An orange blanket of a late afternoon sun had settled over the city of pastel-colored buildings, and a chilly breeze blew messy locks of black hair into the young man’s eyes. He shivered, unsure if it was the cold or the sight of a massive dark scar, surrounded by tempestuous clouds, that ran from high in the sky to somewhere behind the Shattered Tooth Mountains. Ben’s mind failed to justify what his eyes saw; it was as if a deranged artist had torn a line from a canvas that depicted the majesty of jagged peaks near a picturesque port city. The Tear seemed to steal all light it touched, and as he stared, he began to feel a pull toward the offense to nature.

“It had grown, creeping, in size for the past month. The convergence is near,” the blonde-haired Keeper spoke as she stood beside the tall, young man. “People have been migrating to where they believe they will be safe, so you’ll find the city increasingly less occupied over the next few weeks.”

Ben turned from the scar in the sky to speak to Ann. “What does this mean?”

“The Champions of the Dark will walk the land once more. Scriptures speak of the Convergence as the end of days, a time when the weave will be destroyed, and the Divine realm will become one with Aetheria.”

“So, the end of the world is coming?” Ben asked.

“In a sense, yes. In practice, no. The world won’t be so much destroyed as changed. However, all life will be cleansed from the land in the process.”

The young man considered the Keeper’s words as she stood calmly, unaffected by the nip in the air. His newly found desire to leave all conflict and danger to escape to a peaceful paradise in the countryside was dashed.

I wonder if Dee felt this way too. Ah, but she had already begun a life before the apocalypse came calling.

“That sounds serious,” he said as he felt an indiscernible weight shift within him. “Where does the Herald or Harbinger fit into all of this?”

Ann turned her soft blue eyes to meet his. “That is for you to decide, my Champion. In my vision-” Ben and Ann turned to face the source of a loud crash from within the townhouse. She shrugged and continued. “I saw two opposing figures. Their bearing and personalities were contrastingly different, yet similar; it was as if they mirrored each other’s actions, yet with subtle differences in the most pivotal of moments,” she spoke in a low, quiet voice. “One grew to be a great General and a Leader of men. The other was a deadly, powerful Master of combat.”

“There were two of the… Candidates?”

The short woman blinked and furrowed her brows. “Where did you hear that word, darling?” Her expression betrayed her sweet tone.

Right. I didn’t tell her about Dee.

Ben recalled the promise he had made to himself earlier in the wreckage of the room.

Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose.

“Yeah, we haven’t really had much time to talk. A fair bit happened before… the incident two months ago.”

Ann gestured to the balcony’s entrance, and the pair went inside to escape the chilly air.

“So… Miss Blackwood?” he asked.

Ann smiled as they walked along the short passageway. “That’s me.”

“Annastacia Blackwood?”

The blonde woman’s smile faltered for a heartbeat. “Ann is fine, my heart.”

Okay… another time, then.

The pair approached the ruined room to find that Kieran had removed all the broken bed's remains and shattered glass. The handsome man was on his hands and knees with a rag and a bucket of dirty water, scrubbing a particularly dark stain on the wooden floor.

“He’s very particular when it comes to cleanliness,” Ann whispered to Ben.

The young man could only nod in reply as he was taken aback by the sheer speed at which Kieran had emptied the room of the wreckage. The Keeper cleared her throat, and the red-haired man turned to face the pair; a grimace was plastered to his face.

“Kieran, will you be dining with your aunt this evening?”

Kieran looked toward the offensive stain and back to the woman with what Ben interpreted as an expression that spoke of great inner turmoil. “Uh, I have to go see Master Durrene first, but yes. I will join you tonight.” He looked up at Ben. “If you wouldn’t mind, my mentor would be grateful for your visit to the temple. He has dedicated his life to the research of your people after all… once you’ve settled, of course.”

“Yeah, of course. I actually came to this city to learn from him myself,” Ben replied.

The handsome man averted his deep black eyes, and the grimace was replaced by lips drawn in a line. “It’s ironic, you know. The man spent his entire existence in the pursuit of unraveling the mysteries of the Old World… and now, on his deathbed, he has the chance to meet you. Fate is cruel, it seems.”

Silence occupied the space between the trio for a few heartbeats before Kieran attacked the stain with renewed vigor and spoke: “So, please. If you could make time for the old man, it would mean a lot to me.”

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“I will, Kieran,” Ben promised.

Ann touched his elbow and handed him a waterskin, which he accepted gratefully. The effects of the numbing draught had not yet worn off, and the young man had forgotten entirely about his thirst.

“You need to eat, my heart. Shall we go and meet with the Red Maiden? She’ll no doubt be wanting to see you, and we can continue our conversation as we walk.”

“All right, let’s go,” he turned to the man scrubbing the floor, “be seeing you.”

Kieran paused, and his eye’s lit up as he tilted his head toward Ben. “Be seeing you? Is that an Old World expression? Seeing you. See you later? Be seeing you later. I get it!” he beamed.

Ben bobbed his head awkwardly at the bronze-skinned man’s blabbering. Ann chuckled and led him out, down creaking stairs and into the street.

The sky had begun to darken into a captivating hue of orange and purple. Its beauty was only marred by the looming Tear in the sky. The pair walked down relatively empty cobbled streets and passed several pale, stone buildings that he would have thought to have been shops. Their windows were boarded, and signs were missing. A pair of guards in dull-grey armor passed them and respectfully nodded at the blonde woman.

