When Riven woke up, it took him several moments to understand what was going on. The world rushing past him was a desolate, broken landscape, scarred with cracks and craters, and spotted with tiny pools of water here and there. Mist drifted lazily here and there, refusing to depart as the sun hadn’t properly risen yet. Riven blinked. The wilderness stretched out before him on all sides wherever he looked. What? He hadn’t been—

Oh, right. Riven sighed, settling back against the seat. “What time is it?”

“Nearly eight o’clock by my reckoning,” Raynard said. The tall man kept his eyes on the road ahead like a good chauffeur, though it went on endless and no different from the road stretching for leagues behind them. There was nothing to keep an eye out for. “Sleep well?”

Raynard had offered to drive when they had set out last night. Insisted, actually. After Riven’s exertions and wounds, he was in no condition to be driving a car, and Nivi had only let them set off after Riven had promised he’d get some sleep. Which he had.

“Fine enough,” Riven said.

It wasn’t really. Sleep hadn’t helped much. The lacerations left by Weathering on his back, palm, and everywhere else stung severely despite the salve Nivi had applied. She had unwrapped his lazy bandage around the wound on his leg and had applied more unguents and ointments than Riven could have kept track of, then bound it with clean bandages before thrusting a pack of medicine and extra bandages for him to use regularly on his leg. According to Nivi, the wound was severe, but not uncurable. Riven just had to take better care of himself.

As if he was going to get the chance to prioritize his wounds. They needed to find Viriya and Rose, needed to get into Providence Demesne, and sticking out like a sore thumb with his limping gait wasn’t going to help with any of that.

“How far?” Riven asked.

“Not long now,” Raynard assured him.

“Did you drive the whole night?”

“Well, I couldn’t exactly wake you up.”

“You could have stopped to take a rest. Don’t you need to sleep?”

Raynard shrugged. “Sleep is a luxury I can’t afford right now.”

Riven grunted. That sounded about right. Honestly, Riven shouldn’t have slept either, but the wounds left by Weathering had taken their toll. His exhaustion needed to be corrected. Though the thought of exertion made his stomach rumble.

“Where’s the food?” Riven looked at the seat behind them. Nivi had given them more than just medicine, and Riven needed to fix his famishment too.

“Behind the seats,” Raynard said. “On the floor. We’ll eat soon, after I stop to take a break.”

Riven didn’t ask when. Driving all night must have left Raynard more fatigued than he was letting on, and it couldn’t be long before he stopped the car. Something told Riven the other man had been waiting for him to wake up. Scions, Riven never should have fallen asleep. It hadn’t even properly helped his exhaustion anywhere near enough to make up for the inconvenience he had caused Raynard.

He was right. Raynard stopped the car after another quarter-league of driving. “I think we’re close to the Demesne gate. I’m going to go take a leak and look around. Shoot if you need anything.”

Riven nodded. Raynard left.

With a grunt of effort, Riven bent to get the packs of food Nivi had spared them. Apparently, she and the workers of the facility had been expecting an attack from Orbray and had stockpiled some food away for later, a portion of which Nivi had given to Riven and Raynard for their journey. It wasn’t exactly kingly fare with the hard bread, harder cheese, and dried fish and beef jerky, but Riven shovelled it into his mouth all the same.

“We’re here,” Raynard said when he came back. He accepted some hard bread and cheese from Riven with a grateful nod. “There are guards there. I don’t think it’s a good idea to let them know we’re here though. I spy, with my little eyes, that they’re the unfriendly kind.”

Orbray’s men. Riven should have suspected that much. He nodded. “What do you intend to do?”

“Kill them.”

Riven blinked. Raynard seemed such a mild-mannered man, and any other time, Riven would have said he was incapable of hurting a fly. Killing unwary guards was the last thing his pleasant demeanour suggested. But looks could be deceiving after all.

“How?” Riven asked.

Raynard pulled out his carbine. “With these. A couple of shots, and they’re taken care of. You don’t seem surprised or… reluctant in any way.”

“Should I be?”

Raynard’s mouth pressed into a line. “It seems I was under the wrong impression that you would be more recalcitrant about harsher measures.”

“You mean I’m not as innocent as I seem?”

“If you put it that way.”

“I killed two people in cold blood last night. Before that, in the morning, I ran over another man on my way there.” Riven took a deep breath. “I don’t think there’s any space for me to worry about the moral complexities of decisions. Righteousness is a choice, a luxury I can’t afford any more than you can afford sleep.”

Raynard nodded, though there was something troubling in the cast of his face, like his fears had been confirmed. Riven was right. At heart, Raynard was a good man. A kind and pleasant one. This talk of cold-blooded killing was something borne out of necessity, something he had no wish to do.

