Flyte sat in the wagon, idly drawing, as per Ander's request. In this first section of the Rift Flyte's magic wouldn't be required, so he was supposed to take a break and prepare himself.

Ander seemed to think that drawing would be an excellent distraction for him. Never mind that Flyte could still hear the arrows fired at the shadowy birds or bats that kept swooping and the ghost hands that attempted to steal from them.

It was hard not to help when he knew that he could.

Still, Ander was right, and Flyte would just have to make do with that.

It did help that despite being closer to the most dangerous place in Riftgard, this area was calmer than the desert outside.

The spindler-snappers and sand sharks had both stopped showing up once the group crossed the Rift's threshold, and the sun was somehow less bright and hot inside as well.

This allowed for the group to sleep once more, despite their previous assumptions.

Flyte couldn't help but feel like that relief was temporary.

That being said, relief was relief and Flyte wasn't someone to squander sleep.

Soon, Flyte's absentminded drawing was finished, and he looked down to see what he had drawn, as he had subconsciously done it.

On the paper was a winged eye, its immense size towering over a chasm as a person, who looked an awful lot like Will, was being transformed into some nightmarish fiend.

'That's strange, I've never seen anything like this, so I shouldn't be picturing this image subconsciously either.'

Flyte laid back, thinking about how bad his mental state must be for him to draw something so grotesque.

'Perhaps these aren't my own thoughts though. Lylian became the oracle of Kev through her prowess in light magic and her connection to demons, so maybe I'm the same, only with spirits instead of demons.'

But if Flyte was an oracle, what did the drawing mean?

'Maybe I should test this out.'

Flyte flipped the paper and breathed in deeply, trying to lose concentration. It was difficult, but hearing the bows as their arrows were fired helped him to lose focus.

He wrote on the page this time, looking for a message rather than a picture.

Flyte only got six words back.

"Rush is leading the scourge here."

"If you hear of Rush, make sure you hush," Flyte quoted.

'Does that mean that I should stop talking?' Flyte quickly discarded the idea. 'The prophesy specifically mentioned hearing the name, and that part wouldn't be affected by the rhyme scheme either. I need that advise later, but still, I can't help but be scared reading this.'

Flyte had heard of the scourge a few times, most notably during Ontin's history of Nareal. 'To hear that that hoard has a leader is a little bit terrifying.'

'What have I gotten us into?'

Flyte looked around for Hahlow only to remember that he had sent a letter just the day before. Flyte would have to wait at least a week before he could sent the news to Ontin.

"Shades!" Flyte exclaimed.

'If the scourge is headed here, the army might be in even more danger that Ander knows.'

Flyte burst out of the wagon and scanned the skies for something threatening. Anything at all.

"Flyte," Ander called out. "Are you alright?"

"Not really, Ander," Flyte answered, showing his friend the note. "I think we might be in danger."

Ander studied the paper, flipping it over a few times. "Where did you get this and what is the scourge?"

"The scourge is an army of powerful rift dwellers, and while focused on my inability to help out, I drew the picture and wrote the message absentmindedly."

"So, you did this?" Ander asked, his brow furrowed. "Why do you think we're in danger then?"

"It might sound a little bit crazy," Flyte started. "But I think I might be an oracle."

"That does sound a bit crazy," Ander said. "Wanna talk about it?"

"We don't have time!" Flyte exclaimed. Ander raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, okay. After I drew the picture, I was confused and remembered that Lylian became an oracle through her skills in light magic and I thought that maybe I shared the same gift, so I tested it with writing and got that message."

Ander exhaled thoughtfully. "Maybe you just need sleep," he offered weakly.

"Why can't you just believe me?" Flyte asked, exasperated.

"It's not that I can't believe you," Ander said. "It's that I really don't want to. I'm already dealing with so many struggles and issues and I don't think that I can handle adding a powerful being, whose very name is enough that I should be silent, to the list."

