The Rift was significantly easier to traverse without hordes of monsters in the way, so the group was quickly and steadily approaching the final section of the it, Atula's Scar.

Flyte found it somewhat unnerving. There was a mist to the air that made it seem like a very high roof had been set far above the swirling, ashen sands on which the army walked, with only one pinprick of light, the sun, poking through. The enshrouded desert was silent, save for the rhythmic beat of the soldiers' march.

There was almost certainly some sort of trap or trick in store for the army at the end of their journey, as not even Will would be unwise enough to command all of his defenders to leave.

There would be a vast army awaiting them.

In recognition of that, the seekers of light left all of their non-fighters at Ahken. The reasoning behind this move was that it would be nice for them to have a sturdy wall between themselves and oblivion. It also didn't hurt that the citizens would not dare to attack the large group after such a tragic rift break.

Quite honestly, Flyte was scared as to what would come. He, Ander, and Elliot had planned to chase down Will and remove him as a threat, but were they ready?

Were there any possible consequences the group missed? Any roadblocks to stop them?

And finally, what would come after this?

Flyte tore into these questions, scrambling for some answers, but as of yet, his ponderings were in vain. Nonetheless, he couldn't find any issues with continuing to look.

Ander wanted Flyte to come up with a strategy for this upcoming fight. That meant that he would need to know of any obstacles in the army's path and which advantages they could leverage, as well as how far they could.

He had been given topographic maps of Atula's Scar to plan out the best angles of attack, but despite an hour of pouring over it, he had only come up with a few decent ones and no way to narrow them down further.

And there could be no overestimation of any details, and certainly no underestimation. The best results would come by using every tool with perfect precision.

"Flyte?" Ferris's voice called out behind him. "You look a little stressed, are you alright?"

Flyte forced a smile. "Yes," he lied.

That earned him a look. "Honestly Flyte," Ferris said. "You really don't have to be so concerned about this so much. Aiming so harshly for perfection is a tried-and-true path to failure. 'Perfect' doesn't really exist, so why not settle for 'pretty good?'"

"I guess that's fair," Flyte answered. "Thanks."

Flyte looked back to his maps for a moment.

"Do you mind if I look and see what you have so far?"

"Not at all," Flyte said as he pulled a nearby chair closer.

Flyte pointed out a few locations on the map. "These are the places I've narrowed our approach down to. They have the highest elevations and aren't on the other side of the chasm, so it should be harder for ranged opponents to whittle us down from there."

Ferris pointed to a seemingly random point on the map. "How about here?"

"Why there?" Flyte asked. "Sure, it has a hill, but we'd lose so much height starting off there."

"The battle doesn't start when the fighting does, and the hills you pointed out would require our troops to climb strenuously before fighting. Not only that, but we'll have to invade too, meaning we'd have to charge down those steep hills, whereas this one here has a shallower incline both ways."

"Finally," Ferris added. "If we do end up needing to retreat, going along the sides of this flatter hill would be much easier than reversing along the steeper ones."

"That's really good," Flyte exclaimed. "Why am I the one doing this?"

"Eh, Ander likes to make sure that everyone in his army could take charge in his absence. Naturally, that includes you too." Ferris chuckled. "After enough bad strategies, he generally starts weighing in and explaining to you how to better approach different problems."

"On another note," Ferris began. "Have you considered flanking?"

Flyte shook his head to the idea. "The enemy's numbers are unknown, but the precedent is that they'll be extensive, and we don't have too many fighters. Any group sent to flank will be torn apart as the enemy will simply split focus on their fronts."

"Good, but how do you plan to deal with the enemy if their armies dwarf ours so vastly?"

"We use the landscape," Flyte started. "As you said yourself, some of the hills are too steep to climb up quickly. We can use that and light magic to funnel in Will's army and break their size advantage."

"We'll want to lean into heavy use of the seekers. Will uses shades and rift monsters to fight, so spreading out so many reliable light mages should help us clear them easily."

"Good work!" Ferris congratulated. "Do you have anything else to add to this plan?"

"Elliot, Ander, and I should group together and prepare a trap," Flyte added. "Will knows and hates us, so he'll likely focus on us, alongside Thalreion. If we prepare a trap, we can take on whatever he sends out way more easily, and he'll be unable to pick us off quickly."