No matter. Riven couldn’t spare any sympathy at the moment for anything or anyone right now. Viriya and Rose were in danger and he wasn’t about to let the same thing happen to them as had happened to Glaven.

They finished their meal quickly, saving some for later, and headed out. Good thing the mist hadn’t left yet. The flat ground devoid of even any Coral trees and thorngrass meant there was no place to hide and visibility would be high come midday. They found the two guards as distant silhouettes in the gloom.

“What if there are more in a guardhouse?” Riven asked.

“Unlikely.” Raynard kept his voice low as though the fog didn’t deaden the noise and they weren’t too far from the guards to be overheard. “You think Orbray has the men to spare to fully man every little guar house he comes across, especially after spreading his trusted men thin all over Severance Frontier? No, these two are select trusted men sent to keep an eye on who comes in and goes out of Providence Demesne.”

“But what if they’re Providence guards, set here by Father?”

“I saw them. Ascension uniforms on both of them.”

Riven nodded. Raynard could be wildly wrong and they might be making an enormous mistake. But Mother had said to have faith, and it was easier that way. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are.”

They aimed and fired, each shooting at a different man. The blast was deadened by the mist too, and both guards fell to the ground. Riven rose and limped after Raynard, who charged into the fog to check on their victims and take care of any other guards that might be in the area.

Riven used his sword as a crutch. Damn, but he had to figure out how to get better, or at least walk faster. If a fight ever came up, how in the world was he supposed to survive in his condition with a busted leg?

There were no more guards as Raynard had said. And they were Orbray’s people too, which didn’t bode well for Providence Demesne. It really had fallen to Orbray. What in the world was Father doing, and where were he and the rest of the Providence Essentiers?

Raynard bade Riven wait while he drove the car up. It was a good thing the mist hid the guard’s bodies. Four. That’s how many people had Riven killed thus far, and it didn’t look like it was going to stop increasing any time soon.

But this was the first time he’d killed a man who hadn’t intended him any overt harm. He was just doing his job.

“Are you shaken?” Raynard asked.

“I‘m fine,” Riven lied. The seat was soft and comforting, and it helped lessen the trembles in his legs, especially the injured one. On the one hand, it was good his sword was long enough to use as a crutch, but on the other, how was he supposed to wield it properly? His fencing lessons didn’t cover long sabres like this.

“What we did was necessary,” Raynard said. “Not right. But needed.”

Riven was quiet for a moment. “He was harmless. It wasn’t like he was charging in to kill us, nor was he an enemy Essentier who could have destroyed us all. And he had family somewhere, right? And friends. People who cared. What about any of them?”

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“That kind of thinking is what gets people killed the easiest in battlefields. It’s not the lack of discipline or the lack of thought, it’s the lack of conviction. You need to focus on your goal and shove everything else out of the way. You need to trust yourself that you’re making the right choices, because as you said, righteousness is a luxury we can’t afford at the moment.”

“We can afford it after the fact, can’t we?”

Raynard sighed. He scratched his patchy bread, and for a moment, the skin around his dark eyes crinkled as he stared at Riven. “Not if it makes you baulk the next the harsh decision.”

“It won’t,” Riven promised.

They didn’t talk much after that. The morning still hadn’t set in, but there was far less mist in Providence city. Raynard stopped the car and hid it before they entered the city. It was too conspicuous, and they needed to sneak in.

All well and good if Riven didn’t have one leg completely ruined.

“I think we should split up,” Riven said.

“I can’t leave you,” Raynard said. “You’re too injured. If something happens, I need to be around to help.”

Riven didn’t argue further. It was frustrating to think he needed to be babysat, but his injury silenced him. He was still limping after all.

They sneaked around as best as they could. It was a little slow going thanks to Riven’s limping, but he tried his best not to slow them down too much. Raynard guided Riven around buildings and between lampposts and Coral trees, making sure they were always in shadows or at such an angle that there was no danger of being seen from above.

But the further they went, it became increasingly clear that Providence city wasn’t the same anymore. The buildings looked derelict and forlorn, all the doors closed tight, curtains drawn, and shutters boarding up the windows. There was little to no sign of people on the streets either. No cars, no rail carriages, not even any sign of beggars. Certainly no one making their way to work in the morning.

Riven swallowed. The whole city had to be under curfew, just like Lintellant.

Orbray had conquered Providence Demesne.

Raynard was leading them to the Invigilator’s Office, but they stopped when they spotted their first Essentier. The man in the navy uniform was swaggering down the street like he owned it, one hand kept on the gun at his waist. Riven scowled. It would be so easy to take out the unwary bastard. Just a moment’s focus and—

“This doesn’t look good,” Raynard said.

