《Koch - A Soldier's Tale》 The Zero Regiment Chapter 1 ¨C The Zero Regiment My name is Koch. No surname¡ªhaven¡¯t taken one yet. That means I¡¯m not married. I¡¯m a soldier of the Sheer Cold Empire, part of the Zero Regiment. A specialist unit. We handle the jobs no one else can. Or wants to. I used to be a high elf. At least, that¡¯s what I think. Now, I¡¯m Coldian. Have been for a decade. I started in the XVIII Regiment, but it didn¡¯t take long for them to figure out I wasn¡¯t much for working in a crowd. That¡¯s how I ended up here. The Zero Regiment is for those of us who work best alone or in pairs¡ªspies, assassins, couriers, scouts. We serve the Empire¡¯s hierarchy in whatever capacity they demand, whether that¡¯s delivering a message, standing watch, or eliminating a target. In my years of service, I¡¯ve done all of it. And now, apparently, I have to write this. Some kind of travelogue. A record of my life from this moment until¡­ whenever someone decides they¡¯ve read enough. The year is 1386 DC. I haven¡¯t been on a mission in seven months. Seven months of waiting. Seven months of nothing. I won¡¯t sit idle any longer. If no one¡¯s going to send me out, I¡¯ll go find the orders myself. ¡°You know, sometimes I think you¡¯re the most beautiful person I¡¯ve ever seen. Other times, the ugliest,¡± said Manach. Manach is my partner. Coldian like me, though he used to be high elf. Agile, fast-talking, unstoppable at any game of chance¡ªbecause he cheats. He¡¯s been my duo since I joined Zero Regiment. ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡± I asked. He twirled a dagger between his fingers, smirking. ¡°We Coldians love our armor. Hardly ever take it off. But I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen you without it, and we¡¯ve been at this together for, what, ten years now?¡± He wasn¡¯t wearing his armor. Most Coldians don¡¯t, unless duty calls. His pale skin was scarred, his lean body built for speed rather than brute strength. ¡°There¡¯s not much to see,¡± I said, voice flat, rasping. ¡°That¡¯s a dull conversation. I¡¯m going to get us a job. Commander Licht might have something. You coming?¡± ¡°Nah. I don¡¯t like Licht. Too disciplined.¡± Manach flicked his dagger back into its sheath and walked away. I nodded and went my own way, toward the Citadel. I always found myself admiring it. The seat of power in the Sheer Cold Empire, the great fortress of our god, the Sheer Cold Reaper¡ªDominatarh. Or Domino, as most called him. Built in just four days, an entire city within a city. Not a place for civilians. A place for rulers, mages, enchanters, warriors, investigators¡ªeveryone who mattered. But I wasn¡¯t here for them. I was here for Licht. He worked out of the barracks near the Citadel. That was my destination. The walk took hours. By the time I reached the training grounds, the barracks were alive with the sounds of drills¡ªswords clashing, orders shouted, warriors pushing themselves to their limits. I envied them. ¡°Soldier. Come here.¡± The voice was deep, commanding. Impossible to ignore. I turned and found myself staring up¡ªfar up¡ªat a figure three times my size. General Zaah. The Champion of Sheer Cold. Supreme Commander of the Empire¡¯s armies. ¡°Yes, sir,¡± I said, snapping to attention. ¡°At ease,¡± he rumbled, placing one massive hand on my shoulder. The weight of it was enough to make me feel like he could crush me¡ªhelmet and all¡ªwith just two fingers. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°Koch, sir.¡± Zaah¡¯s grip tightened, just slightly. ¡°Good. I have a job for you.¡± I followed Zaah toward the Citadel, my pace steady, my thoughts measured. I¡¯d only been inside twice before¡ªnever past the entrance hall. This time was different. We climbed staircases that spiraled upward, endless. Passed doors, corridors, and chambers filled with things beyond my understanding. Artifacts. Relics. Devices I didn¡¯t have the words to describe. The Citadel wasn¡¯t just a fortress; it was a world unto itself. Zaah led me into a meeting chamber just outside the main council room. My pulse quickened. This was where the real power sat. The ones who could shape the world with a word. Even in my wildest imaginings, I wouldn¡¯t stand a chance against them. Zaah pointed at a chair. ¡°Sit.¡± I obeyed without question, lowering myself into the seat. With measured respect, I removed my helmet, setting it down on the polished mahogany table. Expensive. A luxury. My shield and sword followed, placed carefully to my side. Then I waited. Zaah dropped a file in front of me and took a seat across the table. ¡°So, Koch,¡± he said, his tone casual, almost bored. ¡°Been on many missions?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say many, sir. Just enough.¡± My voice came out low, steady. Zaah nodded. ¡°Ever track anyone down?¡± I straightened. ¡°Had a few jobs like that, yes.¡± ¡°Good. Perfect.¡± Zaah leaned back. ¡°Drink?¡± I blinked. ¡°I¡¯d love a drink, General.¡± Not every day you got to sit and share a drink with the supreme commander of the Sheer Cold armies. He poured a deep amber liquid¡ªdwarven ale, strong stuff. I took a sip, enjoying the warmth that settled in my chest. For a few minutes, the conversation drifted. Small talk. How was the job? Favorite mission? Ever been married? Then Zaah¡¯s tone shifted. ¡°Koch.¡± His voice hardened. ¡°Enough chit-chat. You¡¯re with the Zero Regiment, correct? Duo?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± His helmeted gaze locked onto me. ¡°I need you to find a missing Coldian.¡± ¡°Of course, sir.¡± I hesitated. ¡°How long has he been missing?¡± Zaah exhaled through his nose. ¡°Three months.¡± He sounded unimpressed. ¡°To be honest, he¡¯s a nobody. A rank-and-file soldier. But the Sheer Cold Code obliges us to find him. Or at least, find out what became of him.¡± My fingers brushed the file on the table. ¡°This is about him?¡± ¡°Yes. Name¡¯s Sioh, I think. I don¡¯t know the details.¡± Zaah shifted, already half-standing. ¡°You accept?¡± ¡°Yes, sir. Thank you for the opportunity.¡± I rose, collecting my gear. Zaah had already moved toward the door. I could tell he wanted this done and forgotten. Just another task off his list. Maybe he had bigger concerns. I hoped so. I¡¯d been in that room for barely twenty minutes. As I walked away, searching for a quiet place to study the file, a thought nagged at me. Something wasn¡¯t right. Every Coldian had a rune of telepathic communication, linked to the runic relay at the Citadel. If we left Sheer Cold territory, we were required to check in daily, always at the same hour we departed. Three missed days in a row, and the Code of the Sheer Cold dictated a response. That was the law. Three days. Sioh had been missing for three months. Peculiar. I found a quiet spot at the edge of the woods, away from passing soldiers, workers, and travelers¡ªa small tree standing alone, its branches skeletal in the cold. Solitude. I sat beneath it, placed my gear beside me, and pulled out the file. Just two papers inside. The first page held the subject¡¯s details. Sioh Coldnose. I grimaced. A Coldian chose their surname upon marriage, a tradition. Coldnose? An unfortunate choice. Sioh had been a soldier in the CLXII Regiment, once human before the transformation. Tall, pale-haired, amber-eyed. Nothing unusual there. Most Coldians had the same spectral look. Married four months ago to a woman named Rechna Coldfeet. Another unfortunate name. That was all¡ªjust the barest facts of his existence. The second page explained the situation. Sioh had been granted leave for a single month to take his wife on a honeymoon. That was four months ago. He had never returned. Never checked in. His last known location: The Silent Sun City. That was it. I folded the papers, tucking them back into the file. The Silent Sun. A place that had little love for my kind. Not long ago, we had been at war with them. That would make things difficult. I needed Manach¡¯s insight. He had a way of picking out details others missed. ¡°You know,¡± came a voice from the bushes, smooth and smug, ¡°if I didn¡¯t know you, I¡¯d think you were avoiding me.¡± Manach. ¡°Maybe I am.¡± I glanced up at him. ¡°I was just thinking about you.¡± He wrinkled his nose. ¡°Ugh. I know I attract people, but I¡¯m more into women, thanks.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not¡ª¡± I shook my head. ¡°Forget it.¡± He nodded toward the file in my hands. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I gave him the short version. The job. The mission. The peculiar gaps in protocol. He listened, took the file, and skimmed it. His eyes lingered on the cover. ¡°Three months,¡± he muttered. ¡°And the file was written by a Frost Mage, not a Coldian. That¡¯s odd. That¡¯s not protocol.¡± ¡°Frost Mage?¡± My attention sharpened. Manach smirked. ¡°And here I thought Koch, master of details, never missed a thing. Look at the cover. The name¡¯s right there¡ªAurelia.¡± I took the file back, glancing at the name. He was right. ¡°Who is Aurelia?¡± I asked. Manach shrugged. ¡°No idea. But the mark here? School of Frostbite. Could be worth asking around.¡± Of course, by ¡®asking around,¡¯ he meant me asking around. I could already see it in the way he shifted his weight, itching to be elsewhere. ¡°And you?¡± I asked. ¡°What are you going to do?¡± He smiled, flicking his dagger between his fingers. ¡°I have some¡­ debts that need settling.¡± I knew that tone. Knew better than to ask. Illegal, most likely. Dangerous, definitely. But it wasn¡¯t my business, and I didn¡¯t care. ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m not moving without you. We need a plan. You settle your business, I¡¯ll prep our gear. Meet me tomorrow?¡± Manach just nodded and slipped back into the shadows of the trees. I watched him go, then stood, adjusting my equipment. I returned to the barracks. Home, if you could call it that. The Zero Regiment¡¯s quarters sat near the Citadel, a towering block of stone and frost. Less a barracks, more a fortress. Every soldier had their own room¡ªsmall, spartan, just enough space for a bed, a chest, and a nightstand. The successful ones bought their own homes. That was a goal. Something to work toward. Manach¡¯s room was near mine. I knew where he kept his key. I let myself in. Bare walls. Sparse furniture. But his travel gear was still there, meaning he hadn¡¯t yet packed. I gathered it up and took it back to my own quarters. Once everything was prepared, I sat by the window, watching the snow drift past the towers of the Citadel. I had a feeling¡ªone of those gut-turning suspicions that never led to anything good. Something about this job didn¡¯t line up. Three months missing, no official notice, a Frost Mage¡ªnot a Coldian¡ªfiling the report. And Sioh¡¯s wife? Why hadn¡¯t she posted his disappearance? Why hadn¡¯t the regiment? Too many questions. No answers. But the job wasn¡¯t to uncover a conspiracy. It was to find Sioh. Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe this was nothing. I exhaled, forced my mind to quiet, and let sleep take me. I dreamed. That was rare. I never remembered my dreams. But this one was vivid, sharp as a knife. I wasn¡¯t a Coldian in the dream. I stood in a bustling kitchen, fire roaring in the hearth, knives flashing, voices shouting. I was giving orders, cooking, moving from station to station. The scent of something rich and unfamiliar filled the air. I was happy, frustrated, focused. Cooking. I had always been good at it. Had a knack. Everything I made turned out perfect. But in waking life, I found it dull. Boring. Here, in the dream, it felt like everything. I woke at dawn, the silence of the barracks a comfort. Then¡ªBANG, BANG. A heavy knock. Someone using their boot. I sat up, rolled my shoulders, and opened the door. Manach stood there, fully armored. That meant one of two things¡ªhe was either too eager to leave, or he was hiding an injury. ¡°Let¡¯s get some tea,¡± he said. His voice was tight, his expression hard. No jokes. No grins. He¡¯d been in a fight. I didn¡¯t press. Just nodded, murmured a calm good morning, and grabbed my gear. We found a quiet tavern, ordered raisin tea, poured in something stronger. Manach needed it. ¡°I¡¯m not going to ask,¡± I said, watching him closely, ¡°but I need to know¡ªis it done?