Suddenly, Ander seemed less infallible and more human to Flyte.

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"It's alright Ander," Flyte said. "I'll rest on it."

"Thank you," Ander said.

Flyte walked back into the wagon and laid down, staring straight up. He just couldn't fall asleep, no matter how long he tried. The message just didn't sit right with him.

"Nelar," he said.  

----------------------------------------

The 3rd plane was, as per the usual, very bright. Flyte set out to look for his spirit friends immediately.

As Flyte drifted along, he marveled at the view. The 3rd plane seemed to mirror Riftgard except that everything had a different color. The desert expanse looked mostly the same, but the sand was clear and sparkling, almost like diamonds, instead of light tan.

"Glow," Flyte called out. "Rowlo. Star. Honorious. Are any of you around?"

"I am," Star hummed. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you could tell me anything about Rush."

Star was very still for a moment. "Wait, who did you ask me about?" she hummed as she came to. "I think I blacked out for a moment."

"You can do that?" Flyte asked.

"I guess so," Star hummed.

"Anyway," Flyte started. "I was asking about Rush."

Star stilled again, but this time when she regained her senses, she seemed woozy. "Ooh, I haven't had a headache for a very long time," she hummed. "What is it that you want to know?"

"It was nothing," Flyte said, catching on. "Can you show me where the strongest spirit you know of is?"

"Are you thinking of cheating on us?" Star asked.

"No!" Flyte exclaimed, then paused. "Wait, is that how it works?"

"Not at all, I was joking," Flyte said. "Follow me, I'll show you to him."

Flyte followed Star until she stopped in a fertile field. "Okay," she hummed. "Go straight up from here and you'll eventually meet him, but it'll be a while, so move fast."

"I can go straight up?" Flyte asked.

"Sure, you just have to imagine moving," Star hummed. "There's no gravity here, so that's how you've been walking this whole time."

"Oh," Flyte said, feeling a little foolish. "I'll see you soon."

"See you soon," Star hummed, smiling.

Flyte was off flying through the beautifully purple sky. The sun was a gentle blue in this plane and the stars were, quite simply, striking.

Soon, Flyte made it to a large field of rocks. Their arrangement was similar to that of a glass sphere dropped on a hard surface.

"Hello," a voice shouted enthusiastically. "What do you seek here in the corpse of Nareal?"

Flyte had seen speed spirits before, and while those were fast enough to just be blurs in his vision, this spirit was on a completely different level. The spirit was so fast that it could and was forming the shape and details of the body of a young boy, whose age was maybe fourteen years old, with his afterimage. This impossibly fast movement produced wind-like shockwaves throughout several miles.

"Hello spirit," Flyte bowed. "I came to ask you a question."

"I want none of your politeness," the spirit shouted, its afterimage moving around to look as though it were the one speaking. "Can't you see that I'm just a child. And my name is Raloth."

"Alright Raloth," Flyte smiled. "I was wondering what you could tell me about Rush."

"Wow," Raloth shouted. "Our first meeting and you're already asking about my least favorite being."

Before Flyte could apologize, Raloth continued. "Rush is a veran, the same species as the Allfather, and is about as strong as him."

"That's right," Flyte questioned.

"That's right," Raloth shouted. "You humans call him Aliran. I was taught most of the things I know by spirits, so in this, we don't relate."

"Anyway," Raloth continued. "Rush embodies the Rift and the horrors within it. While Draav might have dealt the final blow to Nareal, Rush had corrupted his mind into doing so. because of that Veran's meddling, my home is reduced to this." Raloth emphasized his last point by stretching out his afterimage's hands as his shockwaves spread out to shake the entire expanse.

"What would it mean if you were told that he was sending his armies to fight you, then?" Flyte asked.

"That he hasn't escaped his prison," Raloth shouted. "Otherwise, you would already be dead."

Flyte gulped, fear jumping into his heart.

"But," Raloth continued. "It would also mean that he fears what you can do."

