an affront to life itself.
The image pulsed with a grim, otherworldly energy, and the air around the mirror grew heavier, as if the Aether itself recoiled from the sight.
“Where is this? How long do we have?” Asher’s voice cut through the oppressive silence, rising with urgency as his fists clenched at his sides. His eyes never left the monstrous horde, their marching figures etched into his mind like a nightmare brought to life.
Brynn’s expression darkened as she replied, “Not long. They march from the heart of the Gloamfield, and a mass of shadow deeper than night itself surrounds the Apex. I’ve never been able to glimpse what lies at its center, but it seems whatever dwells there did not take kindly to us repelling its last onslaught.”
Vicky frowned, her voice laced with urgency. “Are these creatures all being controlled by the corruption in the Aether veins?”
Brynn shook her head, her tone heavy with contemplation. “It’s not that simple. The corrupted Aether isn’t a living being, nor is it an embodiment of any singular will or personality. It acts on instinct, a shadowed mirror of purified Aether’s essence. It’s almost as if the two were created to balance each other. But when the Sundering occurred, the corruption seeped in, deep and insidious—a consequence of mortal greed and arrogance.”
She paused, her gaze hardening. “Anything the corruption touches becomes Veinforged, twisted into these abominations you see. But the true danger lies at the center of the Gloamfield. Whatever dwells there is not simply a manifestation of the corruption—it predates the Sundering itself. My guess is that it was once a forest dryad, a guardian of nature’s balance. Now, it’s something else entirely—something defiled beyond comprehension, its power warped into something unimaginable.”
Brynn turned her piercing eyes to Asher and Vicky. “Even with all your strength and the Aether at your command, it will take everything you have to face it—assuming the two of you can reach it through an army of thousands.” Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the challenge that lay ahead.
Asher's voice cut through the tension. “Are there any nearby settlements or allies we can call on? This isn’t just about Duskshade—it concerns all of the Gloamfield.”
Brynn nodded, her expression grave as she stepped closer. “There are two: Rivermaw to the south and Eryndale to the northwest. Very different peoples, but both are formidable allies if we can gain their aid.”
She hesitated before continuing, drawing a deep breath. “Eryndale is known as the Frost Ward Bastion. Nestled against the base of Frostclad Peak, where the frozen winds of the Emerald Tundra meet the mountain passes, it stands as a bulwark against the Gloamfield's incursions. The Eryndar—the Frostborn—are a people forged in ice and war. Their pale, frost-kissed skin and glowing blue eyes are marks of their bond to the Veins of ice, allowing them to wield Aether to forge weapons imbued with frost. Their leader, Jorven Icetide, is a battle-hardened strategist who values discipline above all else. He hates the corruption with an intensity that matches its cruelty.”
Brynn gestured southward. “Then there’s Rivermaw, the Tidebound Outpost. It straddles the Moonweave River, its settlement built partly on land and partly on floating platforms tethered to the banks. The Morvani—the Sea-Blessed—call it home. Their scaled skin shimmers like pearls, and their connection to the tides is unmatched. They wield water-infused Aether with remarkable precision, making them swift and adaptive warriors, especially effective against fire-wielding foes. Their leader, Captain Lysara Tidebreaker, is bold, resourceful, and utterly fearless, known for her daring tactics. Beside her is Kaelen Deepseer, the Tide Seer, whose communion with the river’s currents grants uncanny insights into enemy movements.”
Her tone turned somber as her gaze shifted back to Asher and Vicky. “Neither settlement will be easy to sway. Eryndale’s stoic pragmatism means they’ll demand evidence of a clear threat to their own survival before committing forces. Rivermaw, with its love of fluid tactics and adaptability, might question whether we can lead an effective alliance against such overwhelming odds. But if we can unite them, their combined strength will be invaluable.”
Asher's jaw tightened. “And if they refuse?”
Brynn didn’t flinch. “Then Duskshade faces the tide alone.”
The week in Duskshade was a whirlwind of urgency, with news spreading like wildfire through the small town. Townsfolk toiled day and night, constructing barricades that loomed with an imposing grandeur, their pointed tips glinting with crystallized Aether. These formidable defenses, towering up to 15 feet in height by the third and outermost row, astonished the group. Vicky’s uncanny mastery of Aether manipulation had left Brynn and Lirien grappling to understand its nature. Unlike their own abilities, which felt more elemental and raw, Vicky’s command over Aether transformed it with a fluid artistry, reshaping its essence into crystalline spears. None dared question this boon, for the stakes—tipped with radiant, translucent Aether—gleamed like frozen stars under the dim skies of Duskshade, their sharp points radiating an otherworldly light. They stood as silent sentinels, embodying both the beauty and lethality of their craft, a warning to any who might bring corruption to the village’s doorstep. These crystalline spears were more than mere defenses; they were a promise—to protect what remained untainted and to annihilate whatever dared to threaten it.