Riven breathed out a little sigh at having to pause, though he hid it from Raynard. “I don’t think Viriya or Rose are going to be in the Invigilator’s Office.”

“I think that’s where they’d be kept if captured. If they’re in Providence Demesne in the first place.”

Riven did his best not to wince at the “if”. It was a long shot yes, but it wasn’t like they had any stronger leads on where to find Viriya and Rose. Though perhaps, Raynard still held the idea that they ought to head back and get to Aross instead of scrounging around here on a wild goose chase. “They’re not captured. I know they wouldn’t be, not so easily. But we could ask, couldn’t we?”

Raynard stared at him. “Are you suggesting we capture one of Orbray’s Essentiers?”

“Why not?”

“And then kill them once we’ve learned everything?”

Riven kept his curse to himself. Damn Raynard thought everything through to the end. “If necessary.”

“It will be necessary if we capture that one for instance.” Raynard pointed at the Essentier strolling down the street.

Riven stared back at the enemy Essentier. The decision to strike was up to Riven, and though all he did was watch, Raynard showed no signs of agitation at their opportunity walking away. The Essentier ambled down the street and was about to turn a corner, soon to be lost to sight, when Riven focused. The pressure burgeoned out of him and golden lines shot towards the distant man faster than thought.

A spherical shield formed around his head, and the man started struggling.

“Go fetch him,” Riven said.

Raynard looked on as the man struggled on the ground, staring with his mouth slightly agape. Then he shook himself and dashed away. By the time he reached the Ascension Essentier, the man’s struggles had ceased and he had gone limp at the lack of air. Interrogating a corpse was impossible, so Riven had to turn off his Essence and allow Raynard to drag back a live specimen of what Ascension had to offer.

“I was sure he was dead,” Raynard said, wiping sweat from his brows.

Riven nudged the Ascension Essentier with his good foot. The man moaned, his golden Secondmarked pin glinting in the rising sunlight. “Just be thankful no one saw you.”

“Spread thin, as I said.”

“So… do you know how to interrogate people? An Essentier, specifically?”

“Simple.”

Raynard drew his Coral knife and knelt beside the man. He slapped the Essentier who spluttered awake, chest heaving, but made no further move. Raynard had placed one thick arm over the man’s chest and held the Coral knife against his throat. “Easy friend. Don’t even think about using your Essence, or I’ll slice your throat. Grunt if you understand.”

The Essentier made some weird sound in his throat like bursting a paper bag, and Raynard nodded in confirmation. Riven frowned. That hadn’t sounded like a grunt to him. Still, that was quite an effective technique. A knife at the throat threatened immediate death, so no matter how hardy or powerful an Essentier, it immobilized everyone.

“Okay friend,” Raynard continued. “You’re going to answer a few questions if you want to live. They’ll be simple yes and no ones. Only yes and no, understand. Grunt.”

The Essentier grunted.

“First thing, is Orbray in Providence city?”

The Essentier hesitated. Raynard smiled and pressed the knife a little deeper into the man’s neck. “No.”

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? Next, do you know where Rosbel Morell is?”

“No.”

“How do we know that’s the truth?” Riven asked.

Raynard smiled. “Do you know how many people are guarding the gate to Providence Demesne?” he asked the man.

Riven had to hold himself back from clapping. It wasn’t the surest of ways to determine truths and lies—for the man could say the truth about one thing but lie about another—but it was an intriguing way, still. Hats off to Raynard.

“Yes.”

The knife dug deeper in the man’s neck, a thin red line opening up under its touch. “Was it four?”

“No.”

Raynard’s smile grew wider. “How many then?”

“Two.”

“There you have your answer, Riven.”

The mention of his name made the man look up. Riven stared back, trying to think of what to ask to sate his priorities. So far, Raynard had asked questions that Riven didn’t have the slightest interest in knowing at the moment.

“Is Viriya Rorink here?” Riven asked. “Or Rosiene Morell?”

The Essentier was silent for a moment. Riven pushed himself closer, staring right into the man’s blue eyes. The cast of his face said the answer was more complicated than a simple yes or no.

The man grunted.

Raynard laughed. “He catches on quick, this one.”

“Are they here or not?” Riven asked again.

“I don’t know,” the Essentier replied. His voice was gruff, the words escaping quick as though he didn’t want to move his neck too much in fear of cutting himself deeper. “They suspect Rorink or Morell, or maybe even both, are here somewhere. I don’t know where though. We’re only keeping an eye out.”

Riven took a deep breath. At least, that seemed to confirm they weren’t dead. News of something of that magnitude would have reached their ears by now.

“I think we’re done, yes?” Raynard asked.

The man looked up hopefully. “You will release me then?”

