The 24th day of Solariel - the region of the Valerian Republic

A week had passed since the Citizen’s Chamber Conference.

Countries like Crystalline City had already taken their stance and wanted nothing to do with the Empire. The Aurora Federation had done away with them long ago and rarely participated in affairs with other nations.

Lysandrian Kingdom's Ledel City was in a constant state of uproar and affected because the military wanted to demote Locksmiths.

The Valerian Republic was in the middle, unnerved by the Chancellor's systematic message and its potential implications for the College.

Going against the Empire would have cost too much, and it would have been a strain if they lost the trust of other countries.

For the moment, this mattered not to one individual in particular: Cassandra Aegis.

The niece of the High Cardinal.

What she lacked in the abilities of a Locksmith or Custodian, she placed her skills elsewhere and excelled as an Inquisitor. What they lacked in power made up for in their formidable combat skills.

At twenty-six, she was the youngest to be appointed Praefectus Vigilum, commanding the highest Ala Quingenaria cohort. Cassandra hailed from a prestigious family steeped in tradition and deeply rooted in the Church of Saint Lumos.

Like the late and respected great-great-grandfather, Osiris Aegis. She, too, was celebrated for attaining that very same title and was given the chance to guard the Tsar. However, Chancellor Viktor’s intervention overshadowed those accomplishments each time.

Despite any relationship that the Tsar or her uncle, the High Cardinal, had with the Chancellor, she was tired of him and his eerily snake-charmer act that she could see a mile away. He was good at what he did; sometimes, she would forget who the Chancellor was versus what he showed to the world.

She almost gave him credit. Almost.

Cassandra readied herself for her travels. A servant girl donned her undergarments and, on top of that, her arming doublet, followed by her silver armor, which glistened despite no sun hitting its surface.

They had the best blacksmiths in the Republic, too.

“Tierney, when you do my hair, I’d like it to be in a high ponytail. I’ll be out on my rounds, and it is best that I see all angles.” She had to negotiate a trade deal with a neighboring civilization. She would have instead done this herself– she was friends with the native princess, and her mother, Queen Boa, was somewhat nervous about the Republic –but the Cardinal insisted.

“Yes, Lady Cassandra.” The young servant girl said as she brushed her shiny, voluptuous blonde hair. The long ringlets of hair fell past her shoulder. The servant girl carefully bound her hair in a high ponytail, letting Cassandra’s bangs rest against her tan forehead.

Cassandra turned from side to side, marveling that no hair was stuck out of place. She was a stickler for perfection; if it was not weapons she ogled over, it was her hair.

“You’re a miracle worker, Tierney, and you keep getting better and better,” She told the girl from the mirror's reflection. Cassandra’s amber eyes met Tierney's multicolored ones: one teal and the other a jade green color.

“T-Thank you, M’lady.” Tierney stumbled and bowed. Her long, beaded braids clinked together. A faint rose color adorned her tawny brown complexion when she lifted her head. “I know how particular you like your hair styled, especially when fighting.”

Cassandra beamed and turned around in her seat to face the fourteen-year-old. “You know me so well; what would I ever do without you?” Taking her hand in hers.

Tierney’s eyes widened. A deeper shade of red adorned her complexion. “I…I’m sure you would have found someone, M’lady.”

She snorted. “I assure you that you have more skills than you give yourself credit for. Remember that.”

Tierney pursed her lips and nodded. “I’ll try harder. Thank you, Lady Cassandra.”

She sighed with a smile, “I have told you to call me just Cassandra.” Patting her hand, she stood and hugged her, coddling her lovingly. “That's all I ask. Now, tell me, why the long face? And don’t think I didn’t notice, young lady.”

Her cheeks reddened once more. “It’s…It’s nothing.”

Cassandra raised a thin brow and placed her steel hands on her hips. Though uncomfortable in that position, her stance was to urge the truth out of her.

“I had… the dream again.”

Cassandra pursed her lips. Tierney had an uncanny gift of foreseeing certain events and other telekinetic abilities, in addition to keeping where she was really from a secret.