The town’s newfound vigor extended beyond the stakes. A deep moat encircled the village, its completion fueled by the relentless efforts of Asher and Vicky. Their bodies, now infused with Aether coursing through their veins, outmatched the strength of several men combined. They tore into the earth with a frenzied resolve, their muscles fueled by the energy within them, the glow of their efforts lighting the nights like ghostly flames. By the end of the fourth day, the moat was finished—a deep, circular trench waiting to serve as the village’s first line of defense.
It was then that Brynn, Asher, and Vicky gathered to perform a ritual of immense complexity and purpose, linking the moat directly to the lantern’s power. Asher, under the guidance of Aetheros, began the painstaking task of forming and guiding a conduit from the Aether Vein beneath the earth. With slow, deliberate coaxing, they shaped the raw energy into three distinct points at the moat’s base, forming a triangular configuration to ensure even distribution of the lantern’s protection. The process was grueling, requiring Asher to drive the conduit deep through the earth, forcing it past the mantle and cracking it open with a surge of raw will.
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As the first conduit breached the surface, a wave of radiant energy coursed through the ground. Vicky was ready, her hands alive with a brilliant glow as she transmuted the unleashed Aether into liquid form. The shimmering liquid pooled into the moat with an unearthly beauty, its surface glowing faintly like moonlight on water. This liquid Aether held a dual nature—soothing and inert to those with Aether already in their veins, yet molten fire to any creature steeped in corruption. The work was backbreaking, but Vicky and Asher persevered, their efforts fueled by determination and a glimmer of hope.
By the sixth day, the moat shimmered with the protective glow of liquid Aether, a barrier as beautiful as it was deadly. Duskshade’s defenses stood complete, a testament to the resolve of its people and the extraordinary powers that had begun to awaken within Asher and Vicky. The village now braced itself for whatever darkness lay ahead, its walls of wood, crystal, and liquid light standing as a beacon of defiance against the coming storm.Brynn’s cottage had become the heart of Duskshade’s transformation, its modest walls now a hub of strategy and hope as the village evolved from a meek hamlet into a bastion of defiance. Word of their resilience spread quickly, carried on the whispers of survival through the perilous Gloamfields. Wanderers and warriors, worn thin by the endless struggle against corruption, began to journey toward Duskshade. Some came driven by bravery, others by sheer necessity, but all arrived with a shared purpose—to stand together in humanity’s darkest hour.
For the first time in living memory, Duskshade had repelled a full assault from the shadows without suffering catastrophic losses. The town’s success sent ripples through the hearts of its people, planting the first fragile seeds of hope. For over four centuries, Sylvari defenders had fallen one by one, their lives sacrificed in lonely battles to protect the lands of Aeloria. Brynn herself had stood as one of six who once guarded these lands, and now, she alone remained. But something had shifted. They had stood their ground and emerged victorious—not unscathed, but unbeaten. Now, with Asher and Vicky lending their strength, hope no longer felt like a dream. To the hope-starved hearts of Duskshade, it was a deluge, drowning them in newfound resolve.
Asher, Brynn, Lirien, and Vicky gathered around the scarred wooden table in Brynn’s home, a crude map spread before them. Figurines and markings represented enemy movements, villages that had gone silent, and regions where scouts had vanished entirely. The weight of their task pressed down on the group as Asher broke the silence, his voice steady with a confidence he had earned over a turbulent week.
“We have 1,000 able-bodied men,” Asher began, his tone grim, the weight of their situation etched into his features. “Of those, maybe 200 could be called warriors, and only 300 are adequately armed. We don’t have the time or resources to forge weapons or bolster our supplies, so we’ll need to make every fighter count.”
He leaned over the crude map spread across the table, his finger tracing the village’s barricades as he outlined his plan. “To start, I’ll arrange our veteran soldiers evenly throughout the ranks—one for every five inexperienced fighters. They will serve as squad leaders, ensuring discipline and coordination among the troops. Each squad leader will report to one of four lieutenants, selected from the most highly trained and combat-ready among us. These lieutenants will each command a detachment of 200 men.”