"Sounds good to me," Ferris said. "I think you're done here. I'll give Ander your plan if you want to socialize with the others before we arrive."

"I'd love to," Flyte said. "Thanks for everything, Ferris."

"Of course," Ferris said before turning and walking away.

Flyte meandered about, looking for his newly masked friend. The only problem with that was that the group had gotten large and diverse enough to make it hard to find any specific person, especially while they were all marching along.

It wasn't such a big problem though, considering Flyte's spirit summoning capabilities.

"Hey, Honorious," Flyte called out. "Can you help me find Elliot?"

The small bird that was Honorious's corporeal spirit popped out of Flyte's back.

"Of course," he exhaled. "Just give me one moment."

Honorious disappeared, only to show back up less than a minute later.

"Okay," Honorious exhaled. "Follow me."

He flew away slowly, so as to not leave Flyte behind.

"So," Honorious exhaled. "How have you been?"

"It's been stressful," Flyte admitted. "But we've at least solved Elliot's big problem. I'm just worried about Will now."

"Which is completely reasonable," Honorious noted. "It has been a tough couple months for you three, and he hasn't helped at all. After this, I really do hope you can find some break from it all."

"Thank you," Flyte said. "Especially for being there for Elliot."

"I'd never abandon him," Honorious exhaled. "I swore that when I met him, all alone, orphaned by a magic mishap. I guess that means I'm here for you too." He chuckled.

"Well, whatever your reasons, I'm glad to have you here," Flyte said.

"You're very welcome to my help," Honorious perched on Flyte's shoulder. "Speaking of which, we're here, so I'll be on my way."

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Thanks for leading the way," Flyte said. "We'll talk later?"

"Of course," Honorious exhaled happily. "Before I go, perhaps this might alleviate your worries over Will. There's not a single spirit that I've met that wouldn't want to help you with that shadebringer, so feel free to make a summoning rune with no specific spirit in mind. It seems like we all also hate Aliran's natural enemy too."

"Sounds like a good idea," Flyte said. "I'll do that."

Honorious nodded as he disappeared, and just beyond where he was walked Elliot.

Elliot was speaking with Nefti and Hieday, likely over what life would be like now that he had a mask to wear permanently.

"Flyte!" Nefti called out. "Come on over, we were just talking about you."

Or not.

"I hope it wasn't anything too bad," Flyte quipped.

"Not at all," Nefti clarified, not taking Flyte's words too seriously. "Elliot was just telling us about how you became a Dark Guilder."

"Well," Flyte started. "I wouldn't necessarily call myself a guilder. Maybe a victim of kidnapping?" He suddenly remembered who his audience was. "Shades, sorry for saying that, it was a little insensitive."

"Nonsense," Hieday said sympathetically. Nefti's posture implied the same feeling. "There's no reason for you to apologize for the truth; we're fairly certain that's exactly what happened to you."

"Still..." Flyte continued.

"You worry too much," Nefti said, no anger or pain in his voice. "We've both had plenty of our own slip-ups in conversations, if you could even count your words as such. It doesn't really matter. If you don't mind it though, could you tell us what happened after you were stabbed? Elliot only got that far into the story."

"Oh, sure," Flyte prepared himself; he hadn't talked about the subject with anyone, to be honest. "After I was stabbed, I came to terms with death. The acts I had just gone through with Elliot and Adner were truly good deeds, and that seemed like a fine time to end, well, my own time here."

"And it did, my time that is. But then it didn't, I guess." Flyte paused. "Telin and his guild saved my life, but because of that, I was theirs, at least in his eyes. Telin's weapon to sharpen. My skills did improve vastly under his teaching, but it all felt moot without the call of freedom."

Nefti and Hieday listened on with rapt attention, quiet and patient as Flyte continued. "I eventually earned enough of his trust to go on a trip to Ithiles, where a Dalmenian saved my life and showed me the Seal of Nareal and gave me some advice on his way out."

Hieday spoke up first. "Who was this Dalmenian? Did he call himself 'Albreck?'"

"No," Flyte answered. "He said his name was Grall."