After the Veilfall tragedy, she was an orphan and the only known survivor. Tierney roamed Aurum before being sold into the network. Thankfully, a kind soul who was an acquaintance of Cassandra placed Tierney in her care and took her in.

She was more like a little sister than a servant, and Tierney regarded her as family.

“Was it the one with the strange people in white coats?”

Tierney shook her head. “The one with you in it and… something bad happening that I can't see.”

“Tierney. Look at me.” Bending down some to her height, she stared, unblinking. “I promise you, I won’t be gone long. I’ll come back.”

Tierney furrowed her brows. Her lip quivered.

Cassandra strapped her ax, Stigma, in its holder after. “We aren’t going across the wall; it’s just west, and its open fields from there out. Barely any Fiends roam the area, and you know I can take out as many as I can with my eyes closed.”

“But what about the Fiends who have been acting erratically of late? They've also summoned a creature rumored to be Magycte Beasts.”

Cassandra wrinkled her nose. “That old legend that's more like a fairytale? No. I don't believe a Beast from the Primal Chaos era came back. It must be a new kind of Veilspawn, but the Locksmiths will figure it out. They always do.”

Tierney was still unsure but trusted her and nodded. “I’ll have your bath drawn when you get back. And… maybe we can have a snack and listen to Aurum Classic on the radio?”

Cassandra smiled and ruffled her head. “Do sugar cookies with raspberry topping sound good?”

Tierney bobbed her head excitedly, partially forgetting her worries about sugary snacks. She was bouncing on her heels, fists tightened in exhilaration. Cassandra giggled at the excitable child, happy to see that side of her.

Once she was ready, she left her room and headed down the halls until she reached the infantry, where her squadron was.

Upon seeing her, they all stood at attention and saluted. “Centurion Praefectus Vigilum, ma’am!”

Cassandra gave a stiff nod. “Alright, cohort, let’s move out!”

On foot and horseback, the Centurion and their five-hundred-strong wing walked Valerian’s main street to head out of the west gates to ‘Echoes Ridge.’ Crowds of pedestrians gathered around and cheered, waving to the soldiers as they passed in respect and a form of good fortune to return home safely.

The gates opened, and the Praefectus Vigilum and the five hundred entered the roadway. The trek would take a two-day journey back and forth, but the Republic had a fort halfway down the road.

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Along the dusty road was Haven Wall, spanning over one hundred lengths and feet, both east and west; it had been there for over five hundred years since the Primal Chaos era. Legends foretold that it kept unsightly creatures out, more terrifying than Veilspawn. It was where the legion army entered and was last seen again, not even their horses, and there was no trace of their whereabouts.

For centuries, authorities stopped people from crossing the wall and entering the dark sea of forest beyond.

Cassandra shivered at the thought. Was there really anything like that? What attacked Troér? Could it be what took my great-grandfather and his army beyond those walls? Cassandra perished the thought and kept her eyes focused on the road ahead.

Instead, she thought about when she got back to how she and Tierney would relax with cookies in their bellies, listening to classic show tunes.

What happened next would change her life forever.

•†•

When the cohort reached their fort camp, night had fallen. Six soldiers gathered and pulled open the wooden gates so the cohorts could enter the base.

The pyres did not take long to light the midnight sky and settle in for the night.

Cassandra was in the commander's cabin, shifting through papers by way of midnight oil. Besides the shuffling and low murmurs from the soldiers, everything was silent. On most nights, it would have been bliss for Cassandra as she would take this time to read, meditate, or train. Still, tonight– after her conversation with Tierney and seeing the unsettling look in her eyes – The eerie silence unnerved her as it echoed nothingness.

A sudden knock on the door startled her; she practically jumped out of her skin.

She cleared her throat. “Come in.” She hoped whoever was on the other side couldn't tell she had been shaken so easily.

A spiky brown-haired soldier stood in the doorway, now in comfortable trousers and a loose-fitting shirt.

“Excuse the intrusion, commander,” he said, then tipped his head in a bow.

Cassandra did the same, allowing him to speak further. “What can I do for you, Phillippe?”

Philippe stood at attention. At twenty-one years old, he was one of the youngest members of the cohort. He had a grandfather and little sister; joining the army was the only way to make a substantial income to care for them.