Asher’s gaze hardened, his voice steady and deliberate. “That leaves us with 200 in reserve, held back to reinforce weak points or replace those on the front lines. The detachments will be positioned to cover the four cardinal directions, creating a perimeter that allows us to respond quickly to any breach. Duskshade must become an impenetrable fortress. We will not engage the enemy until they’ve managed to break through the great barrier, the moat, and the Aether-tipped stakes. These defenses should buy us precious time.”
He straightened, his eyes sweeping the room, the faint hum of Aether in his veins lending his presence an almost luminous intensity. “We’ll need to stockpile every scrap of food we can find to endure the siege. Once the fighting begins, my role will be to move between the lines, giving orders and supporting the defense wherever I’m needed. The moment we identify a concentrated advance, we’ll shift the detachments accordingly—but I will not leave our flanks vulnerable.”
He paused, letting his words settle over the room like the calm before a storm. “This is how we hold the line. If anyone has objections, speak now.”
The faint flicker of torchlight danced across the map, casting long shadows over the faces around him. The room remained silent, save for the steady, rhythmic pulse of determination that seemed to resonate from the very walls of Brynn’s cottage
Brynn Broke the silence , "Brynn frowned, her sharp eyes narrowing. “If the enemy hits us in force at a single point, those spread-out detachments won’t hold. We should consider stronger coverage for the most likely breach points.”
Asher met Brynn’s sharp gaze, his expression steady but thoughtful. “You’re right, Brynn,” he said, his tone measured. “If the enemy focuses all their strength on one front, a spread-out defense won’t hold for long. That’s why we’re keeping the 200 in reserve. They’ll be mobile, ready to reinforce any breach or bolster the lines where the enemy’s pressure is heaviest.”
He leaned over the map, tracing potential chokepoints with his finger. “We’re also not blind to where they’ll likely strike. The western barricade is our weakest point—it’s where the Veinforged have tested us before. I’ll position the most experienced veterans there to strengthen it. Scouts will patrol the other flanks, giving us warning if the enemy tries to outmaneuver us.”
Asher straightened, his voice firm. “But we can’t afford to concentrate our forces too early. If we commit too much to one point and they outflank us, we’re finished. The balance is in holding strong where they strike hardest while staying flexible enough to respond if they shift their attack. That’s what the reserves are for—and that’s why I’ll be moving between the lines.”
He looked around the room, his gaze landing back on Brynn. “I’ll need your eyes, though. If you see a better way to redistribute our forces once the fighting starts, I’ll trust your judgment. This plan will adapt as the situation demands.”
Vicky narrowed her eyes. “You’re planning to run all over the battlefield and fight? What happens if you’re pinned down or worse? Who gives orders then?”
Asher held Vicky’s gaze, his expression softening, though the weight of her words pressed heavy on his shoulders. “I know what’s at stake, Vicky,” he said quietly. “I know what happens if I fall. Aetheros is tied to me, and if I go, this fight doesn’t just get harder—it ends. That’s why I won’t let it happen.”
He straightened, his voice gaining strength. “But you know me. I can’t stand by and watch while others risk everything. I’ve learned to fight for more than just myself, and this isn’t just about me—it’s about all of us. If I can make the difference between holding the line and losing Duskshade, I’ll take that risk.”
Asher stepped closer to the table, his gaze sweeping over the map as if searching for the answers buried in its lines. “The lieutenants will have clear orders. If something does happen to me—and it won’t—they’ll know what to do. They’ll hold until you bring reinforcements. But I’m not planning to die, Vicky. Not today, not tomorrow. I’ll fight like hell to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
He glanced at her, his expression softening again. “You’re right to worry, but this is bigger than us. You need to trust me to hold the line while you do what you do best—convince Eryndale that we’re worth fighting for.”
He took a deep breath, the faint glow of Aether in his veins catching the dim light of the room. “I’ve made my choice, Vicky. I won’t fail. Not while I still have breath in my body.”
Lirien, who had been leaning against the wall silently observing the exchange, cleared her throat. “You know,” she said, a faint smirk tugging at her lips, “for someone with the world’s fate literally tied to his soul, you sure don’t have much of a self-preservation instinct, Asher.”
The corner of Asher’s mouth twitched upward, despite himself. “What can I say? I like to keep things exciting.”