Hieday paled slightly while Elliot exclaimed: "Grall! But that's the shade-thing Ander fought!"

Nefti put his hand on Elliot's shoulder. "Can you describe what he looked like?"

"Well, I was far away, but I guess I could try to remember some details." Elliot though in silence. "He was huge, maybe eight feet tall, but he was broadly muscled too. His body was covered in grayish chitin, and he had tentacles growing out of a stub below one of his elbows." Elliot thought a second longer. "He was winged, too. Other than that, I've got nothing."

"That sounds like a wraith to me," Nefti said. "Watch out for this shadebringer. It sounds like he has the Scourge's attention."

"It's a good thing we're tagging along," Hieday agreed. "We have a lot of experience with this sort of thing. On another note, how did Grall turn back if he really was a wraith before meeting Flyte."

"It was his sword," Ander said, walking up from behind. "Whenever I landed a blow on him, his sword lit up, cracking his chitin and freeing his mind more."

"That would do it," Hieday chuckled humorlessly. "Of course he'd be one of the few to cheat death."

"So," Nefti began, slyly drawing attention from his wife's comment. "What happened next?"

"We nearly died fighting shades," Flyte answered. "Telin was gated in, and nearly killed my trying to force me to go back with him. I managed to catch him off guard and use the seal. He left as Ontin got there."

"And you were fine training under him?" Hieday asked.

"Yes," Flyte smiled. "I probably trained more intensely under Ontin than under Telin, but that was never the issue. I was able to choose to with Ontin's guidance, and that made all the difference."

"I can see it," Nefti said. "Say, I hear you are many friends with some spirits? Do you want to try to carve a mask and some representation of your own spirit? You're open to as well, Ander."

"Sounds awesome," Flyte said enthusiastically, before turning to face Ander.

"I'm fine," Ander said. "But by all means, go ahead."

Flyte nodded, taking a needle and a mask base. Trying out the mask on himself, he found that it fit him well.

Flyte closed his eyes. Focusing on the needle, he exhaled. Flyte felt a part of himself connect to the needle, like when he enchanted, and allowed a connection to form.

Flyte opened his eyes to see that the needle was now glowing with a bright white light, most strong at its tip.

"So," Flyte started. "I thought only people cursed by the Scourge wore these."

"I believe I said people who the Scourge had taken a part of," Nefti chuckled. "Look around, you're native to this world aren't you? Attuned, yet a chunk of it has been ripped out by Rush. The Rift isn't a naturally formation, believe it or not. That being said, it's not necessarily true that the Scourge has taken something from everyone masked. For almost everyone wearing one of these masks, that is the case, but there exceptions, including certain tribes of fire demonborn."

"Oh, I didn't even know about that," Flyte said. He felt the unmade mask with the attuned needle.

The needle scratched the strangely tough material easily. Stranger still was the guiding feeling Flyte got from the needle.

"Nefti," Flyte began. "Didn't you say that I wouldn't be guided in a pattern?"

"You shouldn't be," Hieday said. "I've never seen it happen. Still and spots you might be guided to would already have been carved if you weren't guided, so the most we're in for is a timelier surprise."

"Okay," Flyte said. He was nervous, but he kept carving.

Flyte's mask was finished much more quickly than Elliot's, due to the needle's guidance. Its image held a light rune, three lines intersecting to form a six-pronged star, but the border was the outline of a similar star, and the whole thing was filled with lines and swirls that had no obvious sequence.

'Just what could that image mean?'

The mask exploded in brilliance, glorious streams of light pouring out of its face as the Rift's shadowy fog burst away in tatters, cowering before the mask's luminance.

"What," Flyte started, needing a few moments before he could continue. "What's all that?"

"Interesting," Hieday stated.

"Is that a sigil?" Nefti asked no one in particular. "I've never seen one of those on a mask before."

"What does it mean?" Elliot asked.

Lebrandt, who had made his way over while Flyte was carving, spoke up. "It is immutable evidence that Flyte is geerht enaide. More specifically, he is the honorsoul of light."

"What?" Flyte said quietly. "That's not even possible. Honorsouls are supposed to be nearly immortal, but I've nearly died so many times even if you're just looking at the last two months."

