Lyra and her party had finally reached Legalios City in Gearford, where Sly requested to contact some of her Locksmith associates from the Legalios Guild.

“I'm sorry, Sly, but we haven't been able to reach anyone for the past few days.” The curly mousy haired receptionist told her.

“Days?” Sly repeated. “You haven't heard from anyone, Marci? Not Reilly or Earl? Perhaps, Ginny, maybe?”

“N-No, I'm sorry,” Marci stumbled. Bowing apologetically. “The beacon towers have been down, so the connection is even more spotty than usual.”

“Connection?” Lyra questioned. “What's wrong with the beacon?”

Marci cleared her throat. “Well, some travelers that had been passing through witnessed a Rift, and a hoard of Fiends seemed to have been attracted to it, which is an odd behavior for them.”

Sly and Lyra didn't need to look at each other to understand why they were acting oddly.

“So, that's why we cannot send Locksmiths out to get rid of them or call in from another guild. Our usual local Locksmiths, like Earl, Ginny, and Reilly, went on another mission but haven't reported back yet.”

“What was the mission?” Sly asked.

“Yeah, and where are the military, too? They've been roaming around in their big tanks. I was sure I'd see them soon as we entered the city.”

“To answer your questions, they were assigned to head toward Featherwynd in Ravens Country. We received a message from the town, but when we tried to contact them, there was no reply.”

“As for the military,” She continued. “They passed by here a day after our local Locksmiths left. I told them that there may be trouble since they hadn't contacted me in a day or so, but they proclaimed it wasn't their prerogative.”

Lyra sucked her teeth. Of course, they did. When they want to be in the know, they're like flies, but you need them and can't find one in spitting distance.

“May I ask what the message the people of Featherwynd sent? We just left Ravens Country.”

“Oh, yes, give me one sec…” Her fingers clicked away at the keys. “URGENT: Requesting assistance to Featherwynd– People are getting sick and expressing lethargic symptoms. Locksmith and, or Custodian, preferred.”

“And that was all left,” she finished, then looked at them. “I'm sorry I can't provide much more than that.”

“Custodians, huh?” Sly questioned. “You won't find many of those around here, except the Valerian Republic or Crystalline City. What lethargic sickness could query for a Custodian they only–”

She paused. Both Sly and Lyra were thinking the same thing. The man back at the lighthouse displayed lethargic movements until he went berserk. Would it be possible they were related?

“Thank you for your assistance. You can also put us on the case as a rescue party.”

“Will can do! But, um, I'm afraid I'll need you to fill out some paperwork. I'm sorry, it's a standard issue from the military.”

It wouldn't be the last if I roll my eyes one more time. Lyra angrily thought.

“Go meet outside with the others and tell them what's going on,” Sly said, sensing Lyra’s agitation. “I'll finish things off here.”

Lyra nodded. It was the best course of action.

“Oh. I almost forgot,” Marci added. “By chance, if you have a big enough party, do you suppose they could assist with that?”

“I think we can help with that, too.” Lyra told her. They were only Fiends and Veilspawn, Stronger or not, but nothing they couldn't handle. They had someone who could defeat them and someone to close the Rift.

Lyra left the guild, where the others had found a bench near a clock tower. Tierney and Aurora were eating Ice Cream, and Lyra had a newspaper to her nose. Neither Malakyh nor Alivier could be found.

“Oh, Lyra! Look what I have!” Aurora exclaimed, holding up her strawberry-sprinkled ice cream. “Cassandra bought it for us!”

“Careful not to spill it now. It's already starting to melt in this heat.” Cassandra looked away from reading to tell her.

Lyra smiled. “Thanks.” Taking a seat by her on the bench. “And where pray tell are the others? Alivier has a habit of skirting off but always finds his way back, like a lost puppy. Malakyh is a different story.”

Cassandra sighed. She looked extra tired thinking about the incident. “Don't get me started on those two. Alivier said something snippy to Malakyh, who was fuming. I yelled at them both for trying to make a scene. Then, I told them to walk it off. They should have returned by now.”

“Good grief. Now I kind of regret not having him in Riftblade again. At least I can keep track of him, and he can't make a fuss.”

Cassandra nodded. “Agreed. So, what happened in there?”

