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    The two were one, white and black now gray and churning furiously. The power residing inside him was devastating, but it was not enough. Even drawing in every scrap of power from the rhinn travelers and the priests of Wyndemir, it was not enough to destroy the invading god.


    Restraining it and hindering its attempts at gaining access into Maydian proved difficult enough. Moreso now that he no longer wielded the authority of hundreds in the palm of his hand.


    “How are you holding up?” Goslin asked.


    Sarien blanked his expression. “Fine. I’m fine.”


    “You don’t look it, friend.”


    “I’m managing,” Sarien replied, wiping a trickle of sweat away from the side of his face with the sleeve of his new coat of spun gray wool. They walked past a part of the collapsed wall. They were met with a vista of the destruction of Fyrie below. The raging fires that scorched all in its path were only now being extinguished under the guidance of allied pyromancers, hydromancers, and able-bodied men and women. Sarien watched as buckets filled with water from the river were passed down a long unbroken chain of soot-covered folk.


    The monstrous horde fled a full day ago.


    Goslin stopped, placing a hand on Sarien’s shoulder. “Tell me if there’s anything I can do.”


    “You’ve done plenty. Without you, I’d be gone. Overwhelmed by the gray.”


    Goslin squeezed, then let go and continued down the corridor. Men and women scurried around them. The whole keep buzzed with activity, with everyone busily doing their part to restore the city to its former glory.


    They fell into silence as they walked, and Sarien went back to devoting his full attention to the task that kept him up around the clock. The Eldians and all their allies might have won the day, but that did not mean Wyndemir had been stopped entirely. The god’s arm hung from an opening in the sky, a giant hand limp against the earth. A will greater than anything Sarien could comprehend still pushed against the fabric connecting all worlds. The wayfaring. If Sarien’s control slipped, that would be it. The gray flame churned inside him in a constant, raging swirl, but he endured.


    Soon, he would be free of this burden. Soon, he would be able to sleep, to breathe.


    “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”


    Sarien was unable to meet his friend’s steadfast gaze. “It’s the only way.”


    “Are you sure?” Goslin asked. “The enemy is amassing nearby. Another attack is imminent. We could use your new power in the fight. Everyone saw what you did to the army of monsters outside the walls.”


    People stared as he passed by, a mixture of fear and awe. The attention made him uncomfortable, and he tugged at his collar. A sheen of sweat formed as he passed more wide-eyed stares, and he undid the top button of his tunic, seeking relief. None came.


    “If I don’t leave and find out the cause of all this, Wyndemir will whittle us down to nothing.”


    Goslin nodded. Sarien knew that his friend understood his reasoning. They’d spoken at length about it the night before. “I just wish you didn’t have to leave my side again so soon.”


    “You and me both,” Sarien agreed, as they strode into a room.


    Despite the lack of furniture, the room they entered was cramped. Everyone from their group sat on the floor, their backs against the walls, and their legs splayed out before them.


    “Not the grandest of locations for a meeting such as this, is it?” Goslin asked, the somber look in his eyes betraying the forced mirth in his tone.


    “They’re sending a message to you, former lordling,” Kax said. “The nobility is no longer important enough to warrant proper accommodations.”


    Goslin lowered himself down to sit next to Emeryn. He took her hand in his.


    Sarien plopped down on the floor beside Tomford.


    “Goslin, how did it go with Landé?” Emeryn asked.


    The leader of the rebellion and the newly formed Eldian allied forces weren’t present.


    A shadow passed over Goslin’s face. “The allied forces denied my petition. Former lords will not be allowed to present themselves as candidates in the upcoming elections. The interim council told me we’ve had our time.”


    Emeryn tucked a strand of long, fiery hair behind her ear. “I’m sure they will come to their senses soon enough.”


    “At least you can make sure no more monsters enter Fyrie,” Lana said. She sat hunched down in the corner, picking at her nails with a dagger conjured out of white light.


    “It is good to see you all,” Tomford said, “but there are those still suffering and could use a healer. Why did you call us here, Goslin?”


    Silence fell as they recalled that not all of them were gathered. They’d lost two members from their original party. Hart, who was the first to fall, when he was killed by the bloodthirsty mimic beast. Now, Heylien.


    No one was sure what he’d been doing on top of the city wall, but he’d been found with the life gone from his piercing eyes, his bow still clutched in his burned hands. The funeral had been a small and quiet affair.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Goslin cleared his throat. “Actually, I didn’t call you here. It was Sarien.”


    All eyes turned to Sarien, who felt heat rising in his face. Forcefully pushing the awkwardness down, he began, “We need to decide what our next steps will be.”


    “Wyndemir,” Tomford said matter-of-factly.


    “Yes,” Sarien said. “But not just Wyndemir. This encompasses more than him. Something is wrong out there.” He waved a hand around his head.


    “You’re not speaking of Fyrie, or even Maydian, are you?” Emeryn asked.


    “No.” They understood. “I need to leave again, but I don’t want to go alone this time.”


    “Myn and Emiril aren’t here,” Lana grunted. “Will you be taking them?”


    “No. I’ve already talked to them, and they have their own tasks in Maydian. Freyn too. It took some doing, but I’ve brought her back here from Havet.”


    “Out with it then,” Kax said. His form was no longer that of a dark void, but he’d not spoken of how or why he’d returned to his old self.


    Goslin nodded encouragingly. “Just tell us what you need.”


    Sarien looked at each of them in turn, then said, “Kax, I’ll need you with me.”


    Goslin’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.