Lirien chuckled, pushing off the wall to join them at the table. “Well, if you’re so determined to play hero, at least let me make you a bet. I’ll wager a week’s rations that Vicky brings back Eryndale’s finest frost-kissed warriors before you’ve even had time to break a sweat.”
Vicky raised an eyebrow, her tension easing slightly as she crossed her arms. “And what happens if I don’t?”
Lirien shrugged, her smirk growing as a playful light danced in her eyes. “Then you'll owe me a story—one of those wild, impossible ones from the world you two claim to come from. The kind that makes me wonder if you’re making it all up on the spot.” She shifted her gaze to Asher, her expression softening with a hint of curiosity. “And if you make it through this in one piece, maybe you’ll finally tell me where that insane rage of yours really comes from.”Her tone was teasing, but there was an edge of sincerity in her words, as if she’d been puzzling over the question for longer than she cared to admit. The room fell into a momentary lull, the flicker of torchlight casting shadows across their faces. Asher met her gaze with a faint, self-deprecating smile, his fingers idly tracing the edge of the map.
“That’s assuming I make it,” he said with a dry chuckle, though his voice carried the weight of someone who knew how close the edge truly was.
Vicky shot him a sharp look, her glowing runes flaring faintly. “Don’t even joke about that,” she snapped, but the corners of her mouth twitched as if she couldn’t quite suppress a smile.
Lirien raised her hands in mock surrender, her smirk widening again. “Hey, no need to get fiery about it. I’m just trying to lighten the mood before we all march to our probable doom.” Her gaze flicked back to Asher, her tone softening once more. “But seriously, if we do make it out of this... I want that story. No holding back.”The tension in the room eased, if only slightly, the gravity of their mission momentarily balanced by the fragile bonds of camaraderie and humor.
The tension in the room lightened, just a fraction, as Asher let out a small laugh. “Deal. But don’t get too comfortable, Lirien. If I survive, I’m putting you in charge of finding fresh rations.”
“Fair enough,” she said with a mock salute, her smirk softening into a genuine smile. “Now, can we get back to planning how not to die?”
Asher’s voice carried a quiet intensity as he continued, his gaze sweeping over the map spread before them. “The final part of our defense strategy involves preparing for the inevitable—when the barrier and moat fall. We can’t afford false hope. The enemy will break through, and when that happens, we need to be ready.”
He leaned forward, his finger tracing a series of markers on the map. “We’ll establish multiple fallback points staggered throughout the village. Each detachment will have a designated location to retreat to, creating layers of resistance to slow the enemy’s advance. The town square will be our final stronghold, the place where we make our last stand if it comes to that.”
Asher’s gaze hardened, his tone steely. “At each fallback point, anyone capable of using Aether—no matter their level of skill—must contribute to forming traps. We’re not dealing with ordinary enemies, so ordinary traps won’t cut it. The Veinforged will tear through wooden spikes and pit traps like they’re nothing. We’ll need creative solutions—Aether-bound snares, barriers, or anything else we can conjure to cripple or delay their forces. The goal isn’t just to survive but to bleed them for every inch they take.”
Straightening, Asher gestured toward a cluster of figures on the map. “Next, I’ll assemble a chain of messengers, selecting only our best scouts—those fast enough and skilled enough to navigate the chaos. Their role will be critical. They’ll relay my orders to detachments I can’t reach in time, ensuring the chain of command remains unbroken even in the heat of battle.”
He stepped back, his eyes scanning the faces of those gathered. “This plan isn’t about holding a single line—it’s about making them fight for every step they take, making them regret every inch they gain. We’ll force them to pay for their advance in blood and time. If we do this right, we won’t just survive—we’ll outlast them.”
Brynn broke the silence first, her sharp gaze scanning the map with a critical eye. She crossed her arms, nodding slowly. “I’ll admit, Asher, that’s a damn solid plan. You’ve accounted for the inevitability of failure without letting it define the fight. I don’t see any major gaps, but…” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing at the fallback points. “If I might suggest—some of these positions are a little too exposed. The fallback point here,” she tapped a marker near a cluster of homes on the outskirts, “could put the detachment at risk of being cut off. We’d do better to pull them closer to this junction—it’ll give them a better chance of regrouping and reinforce the defenses around the square.”
Asher nodded, making a note on the map. “Good catch. Adjusting that point makes sense. Anything else?”