¡± ¡°It¡¯s done.¡± He sipped his tea. ¡°And we¡¯ve got enough money for a three-month journey.¡± I took that to mean it had been messy. Best not to pry. I leaned forward. ¡°You¡¯ve given thought to our route?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± He set his cup down. ¡°First, we question the wife. Then we chart a path to the Silent Sun. And I wrote a letter.¡± I raised a brow. ¡°A letter?¡± Manach met my gaze. ¡°This isn¡¯t a standard job. You know it. I know it. Something¡¯s off. But we need to stay above board. So I wrote to the higher-ups, requesting permission to investigate alongside the search. Official approval.¡± Smart. And right. I nodded. ¡°Alright. You take the map, chart the route. I¡¯ll take the letter to the Citadel.¡± I stood, adjusting my belt. ¡°Meet you at the wife¡¯s place in an hour?¡± Manach gave me a firm nod. I left, stepping into the cold. Time to get answers. The walk to the Citadel should have been uneventful. Instead, it felt wrong. The streets were quieter than they should have been. Shops, bound by working hours, remained shut. Those who were out moved like shadows, speaking in hushed voices¡ªor not at all. Reactions varied. Some looked shaken. Others excited. Some unreadable. Then I saw why. Six regiments. Fully armored, weapons at the ready, officers standing tall at the front. That was war. Five or fewer, and it would have been a raid. Six meant something larger. The rule wasn¡¯t absolute, but it held true often enough. I pushed forward, threading my way to the edge of the gathered soldiers. On the platform above them stood Commander Licht. Tall. Muscular. Coldian through and through. The perfect soldier, if such a thing existed. His horned helmet shimmered with frost magic, and the massive sword strapped to his back looked like it had been forged in the heart of a glacier. Licht didn¡¯t waste breath on anything beyond war. Tactics. Soldier maintenance. Campaign logistics. Discipline. He was the kind of leader who knew every law, every regulation, as if he had written them himself. And yet, for all his presence, it wasn¡¯t Licht who made my skin prickle. It was the figure beneath the platform. A monster. Twice my size. Fang. Leader of the Razorclaws. One of the ruling Council members of the Sheer Cold Empire. A Lychen by race, a werewolf of unnatural stature, wrapped in battered deathplate armor. His pale fur bore more scars than most men had bones. And he loved war. The Razorclaws and Bloodclaws were both part of the Empire¡¯s structure, but there was no mistaking what they truly were¡ªwarmongers. Allies, yes, but dangerous. Always dangerous. I forced myself to listen. ¡°Now, in the name of the Sheer Cold! In the name of the Cold One¡ªmarch!¡± Licht¡¯s voice carried across the city like a storm wind. The Coldian regiments slammed their shields as one. A thunderclap of steel and resolve. The sound made my blood itch. Even I felt the urge to march with them. Then the army moved. A tide of disciplined bodies, falling into step as they headed south. Toward Golden Village. I frowned. That was odd. Golden Village was human territory. A minor settlement. Just a few hundred people. Outside of Sheer Cold borders. Not a military target. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. So why? The undead? A hidden threat? I pushed the question aside. Not my concern. Not now. What was my concern was Licht marching with them. That meant no approval from him. I needed another option. As the last soldiers left the square, the city stirred back to life. Shops unlocked. People emerged. Life moved on. I reached the Citadel gates. Closed. That meant one of two things. Either a threat had surfaced inside Coldian lands. Or the Council was in session. A Coldian archer stood nearby, leaning against a pillar. ¡°Archer!¡± I called. ¡°Is the entrance completely closed?¡± He barely turned his head. ¡°Aye. Council.¡± Damn. That left me with very few choices. I scanned the area, trying to decide what to do next. That¡¯s when I saw him. And my gut sank. A tall figure. Humanoid, but wrong. His body rippled, coated in a shifting, viscous darkness that clung to him like living tar. His left arm was monstrous¡ªtwisted with scales and tendrils of void-black corruption. His right? Almost disturbingly normal. Human. Shadathor. Prince of Darkness. A Council member. One of the most feared beings alive. Some whispered that he was as powerful as the Cold One himself, Dominatarh. Every instinct screamed at me to walk away. But I needed this approval. And I had no one else to turn to. I forced my legs to move. Forced myself forward. Then I bowed, dropping to one knee. ¡°Master Shadathor,¡± I said, keeping my voice even. ¡°If I may¡ª¡± He walked past me. Ignored me completely. Something in me flared¡ªannoyance, maybe desperation. I turned, about to try again¡ª And he was already there. Right in front of me. Looking through my mask. Looking through me. His eyes burned like red embers, staring into my soul. And I saw it. Myself¡ªshredded, torn apart. My limbs ripped from their sockets. My body broken and remade in agony. ¡°You spoke to me,¡± he said. His voice was cold. Final. ¡°When you were not allowed.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°Then you tried again.¡± I felt my breath hitch. ¡°Either you wish for death, or you have something worth my time.¡± He tilted his head slightly. ¡°Something that will stop me from feeding you to the Void.¡± I couldn¡¯t think. Couldn¡¯t breathe. But somehow, I spoke. ¡°Y-y-yes, well¡ª¡± My throat locked up. My knees felt weak. He stepped closer. The air around him was wrong. Not rot. Not decay. Something worse. A scent like a dying rose¡ªfragile beauty, withering under corruption. ¡°My presence is required in the Council,¡± he said. ¡°If you have words, speak them. Now.¡± His tone darkened. ¡°Or be gone.¡± I forced the words out. ¡°Master Shade¡­ I have this letter. It requires approval from someone in the hierarchy so I can conduct my business.¡± For a moment, silence. Then¡ª ¡°A letter?¡± His voice shifted. ¡°A LETTER?¡± His very presence darkened. ¡°Of all the meaningless things you could have done, this is what you bring to me?¡± His crimson gaze burned. ¡°Out of all the miserable nobodies you could have approached, you chose me?¡± Dark tendrils coiled around his demonic hand. ¡°This level of insolence demands punishment.¡± His voice deepened, seeping into my bones. ¡°An eternity of torment.¡± I saw it. My death. I had been stupid. Everyone knew not to cross Shadathor. Then, suddenly, his head tilted. Like he was listening to something. A moment later¡ªhe was gone. Vanished into the shadows. I let out a slow, shaking breath. I had come so close to ceasing to exist. I was an idiot. A lucky idiot. But now what? I found myself sitting. Not by choice. My legs had buckled beneath me, and now I was just there, hunched on the ground like a man who had barely survived a storm. My knees still shook, my breath was uneven, and my entire body felt wrong. I had never felt fear like that before. Paralyzing fear. Not the rush of battle. Not the thrill of danger. Something worse. It had crept into my bones, lodged itself in my mind like a thick fog, filling my thoughts with a single, heavy question¡ª What just happened? My hands trembled. My heart pounded. I stared at nothing, trying to piece myself back together. And then¡ª A growl. My stomach. For a moment, the sheer absurdity of it cut through the terror. Near-death. Soul-crushing fear. And my body still reminded me it needed food. I let out a weak chuckle. Just a small one. But it was enough. Enough to shake me from the fog, just a little. Enough to remind me that I was alive. I took a breath, grabbed my things, and tucked the letter securely into my pouch. There was no rush. I needed a break. And I needed food. I set off toward Wolf¡¯s Bane. Wolf¡¯s Bane stood just outside the Citadel, nestled deep within Sheer Cold¡¯s heartland. An hour¡¯s walk, give or take. A city split in two. The first half belonged to the Bloodclaw clan¡ªlychen scholars, mages, intellectuals. This part of the city was a place of knowledge and refinement. Libraries, research facilities, and spellcraft workshops dominated the skyline. The greatest of them all was the Muskwater Library, named after the river that curled protectively around it. It held the largest collection of knowledge in the territory. The Bloodclaws were masters of arcane magic, especially illusion. They were dangerous, but not in the way most warriors thought. Then there was the other side of Wolf¡¯s Bane. Razorclaw territory. Where the Bloodclaws built halls of knowledge, the Razorclaws built arenas. Where the Bloodclaws studied ancient texts, the Razorclaws drank and fought. This part of the city was all sharp angles and rough edges¡ªbars, fighting pits, and strange, haphazard homes thrown together with little thought for beauty. At its center stood Prey House. A looming, brutalist mansion belonging to Fang himself. It wasn¡¯t just a home. It was a legend. Here, the most dangerous bounties in the world were posted. Some came from rulers, others from criminal syndicates, but all of them were deadly. Bounty hunters from every nation visited, drawn by the high stakes and high rewards. But I wasn¡¯t here for that. I was here for breakfast. Coldians were warriors, strategists, perfectionists¡ªbut we couldn¡¯t cook for shit. Food in our ranks was utilitarian at best, abysmal at worst. That¡¯s why we imported it. And in Wolf¡¯s Bane, there was a market stall in Bloodclaw territory that sold northern food¡ªdried fish and delicate pastries. Simple. Satisfying. Edible. As I walked, my thoughts drifted back to the job. I needed to find Manach. Whatever we did next, we had to do it together. Even if we met Rechna, we couldn¡¯t question her without approval. The letter was clear. We were only authorized to track down Sioh and conduct business outside Sheer Cold¡¯s borders. Anything beyond that? We needed permission. Which meant I needed to rethink our approach. I made a slight detour, hoping to intercept Manach before he disappeared on some errand. For once, luck was on my side. I spotted him up ahead, talking to a few men. By the time I got closer, they had already gone, leaving him alone¡ªwaiting. He saw me before I even opened my mouth. ¡°You¡¯re done already?¡± he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°Or did you get lost?¡± I scowled. ¡°Shut up and walk with me. You wouldn¡¯t believe what just happened.¡± I grabbed his arm and pulled him along. ¡°Where are we going?¡± he asked. ¡°Wolf¡¯s Bane. We¡¯re eating first.¡± He yanked his arm free, frowning. ¡°And the letter? The job?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll explain on the way,¡± I said, my voice serious. Something in my tone made him pause. He studied me for a moment, then nodded. ¡°Fine.¡± And with that, we walked. As we made our way to Wolf¡¯s Bane, I told him everything. ¡°What the actual fuck.¡± Manach laughed, shaking his head. ¡°You were gone for half an hour.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not funny,¡± I said flatly. ¡°Oh, it is funny.¡± He grinned. ¡°Big bad Koch¡ªoff to get a letter signed, comes back with soiled pants.¡± He chuckled again. ¡°That¡¯s comedy.¡± ¡°Like you would¡¯ve handled it better,¡± I muttered. Manach smirked. ¡°No, no¡ªtrust me. I¡¯d have gotten the signature, wrapped up the job, grabbed us food, and still had time to wait for you while you were still charting the path on a damn map.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Speaking of which¡ªdid you finish charting the path?¡± He stopped walking. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter.¡± That meant no. I exhaled, but before I could call him out, the treeline ahead thinned. The sight of Wolf¡¯s Bane stretched before us. The city pulsed with life. Lychen bustled about their business, running errands, moving supplies. Coldians walked among them, their rigid discipline at odds with the casual, almost chaotic flow of the Bloodclaw streets. Stalls stood open, traders barking offers, the scent of fresh-baked goods and smoked meat curling through the air. No danger. No threats. A rare moment of peace. We made a straight line for our target¡ªa simple market stall in Bloodclaw territory, the one place where you could get real food instead of the rations we suffered back home. We paid, took our food, and settled at an outer table. Manach cut his meal into neat little portions with his dagger, stabbing a piece and popping it into his mouth with exaggerated refinement. A noble¡¯s performance¡ªmocking, but precise. I rolled my eyes and muttered through a mouthful of food, ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan now?