Many men and women were like that and joined for a better income to support their families.

“Some of us were heading to the tavern to get a drink. I was wondering if you’d like to join us, ma’am.” His face turned scarlet, and he held his head far too high as if looking at his commanding officer would shame him greatly.

Cassandra grinned. She found him adorable. “Coming to my quarters to ask me for a drink in the middle of the night?”

Seeing how it must have looked, his eyes bugged out, and his face turned even redder at her statement.

“Uh-uh, n-no, nothing like that, ma’am! I just…uh, I probably should have thought about that better. Russell and the others said…”

She giggled. “Ah, well, that explains it.” Russell and some of his men often picked at him with ‘harmless’ jokes, just enough to tease him.

Despite the joke, Cassandra did not appreciate the game and would have to speak to them tomorrow morning.

“Well, I would love to relax and let my hair down, but, alas,” she stretched her arms over the table covered in parchment. “I have plenty of paperwork to do. Have an extra drink for me, yeah?”

Phillippe bobbed his head with a salute. “Ma’am!” He started to leave when Cassandra called him back. “Ma’am?” worried creased his brows, wondering if he would get in trouble.

Cassandra still had a smile on her face, letting him know he was not in any trouble. “Don’t let Russell and them take advantage so much. It may all be good fun, but you give them too much power over you. It’s alright to say no, and if they get irate, let me handle it.”

He stiffly nodded. A hard thump dropped in his throat as the images of what she would do appeared in his mind.

“G-Goodnight, commander.”

“Goodnight, Phillippe. I’ll see you at dawn.”

A murmur of activity faded as the soldiers settled in. Exhausted from her work, she found a moment of respite at her desk. The familiar creak of the door announced her entry, and the cabin greeted her with an uneasy familiarity.

In the dream, Tierney's voice echoed hauntingly: "Leave. Get out now." The cabin, once a sanctuary, now felt oppressive. The walls seemed to close in, whispers of warning saturating the air. Then came the screams, gut-wrenching and vivid, as if the walls themselves were witnesses to unspeakable horrors.

Cassandra jolted awake. Beads of sweat clung to her forehead. The abrupt transition from the nightmare to reality left her disoriented, and her breath quickened. She rose from her chair, the chilled floor underfoot grounding her.

Determined to dismiss the lingering unease, Cassandra entered the quiet night. A few soldiers wandered about, their silhouettes barely visible in the moonlight. Yet, the tranquility of the base was deceiving, for Cassandra could not shake the echoing cry from the nightmare.

The minutes passed. She convinced herself that it was nothing more than a product of exhaustion and stress. However, just as she began to ease into a semblance of peace, an unnatural fog began to unfurl, thick and disorienting. Confusion furrowed Cassandra's brow as the mist obscured her surroundings.

A monstrous cry shattered the stillness, reverberating through the mist. Cassandra's senses heightened, and a primal fear took hold. The dream's warning lingered in her mind, a disturbing prelude to an unknown threat.

The blare of the alarm resonated through the fort, a dissonant symphony that roused soldiers from their slumber. Startled and disoriented, they stumbled out of their quarters, some hastily donning armor, others clutching weapons in a scramble.

Cassandra stood at the forefront, her voice slicing through the chaos. "Stay wary! Hold your positions! Do not break formation!"

The fog thickened, swallowing the fort in an impenetrable haze. Tension gripped the soldiers as they strained to discern the threat lurking within the mist. A scream pierced the air, sending shivers down their spines. All eyes darted around; trying to find the source, but the fog offered no answers.

Cassandra's tone remained steady, a thin veneer masking the unease beneath. "Steady, soldiers. Hold the line."

However, the facade of composure shattered as unseen forces plucked soldiers into the swirling abyss, one by one. The mist writhed with dark tentacles. It snaked out to claim its victims. Anguished yells echoed a haunting symphony of despair that drowned out all other sounds.

"No! Hold your ground!" Cassandra shouted, desperation creeping into her voice. Her commands elicited terrified stares as the reality of the unseen threat unfolded before them.