Remembering what she came to tell the group. She reiterated that Locksmiths, including the local locksmiths, were unreachable, and they were also Sly’s friends. Then, told her that the mission they were sent on was one in Ravens Country, Featherwynd.

“And get this: the message talks about a lethargic sickness spreading through with Fiends mucking about it. They requested both Locksmith and Custodians.”

That had Cassandra frown and put the newspaper down.

“Custodians? Why them…” She paused, catching on quickly. “Wait, you don't mean… Like what that lighthouse keeper had?”

“I wouldn't be surprised. Sly is filling out Papers the military requested we do now.” She rolled her eyes. “But I thought one group could check out taking out the beacon towers; Fiends is lurking about, and a Rift; why I wanted Malakyh and Alivier here. While the other group goes to Featherwynd and help out there.”

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

Cassandra hummed. “Should we really separate that much? We don't know what this lethargic sickness is like and having Malakyh and Alivier on a team together is a recipe for disaster.”

“Maybe, but I figured if you and Alivier cover the beacons, you can get rid of the Fiends easily and ensure Alivier doesn't act up. While Sly, Malakyh, and I head to Featherwynd. Malakyh used to be a Custodian, and if we need his Strega abilities, that will work out.”

“When you put it like that…” her eyes trailed over to where Aurora and Tierney were by the statue, reading the plaque on it.

Lyra knew what she was thinking even before saying it.

Lyra sighed. “As much as I hate it, they have shown they can handle themselves sometimes. We can't leave them alone for many reasons. So, taking them with us is the best plausible course of action.”

As much as Cassandra hated that idea, it was the only solution.

“Fine. But first, we should find those two.”

“Don't tell me they're missing.” Sly approached them. “Did they say where they were going?”

Cassandra shook her head. “Only that they both went for a walk after almost getting into it.”

“We don't have time for this,” Lyra sighed. “Legalios is just as big as Troér. How are we going to pinpoint exactly where they are?”

Having heard their conversation when she approached, Tierney stepped forward.

“Maybe I can help?” they turned their attention to her. “I know I can find them. Let me help.” More so to Cassandra than anyone.

“Fine. We are under a time constraint, but if you feel exhausted, you stop.”

Tierney bobbed her head and concentrated.

Legalios came to her mind. It was similar in likeness to Troér from the metal and cobblestone walkways. There were tram cars that Collected passengers from here and there. There weren't as many people, but still, drones of people walked the streets in their petticoats and trousers.

Tierney scanned the crowds of faces, searching for familiar faces. It wasn't until she saw a mesh of blonde and fair skin that she took notice of Alivier in front of a tavern where a group of military men surrounded him.

Tierney pulled herself from the vision.

Concern washed over Cassandra’s face with a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I couldn't locate Malakyh, but I found Alivier. It looks like two guards harass him in front of a tavern.”

Lyra snorted. “Of course he is. I don't know who to blame more out of them. Come on, let's go find him before anything happens.”

The group found their way through Legalios Metal City until they found the tavern. Three military men were at the scene with Alivier.

Lyra recognized one of them right away.

“You have got to be kidding me– You, again?!”

A blonde-haired military man looked up and heard a familiar voice. He had a purplish bruise on his fair skin and a bandage along his nose. His toothy grin was replaced with a crestfallen expression.

Julian Ashcroft.

“Why am I not surprised to bump into you.”

Lyra stepped forward first, her hands on her hips, glaring down at Julian. The young soldier stepped backward, and his two subordinates followed suit, seeing how their fellow soldier was wary of the Locksmith.

“Sir ” one of the soldiers said. Waiting for confirmation on what to do.

“Sir? Either you got a promotion–unlikely–or someone crazy put you in charge, or you filled newbie soldiers' heads to think you're top dog. Am I getting warm?”

“Sh-shut up! I won't stand for this. I can probably report to you now that the military is in charge now.”

Lyra pursed her lips together. “Yeah, I doubt that by how much you're stammering. Look, I didn't come to give you another black eye or busted nose. Just stop messing with our friend here and you can be on your way.”

Hearing that, Julian's expression reddened having been embarrassed in front of his subordinates.

“S-stay back. I mean it!”