Riven nodded. “We—”

Raynard drew the knife across the man’s neck, and blood splattered out. Riven gasped and stepped back hastily, injured leg protesting at the motion. The man stared agog but flopped to the ground with no protesting movement. He was dead in heartbeats.

Riven’s mouth worked but no words would come out. He closed his eyes. Why did this death strike so hard when he had killed Essentiers with his own hands? This was inevitable. There was nothing more the man could have provided to them, and letting him go was out of the question. There was nothing more they could have done. He had to die.

Yet the blood polling around his slumped body looked deep. Too deep. The crimson drew Riven in, threatening to drag him in and never let him go until he had drowned.

“All right, we need to split up,” Riven said. “You can check the Invigilator’s Office if you really want. I’m going to head elsewhere.”

“Didn’t I say we can’t split up?”

“I’ll be fine. We can meet back up at the car.” Riven turned and limped away. “Don’t get caught.”

As Riven made his way down the street, keeping close to the shadows of the buildings and taking alleyways where he could, Raynard didn’t follow. That was good. However pleasant Raynard appeared, he was still far too cold for Riven. A killer. Best to keep him at a safe distance.

Riven limped away with his new sword. He was going to find Viriya or Rose, and it seemed he’d be better off doing it without Raynard tagging along.

#

It wasn’t as frightening a journey as Riven had at first assumed it might be. The streets weren’t deserted completely, for Orbray’s soldiers and the occasional Essentier still patrolled the main thoroughfares, but the main ones only. Even though he’d been in Providence for hardly much more than a week, Riven had memorized the map and layout very well. He knew which back alleyways to take and which to avoid, which would keep him out of sight of watchers, and which would allow him to move through the city like an apparition.

Limping, therefore, wasn’t as much a problem as Riven had initially feared. That still didn’t forestall any encounters with the guards. His journey wasn’t as smooth as he would have liked. At several spots, he had to stop to let patrols pass or find a quick hiding spot to make sure he wasn’t seen. That wouldn’t have been fun.

Nevertheless, Riven made it to the flash post office in one piece.

As he had feared, there wasn’t really anyone there. The post officers from last time were gone, and though the door lock was easy to get past with some brute force thanks to his Essence armouring his hand, Riven found no clue within.

The tables were devoid of any papers, and the posting machine looked stood forlorn and cold as though it hadn’t been used in a while. Of course. Orbray would have cut off any communications to and from the Demesne, or at the very least, have it highly monitored.

Riven checked everywhere though. His leg was hurting and Nivi had told him to give it proper rest, but he couldn’t pause without finding something. There had to be some clue of Viriya or Rose, some sign that they were here and had taken shelter somewhere. He found nothing though. No sign of Viriya hiding in the storage room where all the unsent letters were kept, no clue of Rose’s whereabouts in the footsteps that had disturbed the dust on the floor, not even any single sign of what Father might be up to in any of the letters he read.

Maybe he’d been stupid to come here. Weary, Riven leaned against one of the officer’s tables, sighing at the loss of weight on his injured leg. He had to be thankful he hadn’t been spotted with his huge sword, so cursing anything was out of the question.

For all he knew, Viriya or Rose might be waiting in some other place. He hadn’t checked Rose’s little house yet, after all. Perhaps her servants knew something of her whereabouts. And Viriya had a family, though that made Riven frown. Orbray had better not have touched innocents just to get to them.

All of it banked on the fact that Rose and Viriya was still alive. He shook his head, refusing to entertain the fact that they might be dead. The Secondmarked Essentier hadn’t heard anything after all.

Riven paused at the door as voices marched down the street.

“The western district?”

“That’s right. They said one of the Thirdmarked tried to take her head-on and died in minutes.”

“Insane!”

“I know. She’s a literal demon, they say.”

The voices were from gruff men, partly excited, but also greatly frightened. That could mean only one thing. An enemy, one who was capable of defeating a Thirdmarked with far too much ease. Riven’s heart thundered in his chest. Could it be Rose?

Once the voices had faded, Riven stepped out of the post office. He stared in every direction, even upwards, to make sure no one could spot him. Western district. No, that was the direction to Ambrosial Demesne, where Viriya was headed. Maybe it wasn’t Rose who had come back to Providence.

Riven moved as fast as his limping legs could carry him. Stupid of him to think trying to find clues in places like the flash post office would help. He should have done his best to overhear Orbray’s goons, however dangerous it might seem.

Damn, Raynard hadn’t suggested any such thing either. The man might have been pleasant and efficient, but he was either too fearful of getting caught or too dumb.

He didn’t get very far.

“Halt! Who goes there?”

Riven turned, heart jumping into his mouth. Two Ascension soldiers had their rifles pointed at him. Shit.

He was caught.