¡± ¡°We can¡¯t leave without approval. Would be pointless. There¡¯s more to this job than we know.¡± He twirled his dagger absently before spearing another bite. ¡°I know that. But with the Council ongoing and this whole war effort¡­ who¡¯s even left to give us approval?¡± Manach shrugged. ¡°Can¡¯t we just wait for the Council to finish?¡± Could we? I frowned. ¡°We could, but we¡¯d still need to find someone after that.¡± Manach studied me, his expression shifting. He knew what I was thinking. The real problem wasn¡¯t waiting¡ªthe real problem was access. The top brass? Impossible to reach. The chain of command? A bureaucratic nightmare. But Manach¡ªhe always had a way. ¡°I know a guy,¡± he said finally. I stopped him right there. ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± He smirked. ¡°You never do.¡± ¡°Because every time you ¡®know a guy,¡¯ one of us ends up needing a healer.¡± He waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Don¡¯t wor¡ª¡± ¡°Nope.¡± ¡°Listen¡ª¡± I sighed. ¡°Yup. One of us is going to need a healer.¡± Manach leaned forward. ¡°Look, let¡¯s stock up. Then we meet the guy. You get final say. After that, we figure out our next move once we have approval.¡± I opened my mouth to argue. Didn¡¯t get the chance. ¡°Awesome!¡± Manach shot up from his seat, already moving. He strode to the stall and started ordering supplies¡ªfood, water, rations¡ªpaying in gold and silver like it was nothing. I watched him work, exhaling slowly. Maybe this was the day I died. Wouldn¡¯t be the first time I had that feeling around him. But still¡ªI followed. As he loaded up, I asked, ¡°At least tell me the guy¡¯s name.¡± Manach grinned. ¡°Ruhk.¡± We walked for hours. Neither of us spoke much. Just the basics¡ªtravel, terrain, distance. The Ashridden Forest stretched around us, vast and undisturbed. A gentle breeze whispered through the trees, rustling the canopy in a way that settled my nerves. The tension from earlier still lingered, but the walk was almost peaceful. Almost. The deeper we went, the more my mind wandered. Who was Ruhk? The name had Coldian weight to it, but why was he so far north? There were no settlements here¡ªjust wilderness. My gut, always sharper than I gave it credit for, supplied the answer. Manach was shady. Always had been. That meant the people he associated with were worse. This Ruhk, whoever he was, had to be hiding something¡ªsomething bad. Otherwise, he wouldn¡¯t be out here, far beyond where anyone could stumble upon him by accident. I felt it in my bones. But I followed anyway. We pressed on in silence until I finally broke it. ¡°Is this guy really this far north?¡± Manach didn¡¯t even slow down. ¡°No idea.¡± I stopped walking. ¡°Wait, then why the fuck are we heading this way?¡± He turned, grinning. ¡°We don¡¯t find him. He finds us.¡± I stared at him. ¡°Come on, Koch¡ªhave a little faith.¡± Faith. Faith. The last time Manach told me to have faith, we were in the Hinterlands. He had me jump a cliff in full armor. Said I¡¯d make it. Said it was easy. I missed. Broke my leg, my ribs, both arms. Three weeks of urgent care. I still didn¡¯t remember most of it. And now he was asking for faith again? I sighed. But I followed. Eventually, we reached a clearing. Tall trees loomed overhead, their trunks marked with carved sigils¡ªAncient Reaper script, complex and unfamiliar. I recognized the language but couldn¡¯t read it. My primary tongue was Elven, my secondary was modern Reaper, but Ancient Reaper? That was another beast entirely. Too convoluted. Too intricate. Still, I knew one thing. These weren¡¯t just markers. They were ritual sigils. ¡°What do they say?¡± I asked. Manach shrugged. ¡°No clue. But there¡¯s a treehouse nearby. Look for a ladder.¡± He pushed forward, moving between the trees like he already knew the way. I didn¡¯t like this¡ªany of it¡ªbut I was already here. A few minutes later, I found it. A wooden ladder, nailed into the trunk of a massive tree, stretching up into the branches. ¡°Over here,¡± I called. Manach clapped his hands. ¡°Then don¡¯t just stand there¡ªclimb.¡± I gritted my teeth and started up. The ladder led to a small trapdoor, shut but not locked. I pushed it open and pulled myself inside. The room was cluttered. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with tomes, scrolls, and scattered, half-destroyed notes. Loose parchment littered the floor¡ªsome so worn and brittle they crumbled underfoot. Arcane items sat haphazardly on tables, their glow faint but wrong. The air itself felt charged, like the residue of a spell still clung to the wood. I exhaled, glancing around. I knew what this was. ¡°Coldian mage,¡± I muttered. ¡°Forbidden arts. Ritual magic. Anything I¡¯m missing?¡± Manach hauled himself up through the trapdoor and dusted off his coat. He gave me an approving nod. ¡°Actually, no. I¡¯m impressed.¡± I smirked. ¡°You should be.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t push it.¡± He glanced around, scanning the room, then spoke as he started searching. ¡°Look for a book. No writing on the cover, but it¡¯ll have an arcane seal on it.¡± I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Why?¡± Manach rifled through a stack of scrolls. ¡°If we touch it, Ruhk will come. He doesn¡¯t like people messing with it, so he put some kind of spell on it.¡± I froze. ¡°What kind of spell?¡± Manach hesitated. Just for a second. Then, too quickly¡ª ¡°No idea. I don¡¯t mess with magic.¡± Liar. He knew something. And for him to be this cagey, it meant the spell wasn¡¯t some harmless little warning rune. It was something worse. Still, I exhaled and started searching. Because whether I liked it or not, we were already here. We still hadn¡¯t found the book when we heard it¡ªrustling outside. Manach and I locked eyes. No words, no hesitation. He drew his daggers. I unsheathed my sword, shield up over my arm. The climbing noises grew louder. Then the trapdoor creaked. Manach moved first. The moment it cracked open, he kicked it up, yanking whoever was climbing through. I seized them, locked their arms behind their back, and pinned them hard. Manach¡¯s dagger kissed the stranger¡¯s throat. ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± Manach whispered. The intruder didn¡¯t struggle. Heavy armor, no weapons. Coldian. A mage. If this wasn¡¯t Ruhk, then who the fuck was he? He didn¡¯t answer, so I tightened my grip. ¡°Would be wise to talk,¡± I murmured. No fear. No hesitation. ¡°My name is Nacht.¡± Manach got close, too close. ¡°Nacht? What are you doing here?¡± ¡°Master sent me.¡± I felt my stomach tighten. Master? Coldians didn¡¯t have masters. That wasn¡¯t their way. This wasn¡¯t right. A spell, maybe? A binding ritual? ¡°Who¡¯s your master?¡± I asked. Manach chuckled. I shot him a look. He raised his hands in mock apology. ¡°Ruhk,¡± Nacht said simply. I frowned. ¡°Why did he send you?¡± Nacht¡¯s face was unreadable. ¡°To ask if the intruders can speak the Volume of Three.¡± The what? Before I could even process it, Manach answered, ¡°We can.¡± Of course he could. Code words, secret dealings. Typical shady bullshit. I hated it. I let Nacht go. He didn¡¯t react¡ªjust dusted himself off and started cleaning the room like we hadn¡¯t nearly killed him. I turned to Manach. ¡°Volume of Three?¡± ¡°A code of trust,¡± he said. Then, without hesitation, he knocked on wood three times, whistled seven, and coughed once. The air twisted. A portal tore itself open. I felt my stomach churn. I hated portals. I hated teleportation. The sensation of being unmade and reassembled¡ªlike your soul took a moment to catch up with your body. Coldians used it all the time, jumping between realms, but I could never get used to it. And then¡ªhe stepped through. No armor. Pale Coldian features, red eyes burning like embers, a black leather tunic. A short staff in his hand, surrounded by floating arcane crystals humming with energy. His hair, short and silver, shimmered unnaturally¡ªmagic radiating from him like heat from a forge. Manach grinned. ¡°Ruhk, you¡¯re a hard man to find, but an easy one to lure.¡± So this was Ruhk. The mage¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change. His voice was smooth, wise, but laced with steel. ¡°I should have known a pathetic swindler like you would come crawling back.¡± He folded his arms. ¡°You owe me five thousand gold, Manach. I assume you came to pay your debt.¡± Five thousand? How the hell did Manach rack up that kind of money? ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Vizier Ruhk. The debt will be paid. But first¡ªbusiness.¡± He motioned toward me. ¡°Meet my associate, Koch.¡± Vizier. That meant something. A Coldian mage of power¡ªsomeone who carried the same weight as a captain of a regiment. I nodded. ¡°A pleasure.¡± Ruhk barely looked at me. ¡°You are unimportant, soldier.¡± His eyes didn¡¯t leave Manach. ¡°Now. Give me my money. Then we talk.¡± As we spoke, Nacht slipped out. Just left. No words, no acknowledgment. Just gone. I wanted to ask about him¡ªwhat the hell he was¡ªbut now wasn¡¯t the time. I kept my mouth shut. Manach sighed, pulled a heavy bag from his pack, and tossed it to Ruhk. It hit the floor with the dull clink of a lot of coin. ¡°Then sit,¡± Ruhk said. And just like that, a table and three chairs materialized in the middle of the room. Magic. I fucking hated magic. We sat. Ruhk leaned back, fingers tapping against his staff. The air shifted. ¡°I don¡¯t want this to take long. Tell me what you want, so I can tell you to fuck off and get back to real business.¡± His tone had changed. The wisdom in his voice faded, replaced by something rougher. Meaner. Manach grinned, flicking one of his daggers between his fingers. A tell. He always did that when he had something planned. ¡°Simple,¡± he said. ¡°We need five thousand gold. I¡¯ll be in your debt. And we need an approval seal, or a meeting with someone higher up.¡± The silence stretched. Then¡ª ¡°Fuck off,¡± Ruhk said, standing up. ¡°Gladly,¡± Manach replied, still grinning. ¡°But not without those things.¡± Ruhk narrowed his eyes. ¡°You insult me, Manach. That¡¯s unlike you.¡± Manach leaned forward. ¡°I don¡¯t insult. I negotiate.¡± ¡°You just paid your debt, and now you¡¯re asking for the money back¡ªplus a favor?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ruhk studied him. Then, slowly¡ªtoo slowly¡ªhe nodded. ¡°What do I get in return?¡± Manach tilted his head. ¡°What do you want?¡± How the hell had this gone from fuck off to let¡¯s make a deal? Ruhk¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°A head.¡± Manach didn¡¯t blink. ¡°Whose?¡± ¡°We have a deal?¡± ¡°We do.¡± Ruhk extended a hand. ¡°Then give me the letter.¡± I slid it over. He barely glanced at it before pressing a seal onto it¡ªan approval seal. From Athion. The Chaos Archon. I felt something tighten in my chest. How the fuck did Ruhk have a direct seal from Athion? Didn¡¯t matter. I wasn¡¯t about to ask. Ruhk met Manach¡¯s gaze. ¡°Once you deliver, you get the gold. If you fail, I hunt you both down.¡± Manach just smirked. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t expect anything less.¡± I finally spoke. ¡°Who¡¯s the target?¡± Manach raised a finger, pressed it to my lips. ¡°Shh.¡± I glared at him. Furious. But I knew this wasn¡¯t my conversation. ¡°Why don¡¯t you step outside,¡± Manach said smoothly, ¡°and let the big boys talk?