Fear.

It was a sobering feeling that made you question what you were doing. I could still feel the unending abyss, the sheer insignificance of my being.

What was the quote? If you gaze into the abyss the abyss will gaze back into you. Right I just got what that feels like.

Absolutely demoralising.

"Sit still," a voice called out to me waking me from my thoughts. "You keep shaking this will take longer."

It was the Formorian man, his scarred face twisting with impatience. His yellow coat made him look almost official, though I doubted he was part of the city’s law enforcement.

Probably from a nearby medical centre.

I took a breath and tried to comply, but even sitting still was a challenge. My body trembled, slight but noticeable. I wasn’t injured, though—I’d checked. Scanning the body was a basic spell for an Arcanist, and I’d been doing that since I was a novice. No, this wasn’t about injuries.

They were looking for something else. The inside man, maybe. The one who helped orchestrate the attack on the auction.

It was futile, though. They wouldn’t find what they were looking for. Since the man they wanted, Cedric, was probably in a different city by now.

I almost chuckled to myself, but the thought of Cedric was quickly overshadowed by something even more annoying—my confiscated gear. All my stuff, taken by law enforcement. The thought made my stomach twist in frustration. It was going to be a nightmare getting it all back, assuming they didn’t try to pin something on me in the meantime. I’d have to argue my case, file claims, go through a mountain of paperwork… It would take forever.

And the materials. That was the real headache. The talismans I made were no simple trinkets. The components I used were rare, and worse, expensive. Tracking them down had taken months.

I could already picture some clueless officer stuffing them into a plastic bag like they were nothing.

"All clear. You can go."

The Formorian doctor finally let me up, waving me off like a bad memory. I stretched my legs, numb from sitting still for too long, and stepped out of the tent into the scorching streets of Logi.

It was chaos. Vehicles—if you could call them that—buzzed and hovered around the city square, their shapes jagged and metallic, like something cobbled together from a dozen failed prototypes. Engines hissed and thrummed, hot air rippling as if the machines were alive, just barely contained in their frames. Logi was as far from Earth as you could get, but its heat could give a desert city a run for its money.

Law enforcement officers were scattered around, dressed in yellow and gray uniforms, taking notes and speaking with guests from the auction.

I scanned the scene, looking for someone in charge. I needed to get my gear back, and fast. Without it, I was as good as a sitting duck.

Before I could make any progress, a familiar voice cut through the noise. “Hey! Catch!”

I turned, startled, just in time to see a bag flying towards me. Instinct kicked in, and I snatched it out of the air.

It was my bag. My stuff.

I looked up to see Orvox, His towering frame and weathered face were unmistakable, but there was a glint in his eyes.

"Figured you'd be needing that," he said, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I opened the bag to make sure everything was still inside. The talismans, the vials, the arcane tools. All there, somehow untouched by the chaos of the auction. Relief flooded through me.

"You’ve no idea how much of a lifesaver this is," I muttered, zipping the bag shut. "How did you—?"

Orvox shrugged, his eyes flicking back to the bustling streets. "Saw it before the officers took it. Figured I'd do you a favor."

"Thanks I guess." I replied rubbing the back of my head in confusion.

Orvox nudged me on the shoulder, tilting his head toward a narrow alley. “Follow me.”

I clutched my bag tighter, taking one last look at the chaotic scene outside before trailing behind him. I was a bit skeptical since I wasn't really sure that I could trust someone like Orvox right now since I hadn't known him longer than 10 days.

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However if I wanted to get anywhere with the case of credric then maybe the church could help me.

Soon, we arrived at a bar tucked between two tall buildings, its sign half-lit, grime coating the windows.

Orvox pushed the door open, and the cool, dimly lit interior was a welcome change from the scorching heat outside. I spotted her immediately—sitting in the far corner of the bar, her armor catching the dim light just enough to highlight the familiar insignia. Ember.