Vicky leaned over the table, her glowing runes pulsing faintly as she studied the layout. “I have to say, Asher, I expected a few cracks I could poke at, but I’ve got nothing big to challenge here. The fallback structure is solid, and having scouts act as messengers is smart—we’ll need that flexibility when things go sideways. But…” She hesitated, her brow furrowing. “If we’re counting on traps to slow them down, we’ll need to prepare materials for them in advance—lots of Aether anchors, conduits, and anything else we can rig up quickly. We don’t want people scrambling to create snares in the middle of a retreat.”
Asher gave her a small smile. “Good point. I’ll add a team to stockpile materials and preconfigure some of the traps. That way, it’ll just be a matter of activating them in the field.”
Lirien, standing slightly apart from the others, finally spoke up, her voice thoughtful. “Honestly, I didn’t think I’d agree with something so... direct. But this plan’s got balance. We’re not committing too much to one strategy or underestimating what we’re up against.” She stepped closer, her finger brushing over the map as she continued. “I do think we’ll need to position the scouts carefully, though. If we lose one of the messengers—or if they can’t find the detachment in time—it could throw the whole chain into disarray.”
Asher nodded. “Agreed. I’ll make sure the scouts have clear routes to follow and backup runners in case something happens. Anything else?”
Brynn, Vicky, and Lirien exchanged glances before Brynn spoke, a rare smile tugging at her lips. “Honestly, Asher? I’m impressed. You’ve covered the big picture and the details, and you’re open to adjustments. I don’t think we could ask for a better plan given the circumstances.”
Vicky smirked, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “I’ll admit, it’s weird hearing a war strategy that doesn’t sound like complete chaos. You might just have this leadership thing figured out, Asher.”
Lirien shrugged, a wry grin crossing her face. “Let’s not inflate his ego too much—he’ll need his head clear when this all goes to hell.”
Asher chuckled softly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Noted. Let’s make sure this plan gives us the best chance to outlast whatever they throw at us.”
The group’s mood steadied, the shared confidence in their strategy giving them a brief but much-needed sense of unity. Despite the uncertainty ahead, for the first time, it felt like they had a fighting chance.
The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling heavily over them, the flicker of torchlight casting their determined faces into sharp relief.
Asher moved on to the final topic of this meeting , "If we’re to survive, we need the assistance of Eryndral and Rivermaw.”
“Vicky,” he continued, turning to her, “you’ll head to Eryndral. It’s a twos days journey if you push yourself. From what Brynn has told us, the Eryndar—the Frostborn—are forged in ice and war. You’ll need to show them your strength and convey the gravity of our plight. They must understand that this isn’t just our fight—it’s the end of the world as we know it.”
Brynn frowned, interrupting. “That's assuming you don’t run into Veinforged patrols. The Gloamfields are teeming with corruption, and no path to the north is ever straightforward. What if you’re delayed?”
Asher cuts in again , “We’ve faced worse than Veinforged patrols, and Vicky’s not exactly easy to catch. If we wait any longer, that army will be at our doorstep. Delays are a risk, but sitting here doing nothing is suicide.”
Brynn was silent
He shifted his gaze to Lirien, his voice softening slightly. “Lirien, you’ll go to Rivermaw. Stress the stakes; tell them we’re facing annihilation. You must convince their leaders, especially Captain Lysara Tidebreaker, to join us.”
Lirien’s brow furrowed. “And what if the tides shift while I’m on the river? Getting there might be harder than you think, let alone convincing them to help.”
Asher responded , “The tides are unpredictable, yes, but Lirien you are skilled scout and healer. you'll find a way, everyone lives depend on it. We don’t need perfection; we just need allies, and we’re out of other options.”
Doubt flickering in her eyes. Brynn, ever perceptive, sought to ease her fears. “When you confront Rivermaw’s leadership, I’ll summon a viewing mirror directly to the approaching enemy force. If we’re fortunate, the sight of that monstrosity will sway them. If not, at least we will have tried.”
Lirien frowned. “How will you know when it’s time?”
Brynn smiled faintly, pulling a small phylactery from the shelf. Inside, a vial of pure Aether pulsed with an almost imperceptible vibration. “Take this,” she said, handing it to Lirien. “When the moment comes, channel your Aether into the device and aim it toward me. It will activate its twin here, alerting me to begin the projection.”
As the plan took shape, Vicky’s expression grew tense. “Am I the only one hearing this?” she asked, her voice rising. “You and Brynn will be the only ones left here to fight. I’ll be gone for a at least 4 days and thats with the best case scenario, and even if I convince Eryndral, how can you hold out that long?”