¡± I wanted to kill them both. But I knew better. I turned and left. Outside the treehouse, the world was still. No Nacht. No sign of anyone. I¡¯d hoped to corner him, pry a few answers out of him, but in truth, I was glad for the quiet. The conversation inside had been beyond me¡ªhalf-spoken, half-understood, a language of glances and gestures. Criminal tongues. Mercenary codes. I let out a slow breath and sat down, leaning back against a nearby tree, letting my muscles relax against the rough bark. Seven months of nothing. Just scraping by, existing from one day to the next. Then, in days, I had a job. I nearly died. I met figures that could unmake me with a thought. And now, I was waiting for my partner to drag us deeper into whatever business this was. Twenty minutes passed. Maybe more. Then Manach climbed down. No words. Just a glance. Something was off. Or maybe he just wanted to talk somewhere quieter. I got up, followed him deeper into the woods. We walked until the treehouse was a memory, until the only sound was the crunch of underbrush beneath our boots. Sunset bled across the sky. We sat. ¡°Talk to me,¡± I said, voice steady. Manach took a breath, then smirked. ¡°I will. Just don¡¯t know where to start.¡± ¡°How about what the hell that was?¡± I shot back. ¡°Business,¡± he said easily, pulling out a flask and taking a sip. Then he handed it to me. ¡°You know I deal with these types. Be glad no one got hurt.¡± I took a drink. Wine. Cheap. But it settled my nerves. He wasn¡¯t wrong. The odds of walking out of that alive were slim. But somehow, somehow, Manach always made it work. ¡°Alright,¡± I exhaled. ¡°No idea what you pulled in there, but we got the money, and we got the approval, I assume?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Manach said. Then, with another grin, ¡°And we got another job. A side-job, if you may.¡± I gave him a look. ¡°Off the record, I suppose?¡± ¡°The best kind,¡± he said, taking another sip. ¡°But it means our trip is¡­ extended.¡± ¡°How much?¡± Manach watched me over the rim of his flask. ¡°Three months, give or take. If both jobs go smooth, we might wrap this up in a year.¡± I shook my head, laughing under my breath. ¡°Honestly? I¡¯m just glad we¡¯re doing something. Even if it¡¯s a mess.¡± Manach chuckled. He passed the wine back, and I took another sip. I could already feel the dullness creeping in. Not drunk. Just softened. While he drank, I started working on a fire. Not for warmth¡ªwe didn¡¯t feel cold. Just light. Just to keep the wild things at bay. ¡°Tomorrow, we head off,¡± Manach said. ¡°We¡¯ve got enough supplies. If we¡¯re missing anything, we¡¯ll pick it up on the road.¡± I nodded, then frowned. ¡°What about the wife?¡± He blinked. ¡°The wife?¡± ¡°Yeah. Rechna. Sioh¡¯s wife. We still need to question her.¡± Manach shook his head. ¡°No can do.¡± I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°She¡¯s already gone,¡± he said. ¡°With a regiment. Off to war.¡± I stared at him. ¡°And you just found this out?¡± Manach took another slow sip before answering. ¡°Remember those Coldians I was talking to before you stumbled into me? They knew her. Told me straight.¡± I exhaled, rubbing my temples. ¡°Alright then. Tomorrow, we move.¡± The fire crackled, painting the clearing in flickering gold. The rest of the night, we talked¡ªreminiscing, trading stories of old jobs, old wounds. We laughed about the time we were hired to escort some human messenger carrying vital information, only for him to get killed by a fucking bird. A bird. Accidental, of course. But still, a bird. We drank. We laughed. And eventually, sleep took us. And that¡¯s when the dreams came. Vivid. Too vivid. I dreamt of a high glamour keep, vast and endless, its banquet tables stretching beyond sight. The air was thick with laughter, the clatter of goblets, the murmur of conspiracies whispered behind jeweled hands. Elves. All highborn, at least in the dream. Drinking, feasting, fighting, reveling in their own power. And I was above them. I sat at the head of it all¡ªon a throne. Empty. No lord. No king. Just me. Someone stood nearby. A woman. An elf, I thought. But I couldn¡¯t see her face. Every time I tried, something shifted¡ªher hair obscured it, or the light bent wrong. Her features flickered, her armor changed, her very being refused to settle. I tried to speak. Then I woke up. Manach was laughing. I groaned, my voice raw. ¡°Why are you laughing?¡± ¡°Good morning to you too,¡± Manach said, his grin too wide. He was seated nearby, whittling arrows for his bow, still chuckling to himself. I pushed myself up and reached for the rations¡ªhard, dry, and miserable, but food was food. At least Manach had already brewed black tea, my favorite. I sipped it slowly, watching him. Still grinning. Still holding in laughter. ¡°Tell me,¡± I said flatly. ¡°No, you tell me,¡± Manach countered. ¡°Who¡¯s Liarna?¡± I blinked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You called out in your sleep. Liarna! Liarna, my beloved! Liarna!¡± He burst out laughing. I froze mid-sip. The name meant nothing to me. No memory. No connection. But it had been in the dream, hadn¡¯t it? The woman. The shifting figure. My stomach turned. Manach was still laughing. I let him. It was too early to deal with this. We packed up within the hour. ¡°Let¡¯s chart the path,¡± I said as I slung my gear over my shoulder. ¡°Already did. While you were moaning in your sleep,¡± Manach said smugly. I rolled my eyes. ¡°And you didn¡¯t think to ask me for my opinion?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t want to interrupt your wet dream.¡± I ignored that. ¡°Fine. Tell me the plan.¡± Manach straightened, listing it off like a tactician reporting to a general. ¡°We cut through the Hinterlands toward Lampis Town. From there, we take a boat to Stonepeak Village. That¡¯s where our target is¡ªTjogg the Ship Mover. Once we resupply, we move through Silent Sun Valley, around Mount Embrace, past Gronfind, then into Silent Sun City.¡± It was solid. A long road, but direct. I frowned. ¡°Why go through the Hinterlands? Why not just take a boat to Lampis?¡± Manach grinned. ¡°It¡¯s boring. The Hinterlands are more fun.¡± Of course. Of course he¡¯d say that. I sighed. No use arguing. He was set on it. I adjusted my pack. ¡°Who¡¯s this Tjogg?¡± ¡°No idea,¡± Manach admitted. I shot him a look. ¡°And we¡¯re just supposed to find him?¡± ¡°Pretty much.¡± He shrugged. I ran a hand down my face. ¡°Do we at least know what he looks like?¡± Manach¡¯s smirk widened. ¡°Nope.¡± Fantastic. By midday, we¡¯d left the Ashridden Forest, the borders of Breathit Volcano and the Wasteland Mountains looming ahead. The road was alive with movement¡ªtraders, travelers, Coldians, humans, dwarves. The usual mix. Approaching the border, we got special treatment. Coldians always did. A fully armored guard stepped forward as we reached the checkpoint. ¡°Heading out?¡± I straightened. ¡°Yeah. Zero Regiment. We have a job.¡± The guard gave a short nod. ¡°Good enough. Remember to keep your helmets on and signal the runic relay at this hour every day.¡± He turned and waved us through. Manach and I exchanged a glance. This was it. We stepped past the border. The Hinterlands lay ahead. Wild. Waiting. Chapter 2: The Letter I dreamed. That was rare. I never remembered my dreams. But this one was vivid, sharp as a knife. I wasn¡¯t a Coldian in the dream. I stood in a bustling kitchen, fire roaring in the hearth, knives flashing, voices shouting. I was giving orders, cooking, moving from station to station. The scent of something rich and unfamiliar filled the air. I was happy, frustrated, focused. Cooking. I had always been good at it. Had a knack. Everything I made turned out perfect. But in waking life, I found it dull. Boring. Here, in the dream, it felt like everything. I woke at dawn, the silence of the barracks a comfort. Then¡ªBANG, BANG. A heavy knock. Someone using their boot. I sat up, rolled my shoulders, and opened the door. Manach stood there, fully armored. That meant one of two things¡ªhe was either too eager to leave, or he was hiding an injury. ¡°Let¡¯s get some tea,¡± he said. His voice was tight, his expression hard. No jokes. No grins. He¡¯d been in a fight. I didn¡¯t press. Just nodded, murmured a calm good morning, and grabbed my gear. We found a quiet tavern, ordered raisin tea, poured in something stronger. Manach needed it. ¡°I¡¯m not going to ask,¡± I said, watching him closely, ¡°but I need to know¡ªis it done?¡± ¡°It¡¯s done.¡± He sipped his tea. ¡°And we¡¯ve got enough money for a three-month journey.¡± I took that to mean it had been messy. Best not to pry. I leaned forward. ¡°You¡¯ve given thought to our route?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± He set his cup down. ¡°First, we question the wife. Then we chart a path to the Silent Sun. And I wrote a letter.¡± I raised a brow. ¡°A letter?¡± Manach met my gaze. ¡°This isn¡¯t a standard job. You know it. I know it. Something¡¯s off. But we need to stay above board. So I wrote to the higher-ups, requesting permission to investigate alongside the search. Official approval.¡± Smart. And right. I nodded. ¡°Alright. You take the map, chart the route. I¡¯ll take the letter to the Citadel.¡± I stood, adjusting my belt. ¡°Meet you at the wife¡¯s place in an hour?¡± Manach gave me a firm nod. I left, stepping into the cold. Time to get answers. The walk to the Citadel should have been uneventful. Instead, it felt wrong. The streets were quieter than they should have been. Shops, bound by working hours, remained shut. Those who were out moved like shadows, speaking in hushed voices¡ªor not at all. Reactions varied. Some looked shaken. Others excited. Some unreadable. Then I saw why. Six regiments. Fully armored, weapons at the ready, officers standing tall at the front. That was war. Five or fewer, and it would have been a raid. Six meant something larger. The rule wasn¡¯t absolute, but it held true often enough. I pushed forward, threading my way to the edge of the gathered soldiers. On the platform above them stood Commander Licht. Tall. Muscular. Coldian through and through. The perfect soldier, if such a thing existed. His horned helmet shimmered with frost magic, and the massive sword strapped to his back looked like it had been forged in the heart of a glacier. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Licht didn¡¯t waste breath on anything beyond war. Tactics. Soldier maintenance. Campaign logistics. Discipline. He was the kind of leader who knew every law, every regulation, as if he had written them himself. And yet, for all his presence, it wasn¡¯t Licht who made my skin prickle. It was the figure beneath the platform. A monster. Twice my size. Fang. Leader of the Razorclaws. One of the ruling Council members of the Sheer Cold Empire. A Lychen by race, a werewolf of unnatural stature, wrapped in battered deathplate armor. His pale fur bore more scars than most men had bones. And he loved war. The Razorclaws and Bloodclaws were both part of the Empire¡¯s structure, but there was no mistaking what they truly were¡ªwarmongers. Allies, yes, but dangerous. Always dangerous. I forced myself to listen. ¡°Now, in the name of the Sheer Cold! In the name of the Cold One¡ªmarch!¡± Licht¡¯s voice carried across the city like a storm wind. The Coldian regiments slammed their shields as one. A thunderclap of steel and resolve. The sound made my blood itch. Even I felt the urge to march with them. Then the army moved. A tide of disciplined bodies, falling into step as they headed south. Toward Golden Village. I frowned. That was odd. Golden Village was human territory. A minor settlement. Just a few hundred people. Outside of Sheer Cold borders. Not a military target. So why? The undead? A hidden threat? I pushed the question aside. Not my concern. Not now. What was my concern was Licht marching with them. That meant no approval from him. I needed another option. As the last soldiers left the square, the city stirred back to life. Shops unlocked. People emerged. Life moved on. I reached the Citadel gates. Closed. That meant one of two things. Either a threat had surfaced inside Coldian lands. Or the Council was in session. A Coldian archer stood nearby, leaning against a pillar. ¡°Archer!¡± I called. ¡°Is the entrance completely closed?¡± He barely turned his head. ¡°Aye. Council.