"Raloth," Flyte started. "Can you tell me your story?"

Raloth side eyed him. "Fine," he somehow quietly shouted. "But only because you are friends with Ontin."

"Right before Draav destroyed Nareal," Raloth began. "Ontin warned a few of us to escape, and although few listened, me and some others did. We used a gate to travel to Riftgard, where Aliran stood fighting Rush. As Draav burned, and ultimately blew up, my home world, Ralna, the veran of dragons, lost consciousness and plummeted to the ground alongside Aliran."

"Aliran managed to trap Rush in the very Rift that he tried to advance," Raloth continued. "But he had exhausted his strength. He split himself into ten honorsouls, one for each magic that he dominated. While most of these positions were already chosen, two weren't. Wind and Speeds. Ontin became the honorsoul of speeds, and Albrek, a dalmenian, was chosen as the honorsoul of the wind."

Raloth's afterimage formed a snarl. "With the loss of their leader, the scourge attacks a colony of humans from a third world. It was likely in revenge, as their world was able to destroy the scourge invasion before they could get a foothold. These humans; however, weren't prepared to fight and nearly all of them were slaughtered."

"One of the few to escape the initial wave of the scourge killed me, the son of Grall and nephew of Ontin, a member of the royal line, in fear and took my sword. Now my spirit is bound to his blade, waiting to be released."

"Wow," Flyte said. "That's way worse than I thought it would be."

"Things often are worse than they seem," Raloth shouted quietly. "Everyone has more on their plate than anyone else can see. Now, you're out of questions for today. Tell Ontin that I'm watching over him when you next see him."

Flyte was ousted out of the 3rd plane, like salt in a salt shaker, as Raloth shook everything around him.

----------------------------------------

Flyte jolted back into consciousness. It was no longer day, and almost everyone was asleep other than the people keeping watch at the perimeter.

Flyte walked over to where Yuri was seated. "Hey Yuri," he said. "Can I swap you out?"

"Aren't you supposed to be resting?" Yuri asked, confused.

"I've rested for hours," Flyte started. "And I've been wanting to help out for longer. Can I please just take over for your watch?"

Yuri considered it for a moment and then sighed. "Fine, but make sure that nothing gets in."

"Got it" Flyte said.

Flyte sat down, practicing his knife throwing on the monsters that entered his sight. He was still quite good at it.

He began to ponder over the spirit contract. If he could empower his spells by increasing their toll on his body, maybe he could weaken his spells to maximize his efficiency.

'I'll test that out next time I need to use spells.'

A monster landed in front of Flyte, but it wasn't a hand, and it certainly wasn't a bird. This monster was just like the chitinous one inside the chasm test that Telin gave him.

It reached out with a hand to grab Flyte only to have that same hand chopped off by an outside source.

Flyte looked over and saw a man whose left arm was cut off below the elbow. In his right arm, the man carried what looked like a cleaver attached to a staff.

The man quickly decapitated the monster then cleaned off his blade before sheathing it on his back.

"Hello," he said amiably. "How are you doing?"

"Good," Flyte answered. "But that's likely thanks to you. My name's Flyte, what's yours?"

"The name's Myllin," he said. "I've been going around looking for someone, but I can't seem to find them."

"Would you tell me who it is that you're looking for?" Flyte asked.

"Sure," Myllin answered. "I want to ask a man named Telin some questions." Flyte grimaced. "I take it you know where he is?"

"Yeah," Flyte said. "Though I'd rather not deal with him."

'I ought to take what I can get though.'

"Here," Flyte said, pulling out the message. "If you promise to give this to him, I'll tell you where he is."

"I promise," Myllin bowed, taking the message. "Where can I find him?"

"He's in a cave complex in one of Kili's mountains," Flyte responded.

"Thank you," Myllin said. After bowing again, the man hopped away with all the agility of a frog.

With that out of the way, Flyte finished his watch, picked up all of his knives, and swapped out with Elliot.

Then slept.