"That doesn't really change anything," Lebrandt said. "It's been postulated that during the early stages of becoming an honorsoul, while Aliran's soul hasn't been fully assimilated, the young honorsoul is just as vulnerable as others of their race."

"But aren't they supposed to be super strong, at least just magic-wise?" Flyte asked.

Lebrandt chuckled. "Can you please tell us how long you've spent learning magic, or maybe knife throwing? How about drawing runes for your spirit friends?"

"About two months," Flyte said quietly.

Hieday whistled as Lebrandt continued.

"Surely you mean for each." Flyte was sure the man was smiling under his mask.

"No," Flyte said. His face felt hot, almost like he was embarrassed, but that didn't make so much sense. Why would anyone be embarrassed for achieving such great achievements in so short a time? "I've been learning to do all of those during these last two months."

"Huh?" Ander's jaw seemed to drop. "I thought... Magic at least seems like something you've been learning for much longer. Years even. Two months?"

"Almost three," Flyte conceded.

Elliot was walking along, but the news seemed to be too much for him all at once, so he didn't add his voice to the conversation.

"Well, if I'm supposed to be the honorsoul of light," Flyte said skeptically. "Then who was the last one?"

"Honestly," Lebrandt said, unamused. "You really should know this one. Ithilles, the Lightbringer was the last honorsoul of light."

"Okay," Nefti said. "Give the boy a break on that one. Ithilles did die three hundred years ago."

"Yeah," Flyte agreed. "Surely there was another one in that amount of time."

"Why are trying so hard to prove to everyone that you're not an honorsoul?" Ander asked.

Flyte sighed lowly. "I just don't this to change how you and Elliot treat me."

"It won't," Ander laughed. "Unless you really wanted it to, that is."

"Thank you," Flyte cleared his throat. "Anyways, Lebrandt?"

Lebrandt swallowed. "Yeah, you were the honorsoul during that time."

"Surely not all three hundred years," Flyte argued. "There's no way half elves mature that slowly."

"Trust me when I say it was the whole time," Lebrandt said, his voice becoming solemn. "You, Flyte Tenner, are the son of Ithilles Tenner, the Lightbringer. The day of your birth was the very same day your father died, as you likely know. What you could not have known, though, is that the scourge was still quite active in those days."

"They saw your father's death as an opportunity. Thousands of them, including some of their strongest, chased your mother, Solenia Lieth by birth, across the known world. Ontin, who was one of your dad's closest friends, did the most he could to help, even slowing time passing for you so drastically that your body is nineteen instead of three hundred. because of this slowing, Solenia was able to run much more easily, as she didn't have to worry as much about food, crying, and other constraints."

"In the end, the scourge did catch up to her," Lebrandt's voice echoed with deep pain, as though he felt responsible for it all. "Albrek, the honorsoul of winds, managed to make it to the scene in time to save you, but by then, your mother was long gone. After counseling amongst ourselves, us honorsouls, honorbound, and paladins decided that I would be the best fit to be your guardian."

"I guess you lost sight of me quick then, yeah," Flyte stated.

"Never," Lebrandt said, voice full of emotion. "You were never lost to me."

He pulled off his mask, marked simply by the rune of light. Under it was...Lebrandt. Well, of course it was Lebrandt, but it was the very same Lebrandt that had raised Flyte since his youth. His adoptive father.

"I just gave you some time to truly live."

"I really should have caught on sooner," Flyte said, a few tears welling up. "You didn't even change your name."

"I'm so sorry," Lebrandt's posture drooped. "It was never my intention for you to feel anything but love at home. I guess you were all I had left of Ithilles and Solenia, and you kept getting into so many dangerous situations. I just couldn't keep up anymore, and I got to be overprotective. It really didn't help that I could see more of them in you every passing day."

Flyte walked over and hugged him. "It's okay, I understand now."

"I truly am sorry to interrupt, mighty honorsoul," Ander smiled devilishly as Flyte sent him a withering look. "But we've arrived."

"Wait," Elliot said, motioning off to the distance. "What is that?"

Over where he pointed was a huge, pitch-black sphere, blotting out the sun despite being high in the sky.

And then it looked at Elliot.