¡± Damn. That left me with very few choices. I scanned the area, trying to decide what to do next. That¡¯s when I saw him. And my gut sank. A tall figure. Humanoid, but wrong. His body rippled, coated in a shifting, viscous darkness that clung to him like living tar. His left arm was monstrous¡ªtwisted with scales and tendrils of void-black corruption. His right? Almost disturbingly normal. Human. Shadathor. Prince of Darkness. A Council member. One of the most feared beings alive. Some whispered that he was as powerful as the Cold One himself, Dominatarh. Every instinct screamed at me to walk away. But I needed this approval. And I had no one else to turn to. I forced my legs to move. Forced myself forward. Then I bowed, dropping to one knee. ¡°Master Shadathor,¡± I said, keeping my voice even. ¡°If I may¡ª¡± He walked past me. Ignored me completely. Something in me flared¡ªannoyance, maybe desperation. I turned, about to try again¡ª And he was already there. Right in front of me. Looking through my mask. Looking through me. His eyes burned like red embers, staring into my soul. And I saw it. Myself¡ªshredded, torn apart. My limbs ripped from their sockets. My body broken and remade in agony. ¡°You spoke to me,¡± he said. His voice was cold. Final. ¡°When you were not allowed.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°Then you tried again.¡± I felt my breath hitch. ¡°Either you wish for death, or you have something worth my time.¡± He tilted his head slightly. ¡°Something that will stop me from feeding you to the Void.¡± I couldn¡¯t think. Couldn¡¯t breathe. But somehow, I spoke. ¡°Y-y-yes, well¡ª¡± My throat locked up. My knees felt weak. He stepped closer. The air around him was wrong. Not rot. Not decay. Something worse. A scent like a dying rose¡ªfragile beauty, withering under corruption. ¡°My presence is required in the Council,¡± he said. ¡°If you have words, speak them. Now.¡± His tone darkened. ¡°Or be gone.¡± I forced the words out. ¡°Master Shade¡­ I have this letter. It requires approval from someone in the hierarchy so I can conduct my business.¡± For a moment, silence. Then¡ª ¡°A letter?¡± His voice shifted. ¡°A LETTER?¡± His very presence darkened. ¡°Of all the meaningless things you could have done, this is what you bring to me?¡± His crimson gaze burned. ¡°Out of all the miserable nobodies you could have approached, you chose me?¡± Dark tendrils coiled around his demonic hand. ¡°This level of insolence demands punishment.¡± His voice deepened, seeping into my bones. ¡°An eternity of torment.¡± I saw it. My death. I had been stupid. Everyone knew not to cross Shadathor. Then, suddenly, his head tilted. Like he was listening to something. A moment later¡ªhe was gone. Vanished into the shadows. I let out a slow, shaking breath. I had come so close to ceasing to exist. I was an idiot. A lucky idiot. But now what? I found myself sitting. Not by choice. My legs had buckled beneath me, and now I was just there, hunched on the ground like a man who had barely survived a storm. My knees still shook, my breath was uneven, and my entire body felt wrong. I had never felt fear like that before. Paralyzing fear. Not the rush of battle. Not the thrill of danger. Something worse. It had crept into my bones, lodged itself in my mind like a thick fog, filling my thoughts with a single, heavy question¡ª What just happened? My hands trembled. My heart pounded. I stared at nothing, trying to piece myself back together. And then¡ª A growl. My stomach. For a moment, the sheer absurdity of it cut through the terror. Near-death. Soul-crushing fear. And my body still reminded me it needed food. I let out a weak chuckle. Just a small one. But it was enough. Enough to shake me from the fog, just a little. Enough to remind me that I was alive. I took a breath, grabbed my things, and tucked the letter securely into my pouch. There was no rush. I needed a break. And I needed food. I set off toward Wolf¡¯s Bane. Chapter 3: Shady Business Wolf¡¯s Bane stood just outside the Citadel, nestled deep within Sheer Cold¡¯s heartland. An hour¡¯s walk, give or take. A city split in two. The first half belonged to the Bloodclaw clan¡ªlychen scholars, mages, intellectuals. This part of the city was a place of knowledge and refinement. Libraries, research facilities, and spellcraft workshops dominated the skyline. The greatest of them all was the Muskwater Library, named after the river that curled protectively around it. It held the largest collection of knowledge in the territory. The Bloodclaws were masters of arcane magic, especially illusion. They were dangerous, but not in the way most warriors thought. Then there was the other side of Wolf¡¯s Bane. Razorclaw territory. Where the Bloodclaws built halls of knowledge, the Razorclaws built arenas. Where the Bloodclaws studied ancient texts, the Razorclaws drank and fought. This part of the city was all sharp angles and rough edges¡ªbars, fighting pits, and strange, haphazard homes thrown together with little thought for beauty. At its center stood Prey House. A looming, brutalist mansion belonging to Fang himself. It wasn¡¯t just a home. It was a legend. Here, the most dangerous bounties in the world were posted. Some came from rulers, others from criminal syndicates, but all of them were deadly. Bounty hunters from every nation visited, drawn by the high stakes and high rewards. But I wasn¡¯t here for that. I was here for breakfast. Coldians were warriors, strategists, perfectionists¡ªbut we couldn¡¯t cook for shit. Food in our ranks was utilitarian at best, abysmal at worst. That¡¯s why we imported it. And in Wolf¡¯s Bane, there was a market stall in Bloodclaw territory that sold northern food¡ªdried fish and delicate pastries. Simple. Satisfying. Edible. As I walked, my thoughts drifted back to the job. I needed to find Manach. Whatever we did next, we had to do it together. Even if we met Rechna, we couldn¡¯t question her without approval. The letter was clear. We were only authorized to track down Sioh and conduct business outside Sheer Cold¡¯s borders. Anything beyond that? We needed permission. Which meant I needed to rethink our approach. I made a slight detour, hoping to intercept Manach before he disappeared on some errand. For once, luck was on my side. I spotted him up ahead, talking to a few men. By the time I got closer, they had already gone, leaving him alone¡ªwaiting. He saw me before I even opened my mouth. ¡°You¡¯re done already?¡± he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°Or did you get lost?¡± I scowled. ¡°Shut up and walk with me. You wouldn¡¯t believe what just happened.¡± I grabbed his arm and pulled him along. ¡°Where are we going?¡± he asked. ¡°Wolf¡¯s Bane. We¡¯re eating first.¡± He yanked his arm free, frowning. ¡°And the letter? The job?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll explain on the way,¡± I said, my voice serious. Something in my tone made him pause. He studied me for a moment, then nodded. ¡°Fine.¡± And with that, we walked. As we made our way to Wolf¡¯s Bane, I told him everything. ¡°What the actual fuck.¡± Manach laughed, shaking his head. ¡°You were gone for half an hour.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not funny,¡± I said flatly. ¡°Oh, it is funny.¡± He grinned. ¡°Big bad Koch¡ªoff to get a letter signed, comes back with soiled pants.¡± He chuckled again. ¡°That¡¯s comedy.¡± ¡°Like you would¡¯ve handled it better,¡± I muttered. Manach smirked. ¡°No, no¡ªtrust me. I¡¯d have gotten the signature, wrapped up the job, grabbed us food, and still had time to wait for you while you were still charting the path on a damn map.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Speaking of which¡ªdid you finish charting the path?¡± He stopped walking. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter.¡± That meant no. I exhaled, but before I could call him out, the treeline ahead thinned. The sight of Wolf¡¯s Bane stretched before us. The city pulsed with life. Lychen bustled about their business, running errands, moving supplies. Coldians walked among them, their rigid discipline at odds with the casual, almost chaotic flow of the Bloodclaw streets. Stalls stood open, traders barking offers, the scent of fresh-baked goods and smoked meat curling through the air. No danger. No threats. A rare moment of peace. We made a straight line for our target¡ªa simple market stall in Bloodclaw territory, the one place where you could get real food instead of the rations we suffered back home. We paid, took our food, and settled at an outer table. Manach cut his meal into neat little portions with his dagger, stabbing a piece and popping it into his mouth with exaggerated refinement. A noble¡¯s performance¡ªmocking, but precise. I rolled my eyes and muttered through a mouthful of food, ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan now?¡± ¡°We can¡¯t leave without approval. Would be pointless. There¡¯s more to this job than we know.¡± He twirled his dagger absently before spearing another bite. ¡°I know that. But with the Council ongoing and this whole war effort¡­ who¡¯s even left to give us approval?¡± Manach shrugged. ¡°Can¡¯t we just wait for the Council to finish?¡± Could we? I frowned. ¡°We could, but we¡¯d still need to find someone after that.¡± Manach studied me, his expression shifting. He knew what I was thinking. The real problem wasn¡¯t waiting¡ªthe real problem was access. The top brass? Impossible to reach. The chain of command? A bureaucratic nightmare. But Manach¡ªhe always had a way. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°I know a guy,¡± he said finally. I stopped him right there. ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± He smirked. ¡°You never do.¡± ¡°Because every time you ¡®know a guy,¡¯ one of us ends up needing a healer.¡± He waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Don¡¯t wor¡ª¡± ¡°Nope.¡± ¡°Listen¡ª¡± I sighed. ¡°Yup. One of us is going to need a healer.¡± Manach leaned forward. ¡°Look, let¡¯s stock up. Then we meet the guy. You get final say. After that, we figure out our next move once we have approval.¡± I opened my mouth to argue. Didn¡¯t get the chance. ¡°Awesome!¡± Manach shot up from his seat, already moving. He strode to the stall and started ordering supplies¡ªfood, water, rations¡ªpaying in gold and silver like it was nothing. I watched him work, exhaling slowly. Maybe this was the day I died. Wouldn¡¯t be the first time I had that feeling around him. But still¡ªI followed. As he loaded up, I asked, ¡°At least tell me the guy¡¯s name.¡± Manach grinned. ¡°Ruhk.¡± We walked for hours. Neither of us spoke much. Just the basics¡ªtravel, terrain, distance. The Ashridden Forest stretched around us, vast and undisturbed. A gentle breeze whispered through the trees, rustling the canopy in a way that settled my nerves. The tension from earlier still lingered, but the walk was almost peaceful. Almost. The deeper we went, the more my mind wandered. Who was Ruhk? The name had Coldian weight to it, but why was he so far north? There were no settlements here¡ªjust wilderness. My gut, always sharper than I gave it credit for, supplied the answer. Manach was shady. Always had been. That meant the people he associated with were worse. This Ruhk, whoever he was, had to be hiding something¡ªsomething bad. Otherwise, he wouldn¡¯t be out here, far beyond where anyone could stumble upon him by accident. I felt it in my bones. But I followed anyway. We pressed on in silence until I finally broke it. ¡°Is this guy really this far north?¡± Manach didn¡¯t even slow down. ¡°No idea.¡± I stopped walking. ¡°Wait, then why the fuck are we heading this way?¡± He turned, grinning. ¡°We don¡¯t find him. He finds us.¡± I stared at him. ¡°Come on, Koch¡ªhave a little faith.¡± Faith. Faith. The last time Manach told me to have faith, we were in the Hinterlands. He had me jump a cliff in full armor. Said I¡¯d make it. Said it was easy. I missed. Broke my leg, my ribs, both arms. Three weeks of urgent care. I still didn¡¯t remember most of it. And now he was asking for faith again? I sighed. But I followed. Eventually, we reached a clearing. Tall trees loomed overhead, their trunks marked with carved sigils¡ªAncient Reaper script, complex and unfamiliar. I recognized the language but couldn¡¯t read it. My primary tongue was Elven, my secondary was modern Reaper, but Ancient Reaper? That was another beast entirely. Too convoluted. Too intricate. Still, I knew one thing. These weren¡¯t just markers. They were ritual sigils. ¡°What do they say?¡± I asked. Manach shrugged. ¡°No clue. But there¡¯s a treehouse nearby. Look for a ladder.