    “I’m going to need a few of you to travel to the dark continent and find the other imprisoned gods, and Taera.”


    “I’ll go,” Emeryn said, without hesitation.


    Sarien nodded. “You’ll go, along with Tomford.”


    Lana glanced up from her white dagger. “What about me?”


    “You’ll stay here. I need someone I can trust to keep the rhinn travelers safe. They’ll be taking over the task of holding Wyndemir in my place.”


    “Are they really up to the task?” Goslin asked.


    “They’ll have to be. We don’t have a choice.”


    Sarien watched as Goslin tightened his hold on Emeryn’s hand. “I’ll need to stay here too, won’t I?”


    “There are monsters on Fyrie’s doorstep, as well as a giant arm dangling out of the sky. Someone needs to keep an eye on that now that Landé is busying himself with the election.”


    The group spoke for a little while longer. Time was running out, and they all had their tasks set before them. Sarien explained what little he knew of the other gods’ prisons and shared his even smaller kernel of knowledge on how to deal with Taera.


    With the incredible pressure on the wayfaring, Sarien couldn’t send them directly to their destinations via a gateway. Wade promised to see Emeryn and Tomford across the sea. Sarien hoped that Emeryn would be able to find Taera once they’d set foot on the dark continent.


    Sarien couldn’t explain it, not even to himself, why they would need the other gods. His intuition told him that they did. Their plans were bound together with hope and wild speculation. It was the best they could do.


    The biggest unknown of them all was the journey he would undertake. His parents were connected to this somehow. His father had lit the signal. The construct still glowed in his pocket.


    Ein needed his help.


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    * * *


    Their entire future hinged upon what happened next. Sarien stood observing hundreds of rhinn travelers, both men and women, sitting tightly in neat rows. All eyes were on him as he spoke. The rhinn passed his words along to those behind them until everyone received his instructions.


    “When I pass the burden to you, it will come as a shock. Spread it out evenly amongst all of you. Without your help, everything will have been in vain. Please stay vigilant and keep together.” All those anxious eyes knew what was about to happen. Why they trusted him, Sarien had no clue, but he saw it in their faces. They did trust him. The cabal of rhinn leaders, the clergy, and even their own god had betrayed them. Used them. Still, they trusted a stranger.


    Sarien would never betray them, but he could not help but use them.


    “Seize hold of your wayfaring!” he shouted and immediately sensed the rhinn before him taking a grasp of their inner powers. He hoped that hundreds of weak, flickering flames would equal his own.


    Sarien held his breath as he linked his own power to the rhinn before him. He sensed the weakness of their power, and it disheartened him. He hoped their large numbers would make up the difference. What these rhinn lacked in raw strength, they made up in tenacity.


    Anxiously, Sarien eased the burden he’d carried alone the last few days onto the awaiting rhinn. Several fell limp to the ground in the first instant as Wyndemir flexed and tested his strength against his former subjects, but the rest withstood the assault with quiet determination. They needed to hold out until Sarien returned, or all of Maydian was lost.


    He watched them carefully, ready to jump back in if they showed a hint of cracking under the strain.


    They held on.


    Unburdened, Sarien straightened and breathed a sigh of relief. The first step of his plan had worked. He gave the rhinn a nod of appreciation. It was time to leave Maydian, this time of his own free will.


    “That’s it then, you’re done?” Kax asked. He’d been shadowing Sarien since the meeting, ready to leave at a moment’s notice.


    “I’m done. Everyone knows their part going forward, so there is no use in stalling.”


    “Let’s go see your dad!” Excitement shone in Kax’s face. It was good to be able to see him properly again. He hadn’t said much about what happened when Sarien transported him to Ben, only that Sarien’s childhood friend was dead. Ben had been dead a long time, from the very beginning when he’d thought he saved him with his white flame. From that moment on, someone wore Ben’s body like a suit. A horrible mistake by Sarien that Kax helped to correct.


    With an image of his father and mother firmly fixed in his mind, and his need to see them at the forefront, Sarien struggled to pull on the wayfaring. Every ounce of power within him quested out into the strange world between worlds.


    In the past, the wayfaring allowed him to locate his intended destination. Only this time, it didn’t. The single path diverged into two. His parents were not together.


    Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the chilly air. He kept his eyes firmly shut as he concentrated on which path to take.


    Ein signaled the need for help. He should find his father first.


    Only, down the other path was his mother. He ached to meet her, yet anger blossomed in his chest. How dare she leave Sarien and his father?


    Sarien took a tentative step down the path toward his mother, and his mind and power struck a solid invisible wall. No matter what he tried or how much force he mustered, the way was closed to him.


    With a sigh, he forced an opening in the wayfaring to his father, Ein the Godslayer. Sarien gritted his teeth and tore an opening in Maydian and connected it to their intended destination. He shoved Kax through and barely stepped past the opening before the gateway crashed in on itself.


    Whoever was working against Maydian was incredibly strong. It was not Wyndemir pushing on his bounds, or not him alone. Others helped and Sarien had a sinking feeling he knew who it might be.


    Disoriented, Sarien stood in a field of grass stretching as far as he could see in all directions. The sun was high overhead.


    One structure stood in the near distance, an enormous building at least twice the size of the keep in Fyrie. The entirety of its exterior looked to be created from flat panes of dark glass. It reminded him of the dense blackness of the void.


    A heavy gate stood blown open, one of the doors hanging precariously from its hinges. From all appearances, they’d found their way to a prison. Only, this one could no longer keep anyone, or anything, within its walls.