Ben told Ann of his meetings with the first Herald and his experience floating in the void, assaulted by memories that weren’t his. The vivid recollection of waking in a steel capsule after his memories had been restored to a degree by his Avatar. Though Ben wasn’t quite sure how the entity had taken a fragment of his first Wielder’s soul and then sacrificed it to aid him, He explained the events to the Keeper nonetheless. He took the time to describe Dee’s features and armor in great detail at the request of Ann and, shortly after, found the woman to be deep in thought.

“It’s a good omen,” she said.

“What is?”

“You’ve been contacted by the First Harbinger, and from your description of her, it only strengthens your claim.”

The pair approached the newly painted red entrance to Red Maiden’s Trinkets and Baubles and stopped.

“Well, I mean, it was only a fragment of Deidre. Not the real one, if I understood correctly, and I’m not so sure she, or it, was acting independently. It could’ve been that the Avatar just used that form to communicate with me. I don’t know.” He paused. “Hey, so to answer your question from earlier, she called me a Candidate,” Ben said with open palms, inviting the Keeper to elaborate on the point.

Ann huffed, and Ben squinted as he had never seen Ann react in such a manner.

“I don’t believe you are a Candidate. You are the Herald, my heart. I know this to be true.”

Seems like she won’t budge on this. Better leave it as is for now.

Another thought struck Ben, which he had meant to confront since waking up in Moonvale.

“Ann,” he said in a tone that spoke of resolve. “If we’re to get ready for whatever is coming, I want to be as prepared and informed as I can.”

The Keeper’s eyes brightened, and she smiled with a nod for him to continue.

“About these headache-inducing Gods-” Ben began as the door to the cluttered store swung open and crashed against the pale pink stone of the building’s outer wall.

“Benjamin-fucking-Bones.” A deep, mature rasp came from a fit, old short woman with grey hair tied in a neat high bun. She wore a loose white tunic, black leather trousers, and knee-high boots. A black eyepatch covered her missing eye.

“Ainsle,” Ben breathed. His heart felt lighter as he saw his mentor and companion. He smiled at the sight of her familiar mocking grin.

“Well? Don’t just bloody stand there.” She folded her arms and tapped her boot against the highest of three stone steps leading into the shop.

He approached the woman and ducked to evade a beautiful hook that sang in the air with the precision that would make any martial artist weep. He stepped into her guard and wrapped his arms around her lean, muscled shoulders to hug the woman. Her head leaned against his chest as she returned the embrace and chuckled.

“Not bad, lover boy.”

He let go and stood back to regard the woman. “You came. Back then. How did you know where to find us?”

Ainsle’s eye smiled, and her grin grew even more mocking.

“Shit, that was ages ago,” she said after letting out a whistle. “Ol’ Ain couldn’t get her beauty sleep with all that damned ruckus you two made.” Her brow furrowed slightly, and her grin dipped into a grimace for a heartbeat. “That place is like a bloody maze, though,” she muttered before she gestured with a thumb behind her. “Come on in. Bertie’s out of town for the week.”

The pair followed the Berserker into the dimly lit store. The sheer chaos of clutter assaulted the young man’s eyes, yet he was glad it was more or less the same as he had remembered. To Ben's surprise, they climbed the creaking staircase and were greeted by a clean and orderly storage floor with a demarcated sleeping area cordoned off by long curtains attached to steel rings on a roof beam. Ainsle led them to a clean table near an inviting fireplace that lit the room with a comfortable orange glow.

The trio sat at the table, and Ainsle served them a generous helping of venison, potatoes, and firm bread. Ann filled wooden mugs with a sweet, honeyed drink, the aroma of which immediately set off an alarm in Ben’s head.

At least I have a Keeper to deal with the hangover.

The trio shared a hearty meal, and Ben recounted the events, including the interaction with Dee and his Avatar in his domain. Ainsle remained quiet during his telling and only interjected with questions relating to the Councilor’s fighting style and the abilities he employed. At Ann's insistence, he spoke of Jor’s betrayal, yet he decided that he wouldn’t mention her mental state until he had time to process the incident and formulate an opinion of his own.

“The cunt’s gonna get what’s coming. I’m telling you,” Ainsle huffed and took a swig of her mug. “He filled that poor girl’s head with all that bullshit, and now look what she went and did,” she sighed.

Ben nodded silently, and Ann frowned.

“So… the Tear,” Ben said to change the subject.

“Yeah, Ol’ Ain said it. Shit’s been going sideways for a while now, and folks only react when there’s a bloody hole in the sky.” Her eye lit up, and her grin returned as she seemed to recall something. “Oh, right. We put together a little present for you. This too, from old boy” She leaned over to a nearby shelf and tossed a fist-sized leather pouch at the young man. It clinked with a heavy thud on the table. “For the staff.”

“From Bertram?” Ben asked, and Ainsle nodded.

“Well, I gave some to little Kieran for putting up with you, but the bugger wouldn’t accept it. Bertie’s holding on to the money for him.”

Ainsle stood and walked over to the curtained area, and as she parted the fabric, Ben glimpsed a set of pure white plate armor on a mannequin next to a low bed. Ainsle returned, carrying a comically large, elongated chest on her shoulder. Ben thought the chest was as long as he was tall. She set it down softly on the floor next to the table, and the wooden boards groaned under its ridiculous weight.

Yup. She’s still scary.

Ben shivered as he had just watched the diminutive woman carry the worryingly heavy box as if it weighed nothing.

“So, sunshine here had a dream,” the Berserker said in a low rasp as she wiggled her brow at the Keeper, whose cheeks were red from the mead, before turning back to Ben. “I’m guessing she didn’t tell you about it. Anyways, open the bloody thing up. You might find something familiar in there.”