¡± He pushed forward, moving between the trees like he already knew the way. I didn¡¯t like this¡ªany of it¡ªbut I was already here. A few minutes later, I found it. A wooden ladder, nailed into the trunk of a massive tree, stretching up into the branches. ¡°Over here,¡± I called. Manach clapped his hands. ¡°Then don¡¯t just stand there¡ªclimb.¡± I gritted my teeth and started up. The ladder led to a small trapdoor, shut but not locked. I pushed it open and pulled myself inside. The room was cluttered. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with tomes, scrolls, and scattered, half-destroyed notes. Loose parchment littered the floor¡ªsome so worn and brittle they crumbled underfoot. Arcane items sat haphazardly on tables, their glow faint but wrong. The air itself felt charged, like the residue of a spell still clung to the wood. I exhaled, glancing around. I knew what this was. ¡°Coldian mage,¡± I muttered. ¡°Forbidden arts. Ritual magic. Anything I¡¯m missing?¡± Manach hauled himself up through the trapdoor and dusted off his coat. He gave me an approving nod. ¡°Actually, no. I¡¯m impressed.¡± I smirked. ¡°You should be.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t push it.¡± He glanced around, scanning the room, then spoke as he started searching. ¡°Look for a book. No writing on the cover, but it¡¯ll have an arcane seal on it.¡± I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Why?¡± Manach rifled through a stack of scrolls. ¡°If we touch it, Ruhk will come. He doesn¡¯t like people messing with it, so he put some kind of spell on it.¡± I froze. ¡°What kind of spell?¡± Manach hesitated. Just for a second. Then, too quickly¡ª ¡°No idea. I don¡¯t mess with magic.¡± Liar. He knew something. And for him to be this cagey, it meant the spell wasn¡¯t some harmless little warning rune. It was something worse. Still, I exhaled and started searching. Because whether I liked it or not, we were already here. We still hadn¡¯t found the book when we heard it¡ªrustling outside. Manach and I locked eyes. No words, no hesitation. He drew his daggers. I unsheathed my sword, shield up over my arm. The climbing noises grew louder. Then the trapdoor creaked. Manach moved first. The moment it cracked open, he kicked it up, yanking whoever was climbing through. I seized them, locked their arms behind their back, and pinned them hard. Manach¡¯s dagger kissed the stranger¡¯s throat. ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± Manach whispered. The intruder didn¡¯t struggle. Heavy armor, no weapons. Coldian. A mage. If this wasn¡¯t Ruhk, then who the fuck was he? He didn¡¯t answer, so I tightened my grip. ¡°Would be wise to talk,¡± I murmured. No fear. No hesitation. ¡°My name is Nacht.¡± Manach got close, too close. ¡°Nacht? What are you doing here?¡± ¡°Master sent me.¡± I felt my stomach tighten. Master? Coldians didn¡¯t have masters. That wasn¡¯t their way. This wasn¡¯t right. A spell, maybe? A binding ritual? ¡°Who¡¯s your master?¡± I asked. Manach chuckled. I shot him a look. He raised his hands in mock apology. ¡°Ruhk,¡± Nacht said simply. I frowned. ¡°Why did he send you?¡± Nacht¡¯s face was unreadable. ¡°To ask if the intruders can speak the Volume of Three.¡± The what? Before I could even process it, Manach answered, ¡°We can.¡± Of course he could. Code words, secret dealings. Typical shady bullshit. I hated it. I let Nacht go. He didn¡¯t react¡ªjust dusted himself off and started cleaning the room like we hadn¡¯t nearly killed him. I turned to Manach. ¡°Volume of Three?¡± ¡°A code of trust,¡± he said. Then, without hesitation, he knocked on wood three times, whistled seven, and coughed once. The air twisted. A portal tore itself open. I felt my stomach churn. I hated portals. I hated teleportation. The sensation of being unmade and reassembled¡ªlike your soul took a moment to catch up with your body. Coldians used it all the time, jumping between realms, but I could never get used to it. And then¡ªhe stepped through. No armor. Pale Coldian features, red eyes burning like embers, a black leather tunic. A short staff in his hand, surrounded by floating arcane crystals humming with energy. His hair, short and silver, shimmered unnaturally¡ªmagic radiating from him like heat from a forge. Manach grinned. ¡°Ruhk, you¡¯re a hard man to find, but an easy one to lure.¡± So this was Ruhk. The mage¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change. His voice was smooth, wise, but laced with steel. ¡°I should have known a pathetic swindler like you would come crawling back.¡± He folded his arms. ¡°You owe me five thousand gold, Manach. I assume you came to pay your debt.¡± Five thousand? How the hell did Manach rack up that kind of money? ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Vizier Ruhk. The debt will be paid. But first¡ªbusiness.¡± He motioned toward me. ¡°Meet my associate, Koch.¡± Vizier. That meant something. A Coldian mage of power¡ªsomeone who carried the same weight as a captain of a regiment. I nodded. ¡°A pleasure.¡± Ruhk barely looked at me. ¡°You are unimportant, soldier.¡± His eyes didn¡¯t leave Manach. ¡°Now. Give me my money. Then we talk.¡± As we spoke, Nacht slipped out. Just left. No words, no acknowledgment. Just gone. I wanted to ask about him¡ªwhat the hell he was¡ªbut now wasn¡¯t the time. I kept my mouth shut. Manach sighed, pulled a heavy bag from his pack, and tossed it to Ruhk. It hit the floor with the dull clink of a lot of coin. ¡°Then sit,¡± Ruhk said. And just like that, a table and three chairs materialized in the middle of the room. Magic. I fucking hated magic. We sat. Ruhk leaned back, fingers tapping against his staff. The air shifted. ¡°I don¡¯t want this to take long. Tell me what you want, so I can tell you to fuck off and get back to real business.¡± His tone had changed. The wisdom in his voice faded, replaced by something rougher. Meaner. Manach grinned, flicking one of his daggers between his fingers. A tell. He always did that when he had something planned. ¡°Simple,¡± he said. ¡°We need five thousand gold. I¡¯ll be in your debt. And we need an approval seal, or a meeting with someone higher up.¡± The silence stretched. Then¡ª ¡°Fuck off,¡± Ruhk said, standing up. ¡°Gladly,¡± Manach replied, still grinning. ¡°But not without those things.¡± Ruhk narrowed his eyes. ¡°You insult me, Manach. That¡¯s unlike you.¡± Manach leaned forward. ¡°I don¡¯t insult. I negotiate.¡± ¡°You just paid your debt, and now you¡¯re asking for the money back¡ªplus a favor?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Ruhk studied him. Then, slowly¡ªtoo slowly¡ªhe nodded. ¡°What do I get in return?¡± Manach tilted his head. ¡°What do you want?¡± How the hell had this gone from fuck off to let¡¯s make a deal? Ruhk¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°A head.¡± Manach didn¡¯t blink. ¡°Whose?¡± ¡°We have a deal?¡± ¡°We do.¡± Ruhk extended a hand. ¡°Then give me the letter.¡± I slid it over. He barely glanced at it before pressing a seal onto it¡ªan approval seal. From Athion. The Chaos Archon. I felt something tighten in my chest. How the fuck did Ruhk have a direct seal from Athion? Didn¡¯t matter. I wasn¡¯t about to ask. Ruhk met Manach¡¯s gaze. ¡°Once you deliver, you get the gold. If you fail, I hunt you both down.¡± Manach just smirked. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t expect anything less.¡± I finally spoke. ¡°Who¡¯s the target?¡± Manach raised a finger, pressed it to my lips. ¡°Shh.¡± I glared at him. Furious. But I knew this wasn¡¯t my conversation. ¡°Why don¡¯t you step outside,¡± Manach said smoothly, ¡°and let the big boys talk?¡± I wanted to kill them both. But I knew better. I turned and left. Chapter 4: The Dream Outside the treehouse, the world was still. No Nacht. No sign of anyone. I¡¯d hoped to corner him, pry a few answers out of him, but in truth, I was glad for the quiet. The conversation inside had been beyond me¡ªhalf-spoken, half-understood, a language of glances and gestures. Criminal tongues. Mercenary codes. I let out a slow breath and sat down, leaning back against a nearby tree, letting my muscles relax against the rough bark. Seven months of nothing. Just scraping by, existing from one day to the next. Then, in days, I had a job. I nearly died. I met figures that could unmake me with a thought. And now, I was waiting for my partner to drag us deeper into whatever business this was. Twenty minutes passed. Maybe more. Then Manach climbed down. No words. Just a glance. Something was off. Or maybe he just wanted to talk somewhere quieter. I got up, followed him deeper into the woods. We walked until the treehouse was a memory, until the only sound was the crunch of underbrush beneath our boots. Sunset bled across the sky. We sat. ¡°Talk to me,¡± I said, voice steady. Manach took a breath, then smirked. ¡°I will. Just don¡¯t know where to start.¡± ¡°How about what the hell that was?¡± I shot back. ¡°Business,¡± he said easily, pulling out a flask and taking a sip. Then he handed it to me. ¡°You know I deal with these types. Be glad no one got hurt.¡± I took a drink. Wine. Cheap. But it settled my nerves. He wasn¡¯t wrong. The odds of walking out of that alive were slim. But somehow, somehow, Manach always made it work. ¡°Alright,¡± I exhaled. ¡°No idea what you pulled in there, but we got the money, and we got the approval, I assume?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Manach said. Then, with another grin, ¡°And we got another job. A side-job, if you may.¡± I gave him a look. ¡°Off the record, I suppose?¡± ¡°The best kind,¡± he said, taking another sip. ¡°But it means our trip is¡­ extended.¡± ¡°How much?¡± Manach watched me over the rim of his flask. ¡°Three months, give or take. If both jobs go smooth, we might wrap this up in a year.¡± I shook my head, laughing under my breath. ¡°Honestly? I¡¯m just glad we¡¯re doing something. Even if it¡¯s a mess.¡± Manach chuckled. He passed the wine back, and I took another sip. I could already feel the dullness creeping in. Not drunk. Just softened. While he drank, I started working on a fire. Not for warmth¡ªwe didn¡¯t feel cold. Just light. Just to keep the wild things at bay. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Tomorrow, we head off,¡± Manach said. ¡°We¡¯ve got enough supplies. If we¡¯re missing anything, we¡¯ll pick it up on the road.¡± I nodded, then frowned. ¡°What about the wife?¡± He blinked. ¡°The wife?¡± ¡°Yeah. Rechna. Sioh¡¯s wife. We still need to question her.¡± Manach shook his head. ¡°No can do.¡± I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°She¡¯s already gone,¡± he said. ¡°With a regiment. Off to war.¡± I stared at him. ¡°And you just found this out?¡± Manach took another slow sip before answering. ¡°Remember those Coldians I was talking to before you stumbled into me? They knew her. Told me straight.¡± I exhaled, rubbing my temples. ¡°Alright then. Tomorrow, we move.¡± The fire crackled, painting the clearing in flickering gold. The rest of the night, we talked¡ªreminiscing, trading stories of old jobs, old wounds. We laughed about the time we were hired to escort some human messenger carrying vital information, only for him to get killed by a fucking bird. A bird. Accidental, of course. But still, a bird. We drank. We laughed. And eventually, sleep took us. And that¡¯s when the dreams came. Vivid. Too vivid. I dreamt of a high glamour keep, vast and endless, its banquet tables stretching beyond sight. The air was thick with laughter, the clatter of goblets, the murmur of conspiracies whispered behind jeweled hands. Elves. All highborn, at least in the dream. Drinking, feasting, fighting, reveling in their own power. And I was above them. I sat at the head of it all¡ªon a throne. Empty. No lord. No king. Just me. Someone stood nearby. A woman. An elf, I thought. But I couldn¡¯t see her face. Every time I tried, something shifted¡ªher hair obscured it, or the light bent wrong. Her features flickered, her armor changed, her very being refused to settle. I tried to speak. Then I woke up. Manach was laughing. I groaned, my voice raw. ¡°Why are you laughing?¡± ¡°Good morning to you too,¡± Manach said, his grin too wide. He was seated nearby, whittling arrows for his bow, still chuckling to himself. I pushed myself up and reached for the rations¡ªhard, dry, and miserable, but food was food. At least Manach had already brewed black tea, my favorite. I sipped it slowly, watching him. Still grinning. Still holding in laughter. ¡°Tell me,¡± I said flatly. ¡°No, you tell me,¡± Manach countered. ¡°Who¡¯s Liarna?