It took me a moment since, the last time I saw her was an hour ago so it was a bit disorienting but I shook my head and calmed myself.

However something about Ember always felt off. It wasn’t her combat skill or her dedication—it was something deeper. Like I wasn’t seeing the whole picture. It annoyed me like an annoying bee that I couldn't swat away.

“Sit,” Orvox grumbled, gesturing to the booth across from Ember.

I slid into the seat, my bag beside me, while Orvox settled next to her. The bartender barely acknowledged us, and no one else seemed interested in what we were up to. A perfect place for quiet conversation.

Orvox waved down the server and ordered a drink. “Whiskey,” he muttered, then looked at me. “You?”

“I don’t drink,” I replied, shaking my head.

Orvox didn’t seem surprised. He just shrugged, leaning back as an awkward silence hung between us. I shifted, the tension gnawing at me. What were they doing together?

They weren't from the same organisation from what I knew.

“So… what are you two doing together? Didn’t think a knight and a priest would be working side by side these days.”

Orvox raised an eyebrow. “Times change. The Church of Gringol’s been expanding its reach. You’d be surprised what we’ve got our hands in these days.”

That made me more uneasy. "Yeah, but the Knights of Reed?" I glanced at Ember. Her golden eyes met mine, but her face was unreadable. "I thought your lot was... independent."

Ember straightened, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “We are. But justice doesn’t happen in a vacuum, Saturn. Sometimes you need alliances.” Her expression turned serious, pride clear in her voice. “I’m a Knight of Reed. We enforce justice and benevolence because we believe in it. Not because we’re told to, but because we choose to.”

The Knights of Reed—I’d heard the stories. They were a voluntary group, traveling the cosmos, fighting for justice where others wouldn’t. Their leader, Reed, was more of a myth than a real figure—no one knew if Reed even existed, but that didn’t stop the Knights from gaining a reputation for doing the impossible.

“You’re… with them,” I muttered, trying to wrap my head around it. “What’s a Knight of Reed doing all the way out here on Musspell?”

Ember’s gaze didn’t waver. “The same thing you’re doing, Crowley. We wish to stop the plans of Cedric."

I frowned, leaning forward in my seat. “So what’s all this got to do with me?” I asked, gesturing vaguely between them. There had to be a reason they dragged me out here, right?

Ember’s eyes flicked to Orvox before settling back on me. Her smile was almost dismissive. “Nothing, really,” she said, shrugging. “You’re not important enough for any of this. But since you’re already tangled in the mess, might as well clean it up.”

The words stung. She didn’t even try to sugarcoat it—just straight to the point. I wasn’t important. I clenched my fists under the table, trying to keep my composure. “Clean it up?” I repeated, my voice tighter than I wanted it to be.

Ember leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “You’re reckless, Crowley. You’ve been reckless from the start. What happened with Revek—"

I stiffened at the name. I didn’t want to think about it, but hearing his name threw me off balance. Ember wasn’t letting it go.

"He died because of you," she continued, her voice colder now. "You rushed in without thinking, and now Revek’s gone."

I felt my jaw tighten. My heartbeat picked up, and I could feel the frustration bubbling up inside me. “That wasn’t my fault,” I shot back, though even I could hear the defensiveness in my voice. "I didn’t mean for—"

But something else caught my attention, mid-sentence. A faint buzz, a pressure against my mind that felt… off. It was subtle, but I’d been around enough magic to recognize when someone was trying to mess with me. Instinctively, I activated my mental defenses, snapping them into place with a familiar spell. The pressure eased off, but the realization hit me hard.

I turned sharply, glaring at Orvox. “Don’t,” I growled, narrowing my eyes. “Don’t mess with my mind.”

Orvox didn’t flinch, but he raised his hands slightly in mock surrender. “Calm down, Crowley. It’s just a small spell to ease your tension.”

“Ease my tension?” I snapped, barely holding back my anger. “Don’t give me that. I know a mind-calming spell when I feel one. Don’t ever try that again.”