The fort's once-organized defense dissolved into chaos. Fiends emerged from the thickening mist, their malevolent forms casting eerie shadows. Cassandra fought at the forefront, her ax's blade a whirlwind of desperate strikes. The clash of steel against otherworldly claws resounded amid the panicked cries of soldiers.

The fog clung to the battlefield like a sinister shroud. Soldiers vanished one by one. Cassandra's heart pounded, each lost comrade intensifying the weight of her leadership. The air reeked of fear, and the once-disciplined fort now became a battleground of survival against the encroaching darkness.

Cassandra powered through the field, hacking and slashing her way through the Fiends, hoping to give her army a chance to survive, but somewhere in her mind was a feeling of doubt. Her stomach sank at the thought of seeing Lumos so soon, and the worst part was that she would not even be able to see her attacker.

Her balance staggered when she tripped. She kept herself upright and looked down at what had caused her to almost trip.

“Phillippe!” she shouted to the young soldier. He mumbled something incoherent. She crouched low and attempted to lift his body, but horror struck her now pale face. Cassandra panicked and cradled the young soldier with his head nestled into the crook of her arm.

Her heart hammered in its chest, seeing his pupils dilate, looking not at her but through her– she knew he did not have long left.

“T–Tell my–” He didn’t finish his sentence as his last breath left his body.

Cassandra’s eyes widened. She could not move, could not speak, even as the chaos and screams continued around her. She sat on the cool ground, cradling the young man's hair, reminding him that he would never see his family again.

No one would be able to see their family again.

“No.” A curt tone fell past her lips.

She placed Phillippe’s body gently to the ground and retrieved her ax. If it were her time to meet Lumos, then she would take what had killed all her soldiers with her.

“Come out and fight me, you coward! I’m right here!” she shouted into the fog. There were no more screams of terror or cries of pain. It was only silence.

Until it was not, and someone began clapping. Her grip tightened around the weapon.

“Coward? No.” the unknown voice said. There was no discerning where it was coming from. “I’d like to think of myself as a strategist.”

Cassandra gritted her teeth. She was about to call out to the voice when a large figure emerged from the fog. Her eyes widened at the monstrous plant beast with fangs and several dozen vine tentacles. A human sat on its head wearing a tailored suit, a tricorne-tipped hat, and ear-length dark brown hair with a few strands of white at the ends.

“By Lumos’ Grace….” Cassandra mumbled. She didn’t know what this creature was, but the power it gave off– even without having Essentia –was ancient as it was evil.

Now that he was closer, the person on the creature had a 5 o’clock shadow and lidded eyes, making it look like he was sleeping. Yet, he was anything but because the color of his piercing icy blue eyes led Cassandra to assume that his ‘devil may care’ attitude was only a facade.

“Lumos? Unfortunately, for you, no. You’re speaking to Sovran #5, Maxwell Croger.” He slightly bowed with the tip of his hat as if they were at dinner and not on a battlefield where his pet killed her people. “Croger will do, however. It's a pleasure. And you, my fair blonde commander? I do love a woman in armor.”

“Enough of your distractions! Why have you done this!?”

Croger gave her the slightest grin, but it chilled Cassandra to her core despite the innocent gesture. The following words out of his mouth sent her reeling.

“You, your cohort, and the legion before you were all necessary for the Arbiter’s plan.”

Cassandra’s eyes twitched. She thought she misheard him. “What did you say?”

He stated that he or his associates killed the legion, but the Children of Deimos have not been seen since the era of Primal Chaos.

“Hm? Oh, yes, the legion didn’t just disappear. Our hand killed them with a similar Magycte Beast,” he said, patting the large vine creature's head. “But I'm wondering, curious even, but similarities to the Legion Captain. What was his name?”

He snapped his finger as he looked up, thinking. Then, finally, let another snap and an ‘aha’ escape. “That's right… Osiris, wasn't it?”

Cassandra raised her ax, gritted her teeth, and readied herself into a stance. Her eyes gleamed with fiery vengeance, blocking out common sense and focusing on adrenaline.

“You’ll pay, you monster!” A battle cry rang from her mouth as she charged for him.