¡± I blinked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You called out in your sleep. Liarna! Liarna, my beloved! Liarna!¡± He burst out laughing. I froze mid-sip. The name meant nothing to me. No memory. No connection. But it had been in the dream, hadn¡¯t it? The woman. The shifting figure. My stomach turned. Manach was still laughing. I let him. It was too early to deal with this. We packed up within the hour. ¡°Let¡¯s chart the path,¡± I said as I slung my gear over my shoulder. ¡°Already did. While you were moaning in your sleep,¡± Manach said smugly. I rolled my eyes. ¡°And you didn¡¯t think to ask me for my opinion?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t want to interrupt your wet dream.¡± I ignored that. ¡°Fine. Tell me the plan.¡± Manach straightened, listing it off like a tactician reporting to a general. ¡°We cut through the Hinterlands toward Lampis Town. From there, we take a boat to Stonepeak Village. That¡¯s where our target is¡ªTjogg the Ship Mover. Once we resupply, we move through Silent Sun Valley, around Mount Embrace, past Gronfind, then into Silent Sun City.¡± It was solid. A long road, but direct. I frowned. ¡°Why go through the Hinterlands? Why not just take a boat to Lampis?¡± Manach grinned. ¡°It¡¯s boring. The Hinterlands are more fun.¡± Of course. Of course he¡¯d say that. I sighed. No use arguing. He was set on it. I adjusted my pack. ¡°Who¡¯s this Tjogg?¡± ¡°No idea,¡± Manach admitted. I shot him a look. ¡°And we¡¯re just supposed to find him?¡± ¡°Pretty much.¡± He shrugged. I ran a hand down my face. ¡°Do we at least know what he looks like?¡± Manach¡¯s smirk widened. ¡°Nope.¡± Fantastic. By midday, we¡¯d left the Ashridden Forest, the borders of Breathit Volcano and the Wasteland Mountains looming ahead. The road was alive with movement¡ªtraders, travelers, Coldians, humans, dwarves. The usual mix. Approaching the border, we got special treatment. Coldians always did. A fully armored guard stepped forward as we reached the checkpoint. ¡°Heading out?¡± I straightened. ¡°Yeah. Zero Regiment. We have a job.¡± The guard gave a short nod. ¡°Good enough. Remember to keep your helmets on and signal the runic relay at this hour every day.¡± He turned and waved us through. Manach and I exchanged a glance. This was it. We stepped past the border. The Hinterlands lay ahead. Wild. Waiting. Chapter 5: The Wild Reach We reached the Hinterlands in two days. Close enough to the border, but a world apart. They were as beautiful as they were wild, and as wild as they were dangerous. The trees stretched from towering giants to twisted, knotted tangles. Bushes thick with life clawed at the ground, vines hung like waiting nooses, and the air itself carried the scent of damp earth and unseen movement. Birds called. Animals lurked. A natural wonder, they called it. That was one way to put it. The other way? A hunter¡¯s paradise, a fugitive¡¯s sanctuary, and a poacher¡¯s playground. Two official roads ran through it¡ªone from the north, one from the south¡ªbut they were more suggestion than safety. Too many places to hide. Too many places to die. The Coldians had tried to tame this land once. They failed. The Council refused to allow its destruction. So it remained¡ªuntouched. Neutral. Dangerous. And then there were the Wood Elves. Escaped slaves from the Samurai Empire, now calling themselves Vandor. They were a guild, a tribe, a loose brotherhood of thieves, mercenaries, and freedom fighters. Their war against the Samurai was relentless, their purpose clear¡ªto break chains, free their kind, and burn their old masters from memory. They called the Hinterlands home, somewhere deep, somewhere unknown. They weren¡¯t hostile, not always, but they weren¡¯t friendly either. And here? In their own land? We were nothing but easy targets. I had been through these lands before. Never without trouble. I recalled one expedition in particular¡ªback when an underground temple was discovered. A remnant from the old gods, a place where Domino himself had once clashed with Shade in battle. A stalemate that had become an alliance, one that shaped history. The temple was long gone now. Time had swallowed it. But we had once stood at its gates. That was years ago. This was now. I was lost in thought, following Manach blindly, until I realized something. The road was gone. The trees pressed in tight. The path had vanished beneath our feet, replaced by unbroken forest. I grabbed Manach¡¯s shoulder, yanking him back. ¡°Wait. Why are we going this way? Why aren¡¯t we on the road?¡± Manach just grinned. ¡°Come on, all the fun stuff happens off-course.¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t a game,¡± I said, voice hard. Manach sighed theatrically. ¡°Alright, party pooper. Lead the way back.¡± I turned¡ªonly to see nothing but trees. No path. No markers. Just wilderness, stretching endlessly in every direction. I didn¡¯t even know where we came from. Maybe south? Maybe if we kept walking, we¡¯d hit the road. Manach saw me scanning the terrain. His grin widened. ¡°You were following me,¡± he chuckled. ¡°Figured you were in on the fun, too.¡± I grumbled something incoherent. A mess of words. A mess of frustration. Because I had followed him. And now? Now we were lost. We moved cautiously, boots pressing light against the forest floor. Manach raised a hand¡ªsilent signal. Stop. I halted, shifting my weight carefully, letting my movements blend into the hush of the wild. Then we heard it. Rustling. Leaves shifting. Bushes disturbed. The snap of a branch under pressure. Could have been wildlife. Could have been something worse. We dropped low, sliding into cover, watching. A figure stepped into view¡ªa human. Medium build. Weak frame. Wore a tattered, faded robe, gray with age and wear. A staff, almost as tall as he was, balanced in his grip. A mage. Had to be. No way this guy survived out here on his own otherwise. We stayed in the shadows, waiting. Watching. Then he spoke. ¡°Hail, Coldians.¡± Calm. Boyish voice. No fear. No hesitation. Manach moved first, springing from the underbrush with his dagger drawn, blade catching the dappled sunlight. I scanned the treeline, checking for an ambush. Nothing. Just the three of us. ¡°Wait, I mean no harm,¡± the man said, hands raised. Manach didn¡¯t lower the blade. ¡°What makes you think we don¡¯t?¡± he hissed. ¡°If you did, I¡¯d already be dead,¡± the mage replied, voice steady. ¡°It was fate that brought us here.¡± ¡°Fate?¡± I muttered, stepping out of cover. Manach shot me a glance. I ignored it. That meant we parley. ¡°Yes, fate.¡± The mage nodded, his expression unreadable. ¡°You must be weary from your journey through these beautiful lands. Please, come with me.¡± He wasn¡¯t begging. Not quite. There was something else in his tone. Not arrogance. Not fear. Certainty. Manach sidled up to me, keeping his voice low. ¡°I think this guy¡¯s into us.¡± Always a joker. I exhaled, keeping my eyes on the stranger. ¡°I don¡¯t trust him. But we might as well hear him out. Maybe get our bearings.¡± You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Manach feigned hurt. ¡°You don¡¯t trust my guide?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°That breaks my heart.¡± The mage stood still, watching, patient as stone. I nudged Manach. ¡°Cut the bullshit. Let¡¯s go. If this goes sideways, I¡¯ll save your ass.¡± Manach smirked. ¡°You? Save me?¡± I started moving. ¡°You forget why you¡¯re still alive.¡± He fell into step beside me, keeping his dagger loose in his grip. ¡°Oh, you mean the seventeen times I¡¯ve saved your life?¡± ¡°I saved your life six times,¡± I shot back. ¡°Seventeen is still bigger than six.¡± He grinned. ¡°Yeah. But out of those seventeen, how many were your fault in the first place?¡± A pause. Then he laughed. ¡°Seventeen.¡± We followed the mage into the trees. The walk wasn¡¯t long. When we reached the camp, I had to admit¡ªI was impressed. It was built on high ground, nestled among jagged rocks, with a thick tree line shielding it from view. The clearing itself was near-perfect. No signs of heavy wildlife activity. Dry, grassy ground¡ªnot mud. A small pond, fed by an underground stream, shimmered under the fading light. As we moved in, the stranger pointed out some rudimentary noise traps strung along the perimeter¡ªsimple but effective. Smart. Then I spotted something even better: an escape route. A narrow path on the far side led to a fallen tree, an easy climb down if things went bad. I scanned the camp itself¡ªtwo tents, a well-maintained fire pit, crates of supplies, food, books, travel gear. Whoever this man was, he wasn¡¯t just surviving out here. He was thriving. He was prepared. But there was one problem. Two tents. And he was alone. I narrowed my eyes. ¡°So where¡¯s your companion?¡± The man exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable. ¡°That is why I sought you out.¡± Manach folded his arms. ¡°How did you know to find us? Or even who we are?¡± He wasn¡¯t buying it. His whole body was tense, fingers twitching near his belt. ¡°I prayed,¡± the man said. ¡°Prayed that fate would save my friend. And in my prayer, two Coldians were revealed to me.¡± Manach blinked. ¡°What?¡± Yeah, I was confused too. I stepped forward, my voice turning sharp. ¡°What do you mean, fate? Which god did you pray to? Who told you about us? Stop playing games.¡± The man smiled faintly, shaking his head. ¡°No god. Just fate itself. Destiny. I prayed, and it listened. Something listened. Someone. Somewhere. And it gave me the knowledge of you two.¡± I gestured at Manach. ¡°We could¡¯ve killed you on sight.¡± Manach grinned. ¡°We still could.¡± The man didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°But you won¡¯t.¡± He stepped toward the fire and motioned for us to sit. ¡°The hour grows dark. Come. Let us eat, and speak as civilized men.¡± He turned toward his tent, giving us a moment to decide. I let out a slow breath. My gut was tied in knots. My brain told me this made no sense, but something¡ªsomething deep¡ªtold me it was going to be okay. Manach wasn¡¯t convinced. He leaned in. ¡°Koch, I don¡¯t like this. A stranger in the woods, knows too much, says his companion is missing? This could be an ambush.¡± I nodded. ¡°Yeah. But what does your gut tell you?¡± Manach hesitated. ¡°Weirdly enough¡­ that everything¡¯s fine.¡± He scowled, like he hated admitting it. I exhaled. ¡°Either way, if this guy¡¯s up to something, I doubt he or his friend can take us. Mage or not. Let¡¯s hear him out. Maybe he can even help us get to Lampis, seeing as we¡¯re lost.¡± Manach scoffed. ¡°We¡¯re not lost.¡± I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Oh really? Where are we then?¡± He smirked. ¡°In the Hinterlands.¡± I just stared at him. How the hell are we still alive when I¡¯m the sane one? We sat by the fire. Manach kept his dagger on his lap, casual but visible. A warning. The man emerged a moment later, carrying a platter. I blinked. Food? Not just food. A feast. Beef. Lamb. Roasted potatoes and tomatoes. Fresh loaves of bread. A white, milky drink with the scent of roses. All of it cooked, prepared¡ªlike he knew we were coming. I felt a twinge of unease. I glanced at Manach. He was staring at the food, practically drooling. Whatever tension he¡¯d held before was crumbling fast. I smirked. Guess we¡¯re eating, then. We dug in. And it was good. No, not good. Perfect. The kind of meal that shouldn¡¯t exist out here. We ate in silence, the stranger joining us, his eyes flicking between us as we chewed. Finally, he spoke. ¡°I hope this satisfies you. It is all I possess.¡± His voice was warm, genuine. Manach gave a lazy nod, still stuffing his face. That meant I had to talk. I wiped my mouth and leaned in. My voice was calm, but firm. ¡°The food is great. Thank you. But before we discuss anything serious, I need answers.¡± The man smiled again, gentle, patient. ¡°Of course,¡± he said. ¡°Ask away.¡± The smile was starting to get on my nerves. I leaned forward, my voice flat. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± It came out more like an interrogation than a question. The man didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°Leon Maldwse.