I could see Orvox’s magic now that I was actively defending against it—calming spells, designed to soothe and lower aggression. I analyzed the spell quickly. It was well-crafted, subtle enough to work on most people without them even noticing. But any self respecting Arcanist can defend against it.

Orvox’s lips curled into a wry smile. “You’re sharper than I gave you credit for,” he said, but there was no apology in his tone. "Just trying to help. No need to get all paranoid.”

I took a breath, trying to calm myself without his help. My mind was my own, and no one—not even Orvox—was going to take that from me.

The tension and irritation had nearly caused me to walk away, but I couldn’t deny it—their knowledge, especially Orvox's ties to the Church and Ember's background with the Knights, might be invaluable.

Musspell wasn’t a place i fully understood, and if Cedric was part of a larger scheme, I would need allies. As uneasy as it felt, they were my best shot.

“Alright,” i finally said, exhaling sharply and keeping my voice level. “I can work with you. But if we're going to do this, I need something more than a promise. Trust goes both ways.”

Orvox raised an eyebrow. “And what, exactly, do you have in mind?”

“A geas,” I replied firmly. "It's an oath, a contract, an agreement that enforces trust in the harshest way possible. Both of you should know of it?"

“If one of us breaks the geas,” I continued, “it will take something that you are giving up here but it will be equal value to others."

“What do you propose, then?” Orvox asked, his expression unreadable but his voice carrying an edge of curiosity.

“For me,” I said, my voice was steady, though the words felt like I was sealing my own fate, “If I break this agreement, I’ll lose the ability to step forth in the rank of Advanced mage."

Orvox folded his arms, his gaze sharp. After a moment, he spoke. “Very well. I’ll put forth my ability to have children."

Ember nodded slowly, considering her own stake. "I will stake half of my blessing from Reed." she said finally.

As Orvox considered my proposal, his gaze hardened. “Alright, but tell me—how exactly are we supposed to sign this agreement here?”

I felt a smirk tug at the corner of my mouth. I reached into my bag, digging out an old crayon, worn down but functional. Not the fanciest magical tool, but it would do the job.

“Right here,” I replied, laying the crayon on the table. I began drawing a crude circle, adding intricate symbols with practiced ease. Magic hummed faintly under my fingers as I muttered an incantation, focusing the energy into the circle until it pulsed with a faint glow. “This will bind us, for as long as each of us keeps our word. None can break it without consequence.”

Orvox and Ember leaned in, watching intently as I finished the symbols. Orvox’s expression was unreadable, and Ember’s face remained stoic. I could see them both processing the gravity of what I was proposing. It was true—this spell wouldn’t be easy to break. I hadn’t lied about that, but I had left out a small detail: it was possible. Difficult, complex, and time-consuming, but possible. I just wasn’t about to tell them that.

Once I was finished, I pressed my hand to the center of the circle, letting the spell seal us into the contract. A faint shimmer rose from the symbols before sinking into the table, and the circle faded, leaving only a faint outline behind.

The geas was complete.

Orvox leaned back, a satisfied expression on his face. “We’ll meet tomorrow at your place, then. We’ll iron out the details and go over any leads on Cedric.”

Ember gave a nod, her gaze distant. “Until tomorrow.”

Without another word, they stood and left, leaving me alone in the dimly lit bar. I watched them go, feeling a mix of relief and exhaustion wash over me. This was a risky alliance, and I knew it, but if Cedric was as big a threat as they made him out to be, I needed every advantage I could get.

I took a slow, measured sip of water, letting my mind drift as the tension from the day finally began to fade. My fingers traced the faint outline of the contract on the table, and I couldn’t help but feel the weight of it all—the choices I’d made, the price I’d agreed to pay.

If only I could turn back time. How much easier things would be.

But that was a fool’s dream. I pushed the thought aside, finishing my water in silence.