Asher’s frown deepened. “You’re right. We may not survive that long. But we had no other choice. We used our time to fortify the village and arm our people as best we could. We can’t count on reinforcements, but we can’t win without them, either. The defenses we’ve built—the barriers, the moat—are strong, but this enemy will not stop. We need to root out its source.”
His tone grew resolute as he continued. “That’s why I’ll stay here. I’ll set the battle lines and fight on the front, drawing the enemy’s attention. When I unleash Aetheros’s power, I’m betting it’ll force the source to reveal itself. And when it comes for me, I’ll face it.”
Brynn shook her head, her voice skeptical. “That’s a lot of assumptions. What if it just sends its stronger beasts to kill you?”
“Then Aetheros and I will kill every last one until the source has no choice but to face me,” Asher replied, a wry smile tugging at his lips.
Aetheros’s voice hummed in the air, rich with ancient authority. “You are unusually optimistic, Champion.”
Asher sighed, rolling his eyes. “When did you start calling me that?”
“When you became worthy of the title,” Aetheros said, her tone shifting to one of grim determination. “I will fight with you, Asher. Together, we will purge this forest of corruption.”
Vicky’s voice broke the moment, trembling with emotion. “You’re all just… okay with this? Asher, you’re going to die! You’re one man, and I can’t lose you again—not after I just got you back.”
Asher’s gaze softened, his voice unwavering. “I won’t die, Vicky. I refuse to. I couldn’t save Delaney or Rachel—I was helpless then. But not now. The people of this town look to me. I see the hope in their eyes, and I won’t fail them. If I can’t face a corrupted being here, how can I hope to stand against the corrupted gods who still lurk in the shadows?”
The weight of his words fell heavily. Vicky, still processing, asked hesitantly, “Gods? Like Aetheros?”
“No, child,” Aetheros answered, her voice tinged with sorrow. “Not like me. These are gods fully consumed by corruption—Vorlath, the Betrayer, and Sylthara, the Veil. They have fallen to their most base instincts. They cannot be reasoned with. They must be destroyed.”
A heavy silence filled the room as the enormity of their battle crystallized.
Asher broke the silence, his voice firm and steady. “We don’t have all the answers, and we don’t have the time to find them. What we do have is each other, and the strength that’s been forged here in Duskshade. That has to be enough.”
The room was heavy with the weight of his words. Vicky crossed her arms, the glowing runes beneath her skin pulsing faintly, mirroring her inner turmoil. Brynn leaned back against the wall, her sharp gaze flitting between the two, calculating yet unyielding. Lirien, still clutching the phylactery, glanced nervously at the group, then back to the luminous Aether mirror that still displayed the advancing army.
Finally, Aetheros’s voice resonated softly, yet powerfully, through the room. “The first step toward reclaiming Aeloria begins here. Do not falter, my chosen. For what lies ahead will test the limits of your strength—and your very souls.”
The mirror’s image began to ripple, distorting as if the Aether itself rejected the weight of the scene it revealed. The last glimpse of the grotesque army dissolved into a shroud of black mist, leaving the room bathed in an uneasy, flickering light.
Brynn stepped forward, her voice cutting through the lingering silence. “The sun is setting, and tomorrow will be grueling for us all. Rest while you can. I’ll keep watch tonight.”
Reluctantly, the others nodded and began to disperse.
Asher lingered near the table, his hand trailing over the worn wood, eyes distant. Vicky hesitated at the doorway, glancing back at him.
“Asher,” she said softly, her voice catching. “Don’t let your stubbornness get you killed. I mean it.”
He looked up, a faint smile tugging at his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You know me, Vicky. Too stubborn to quit, too stupid to know when to stop.”
Her lips twitched into the barest hint of a smile before she turned and left, leaving him alone with the faint hum of the Aether Veins pulsing far below.
Outside, the village settled into uneasy quiet. The barricades loomed like shadowed sentinels against the encroaching night, their crystalline tips glinting faintly in the moonlight. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf’s mournful howl pierced the silence, a reminder of the wild, untamed danger that lay just beyond their fragile sanctuary.
Asher stepped outside, his eyes scanning the horizon. The shadows seemed deeper tonight, almost alive, and he swore he could feel them watching. He gripped the hilt of his blade, its weight both comforting and foreboding.
Tomorrow would bring blood and fire, but for tonight, the people of Duskshade clung to their hope, fragile though it was. Asher drew a long, steady breath and whispered to the darkness, “We’ll be ready.”