From the holster on his side, he produced a long-nosed, short pistol. It was different from the usual manufactured one. It was sleeved in chrome, with a brown and gold tint, and had a large orb on the side that glistened in the sunlight.

To add to the severity of the issue, proving it was not a normal weapon, the two soldiers panicked, even one saying, “That’s a classified weapon! We aren't supposed to reveal it to the public!” Seeing that he had done something incredibly Stupid, Julian started shaking, and his cheeks heated red.

“I suggest you put that weapon away, soldier.” Sly stepped forward, protectively standing in front of Lyra. “You can’t hurt any of us or a civilian who is unarmed, mind you, and I'm sure you don't want that.”

Taking in the severity and Sly’s words, Julian shakily placed the weapon back. He didn't say anything—only glared in Lyra’s direction—and turned away. His soldiers followed behind him down the street.

Sly sighed heavily. “We really need to work on your communication skills.”

Lyra frowned. “Wait, how is this my fault? He pulled out that strange, looking gun thing, and I'm at fault.”

“You did provoke him, Lyra.” Cassandra clarified. “We all know he's spineless, but to pick at that kind of person is asking for it.”

Lyra balked at the confirmation. “Seriously, Cassandra? Whose side are you on?”

“Never mind that. Let's get Alivier off the streets. He looks piss poor drunk…and unconscious.”

Helping Sly lift him, they took him to a room at an inn to properly sober him.

“That just leaves Malakyh now,” Cassandra said. “And I'm not too comfortable letting Tierney try that again.”

They stood in the middle of the inn's room. An old-style room with cream-colored walls, a red carpet with gold linings, and two beds with cloth-made sheets. Tierney and Aurora sat on the wood-cushioned chairs in the corner of the room.

“Agreed.” Sly nodded. “And that's if he can even be seen like that. His ability as a Strega and a Primal Weaver might have given him the power to conceal himself from being seen.”

Lyra hummed. “So, that just means we have to be sleuth smart then. Where would someone like him go after being patronized by a Lichtkrieger who constantly blames your entire lineage?” Man, that is a mouthful I never would have thought to say.

“Well…” Cassandra thought for a moment. “If that were me, I would question myself and my faith. Perhaps even my role in society.”

Lyra and Sly looked at her. They could see conflicting highlights in the features of her wrinkled expression and the sadness in her eyes. She might have been able to push through physically, but mentally– she was still fighting.

“Cassandra….” Lyra whispered. She didn't know what to say, but seeing someone she considered a friend pained her.

Cassandra faked a grin, even if the others knew it was fake. She got up from one of the beds and headed toward the doors.

“I think I know where he is. Let me get him.”

“You sure?” Sly asked. More in concern than questioning. “We can always back you up.”

Cassandra shook her head. “That won't be nodded. I'll be back.” She turned to look at Tierney. A non-verbal communication went through, and she nodded.

Cassandra left the inn. Leaving the others concerned for her well-being but respected her decision.

Lyra sighed and sat at the edge of the bed. “I wish she would have talked to us. Told us how she was feeling, at least.”

Sly shook her head. “People grieve and will grieve in their own ways. She took what I said into consideration. She realized that things and people needed her, so she gave herself a push. She still is in pain and will process it, but she needs to get through the first hurdle. I was the same. We give people time so they can come to ask for help when they are ready.”

“I–” Lyra started, then pursed her lips together. “You’re right. I'm sorry, Sly. It's the same thing with Eamon.” she flinched.

What if… the other part of him, the one who had been in cold sleep, is still Eamon? It had been him when he said not to follow him except to kill him. Maybe I shouldn't force myself to find him…

“Hey.” Sly interrupted her thoughts. “I can see the wheels in your head turning. Don't go there. That situation is something else entirely. I can assure you that even though Eamon did those things willingly or not, he is being forced by another party at hand. They are not letting him choose. We aren't here to force him back into our lives but so that we can free him to have the free will to choose his life how he wants to live.”

That's right. This isn't about my feelings or getting Eamon back because he's family. He deserves the choice of freedom.

“Thank you, Sly.”

Unbeknownst to them, in the corner of the room, slanted against the wall, Riftblade glowed, and a pulsating hum vibrated from within its sheathe.