¡± ¡°Where are you from?¡± ¡°A small town called Anthial.¡± His voice was steady, rehearsed. ¡°It lies in the southeastern lands, near Dharis Port City, on the eastern edge of the Samurai Empire.¡± I knew enough geography to place it. Remote. Far. A long way from here. ¡°What brought you all the way out here?¡± ¡°To answer that, I must explain what I am.¡± He sat straighter. ¡°I was a shepherd once. A simple life. But I had an experience¡ªone that opened my mind. After that, I left everything behind. Became a hermit, a wanderer, devoted to spreading the knowledge my faith has given me.¡± I raised an eyebrow. ¡°A hermit? What faith?¡± ¡°My belief is tied to Destiny itself,¡± Leon said proudly. ¡°I believe fate is written in every soul. And I can read it¡ªhowever obscure it may seem.¡± I¡¯d never heard of anything like it. No god. No scripture. Just fate. Then something clicked. He wasn¡¯t speaking Common. He was speaking Reaper Tongue. And he was fluent. ¡°How do you know this language?¡± I pried. Leon¡¯s expression softened. ¡°Three things have fascinated me in my travels¡ªmagic, languages, and cultures. I sought to learn all I could.¡± He met my gaze, unwavering. ¡°I believe I can speak any language in existence.¡± Manach kept eating, but I could tell he was listening now. ¡°Interesting.¡± I tapped my fingers on my knee. ¡°So, you¡¯re a mage?¡± Leon nodded. ¡°A little arcane magic. Some healing. Nothing special.¡± I watched his face. No deception. ¡°Can you speak Ancient Reaper?¡± He tilted his head. ¡°Yes. I can read it as well. But it is¡­ difficult. Not as fluent as other tongues.¡± I reached into my pack, pulled out a scrap of parchment and charcoal, and started sketching. The rune. The one I¡¯d seen near Ruhk. I handed it to him. ¡°What does this mean?¡± Leon studied it. His expression darkened. ¡°This¡­¡± His voice dropped. ¡°This is a rune of mind control. Written in Ancient Reaper. And beneath it¡­ a name. Nacht. It¡¯s inscribed with curse magic.¡± My stomach clenched. Ruhk hadn¡¯t just controlled Nacht. He¡¯d enslaved him. I turned to Manach. He held up a hand. ¡°Hey, I didn¡¯t know. I don¡¯t like it either.¡± He exhaled. ¡°We¡¯ll deal with it when we get back.¡± Then he shoved another bite of lamb into his mouth, like it would erase the conversation. I turned back to Leon. ¡°That¡¯s all I needed. Now, tell me¡ªcan you read my destiny?¡± Leon¡¯s expression lifted, pleased. ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°What do I need to do?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± He leaned forward. ¡°Just relax.¡± I did. Leon¡¯s voice took on a distant, almost reverent tone. ¡°Your fate is woven with indulgence¡ªdeliciousness that brings you joy. A body, found in cold, murky waters. Alone. Sad. Yet¡­ still and satisfied.¡± A chill ran through me. ¡°What does that mean?¡± Leon shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Destiny speaks in riddles. Sometimes clear, sometimes not.¡± I considered pressing him, but something told me that was all I was going to get. ¡°Hey, do me! Do me next!¡± Manach grinned. Leon turned to him. ¡°Alright. Relax.¡± Manach burped. Leon sighed and continued. ¡°Your fate is written in blood. A rebellion. A battle for inner peace. Anger entwined with happiness. A fight against the earth itself¡ªone that ends in conclusion.¡± Manach frowned. ¡°What? Whatever. I¡¯m going to sleep.¡± He stretched out on the ground. ¡°Koch, you take first, second, and third watch. Okay?¡± I kicked him in the back. No reaction. Already snoring. I sighed. I turned back to Leon. ¡°I¡¯ll take watch. You should sleep.¡± Leon shook his head. ¡°I sleep when fate allows it.¡± He smiled. ¡°Tonight is not that night.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± I settled in. ¡°Tell me about your companion. Who is he? What happened?¡± Leon¡¯s smile faded. ¡°His name is Jorguh Rockcut. A dwarf. My friend and bodyguard. He was kidnapped. The bandits thought he was someone important¡ªa royal, maybe. They took him to a camp a few hours from here.¡± I nodded. ¡°And what do you want from us?¡± ¡°Help me free him.¡± I thought about it. ¡°And what do we get in return?¡± Leon tilted his head. ¡°What do you need?¡± ¡°Do you know how to get to Lampis?¡± His face brightened. ¡°Ah. Of course! I can take you there.¡± ¡°Then we have a deal.¡± I stood, stretching. ¡°We¡¯ll deal with the bandits. You take us to Lampis.¡± I slung my gear over my shoulder and smirked. ¡°Now, I¡¯m going for a walk. If you try anything, Manach¡ªno matter how asleep he is¡ªwill kill you. But if you can take him, at least torture him a bit first.¡± Leon blinked, uncertain if I was joking. I just grinned and climbed up the rocks. Chapter 6: The Lullaby I left the camp behind, stepping into the wilderness. The night was thick¡ªpitch black. Clouds choked the sky, heavy with the scent of rain, swallowing even the faintest glimmers of light. My eyes struggled to adjust. I moved carefully, navigating through unseen terrain, until I found what I was looking for¡ªa small clearing, wide open and exposed. The trees loomed on all sides, their jagged forms shifting in the dark, whispering secrets in the wind. It was dangerous to be out here, but danger wasn¡¯t what brought me. Tonight was Wrakin, the second day of the week. The first of Karrim, the seventh month. The day spring began. But that wasn¡¯t why I came. This was the day I was reborn. I didn¡¯t remember my past. I only knew what I¡¯d been told¡ªthat I had been dying, fever-ridden and slipping away. And for reasons unknown, the Coldians took me in. Changed me. Reforged me into one of their own. They said amnesia was part of it¡ªtransformation, rebirth, reincarnation. Call it what you will. But deep inside, I still hungered for my past. So every year, on this night, I came alone. And I sang. A song. The only thing I remembered from before. I didn¡¯t know why. Maybe I hoped it would bring something back¡ªa fragment, a face, a name. Maybe I had a family. Friends. A lover. A life stolen from me, lingering just beyond my grasp. So I sang: Sleep, my child, so soft and bright, While moonlight dims in velvet night. It slumbers now in silver deep, As you drift to dream and sleep. Rest, my star, let whispers weave, Of ancient winds and golden leaves. The moon will wake when dawn is new, And so shall wisdom grow in you. Rise, my child, with morning¡¯s light, Your heart is strong, your soul takes flight. Like moon that climbs the endless skies, You shall shine as years arise. The melody hung in the air, swallowed by the trees, lost in the dark. A lullaby. Had someone sung it to me? A mother? A father? Or¡ªCold One forbid¡ªhad I once sung it to a child of my own? The thought sat heavy in my chest. I turned back toward camp. Leon was asleep, despite all his talk of fate keeping him awake. Manach, on the other hand, snored loud enough to be mistaken for a dying boar or a bear in its death throes¡ªeither worked. I dropped to the ground and let exhaustion take me. No dreams. At least, none I could remember. I woke to the scent of black tea and fresh-cut apples. Manach sat nearby, stripped down to his undershirt, methodically polishing his daggers. His arrows lay arranged in precise lines, each fletched by his own hand. His bow¡ªa weapon he claimed to dislike but wielded better than any man I¡¯d ever met¡ªrested beside him, strung and ready. Leon, on the other hand, knelt motionless. Eyes shut. Hands loose at his sides. Silent. He wasn''t sleeping. He wasn''t even breathing in any way I could hear. Meditation? Prayer? Something else? Manach glanced up. Grinning. ¡°Rise and shine.¡± I stretched, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. ¡°Morning. You good?¡± This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m great.¡± He flicked a dagger into its sheath with practiced ease. ¡°Leon filled me in. Can¡¯t wait to get my hands dirty.¡± Of course, he was eager. Manach loved the fight. He didn¡¯t take prisoners. Neither did I¡ªnot when the blood started flowing. Whatever else we were, on the battlefield, we were a symphony of death and slaughter. I nodded toward Leon. ¡°How long¡¯s the mage been like that?¡± ¡°Three hours, give or take,¡± Manach said, scratching his head. ¡°But something¡¯s off about him.¡± I raised a brow. ¡°Off how?¡± Manach hesitated, then shrugged. ¡°I tried to kick him.¡± Of course he did. ¡°Tried?¡± ¡°Tried. First time, I slipped.¡± He frowned, recalling it. ¡°Second time, I missed.¡± I smirked. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re hungover.¡± ¡°No,¡± he said flatly. ¡°I tried twenty times.¡± I blinked. ¡°You missed... twenty times?¡± ¡°Out of those twenty?¡± He counted on his fingers. ¡°Missed two. The other times? Slipped. A leaf got in my face. A damn bird flew into me. Shit like that.¡± I couldn¡¯t hold back a laugh. ¡°Maybe I should take the bow.¡± I smirked. ¡°I mean, if you can¡¯t hit a motionless target with twenty tries, what hope do you have at range?¡± Manach¡¯s grin flickered. He stood fast, twirling a dagger in his fingers. ¡°I should cut you open right now.¡± ¡°You and I both know,¡± I grinned wider, ¡°that you¡¯d miss.¡± He struck fast, a sharp arc from right to left. I didn¡¯t flinch. Didn¡¯t move. His blade whispered past my throat, leaving the faintest of cuts. A warning. Then he smirked. ¡°But you get it, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Leon stirred. Opened his eyes. He smiled, far too kind for a man who unnerved even Manach. ¡°Apologies, gentlemen. I hope I didn¡¯t cause any trouble.¡± ¡°You just stood there,¡± Manach muttered, sheathing his blade. ¡°The trees were more of a damn problem than you.¡± I stretched my arms. ¡°Drink up. Eat up. Leon, get your things. We¡¯re moving.¡± ¡°No.¡± Both Manach and I turned to him at the same time. ¡°No?¡± Leon sat back, resting his hands on his knees. ¡°I¡¯ll stay. I am not a fighter, nor would I be of use in battle.¡± Honest. And my gut told me he meant it. I turned to Manach. ¡°He¡¯d only slow us down.¡± Manach nodded. ¡°Agreed.¡± Then, to Leon, ¡°Tell us, human. Where exactly are these bandits?¡± Leon unrolled a map and pointed. Our position. The camp. ¡°It¡¯s a cave entrance near the water,¡± he explained. ¡°They have guards outside. Lookouts. Scouts. Hunting parties. They¡¯re well-organized.¡± Manach¡¯s grin widened. ¡°All that?¡± ¡°How many?¡± I asked. Leon hesitated. ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure. Perhaps thirty. Maybe more.¡± Manach clicked his tongue. ¡°I like those odds.¡± I clapped him on the shoulder. ¡°Then let¡¯s move.¡± We turned, leaving Leon behind. He looked like he wanted to say something¡ªgood luck, maybe. Goodbye. But we were already gone. We moved in silence. Armored. Geared. Weapons ready. My shield rested over my shoulder, poised for a swift draw with a single slide down my arm. In my grip, my sword¡ªa Coldian blade, forged from deathplate and coated in sheer-cold runes. When activated, it shimmered with a pale, blue glow, channeling the infamous Coldian Slice¡ªa blade-stroke so sharp it cleaved the air itself, sending out a magic-laced arc that could cut at range as easily as it did up close. Hours stretched between us and the camp, but readiness wasn¡¯t an option. It was instinct. The information we had was simple. But to me, it told the whole story. Hunters. Poachers. That meant they had a supply chain¡ªhides, meat, coin. They weren¡¯t just surviving; they were profiting. Lookouts. They wanted to stay hidden. Secluded. Protected. Guards. A vanguard. That meant they weren¡¯t just passing through. They were here to stay. Scouts. They weren¡¯t just defending their ground¡ªthey were mapping it. Either for security. Or plunder. Probably both. This wasn¡¯t some ramshackle band of outlaws. This was organized. Structured. A company with a purpose. Mercenaries, maybe. Or something worse. Then there was the wildcard. Leon¡¯s friend. His bodyguard. A presumed royal. If these bandits had taken him by mistake, they were in over their heads¡ªeither scrambling to negotiate a ransom or figuring out how to disappear. But the likelier truth? They knew exactly who they had. They had tracked him. Followed him. This wasn¡¯t some random capture. There was a bigger game at play. The weight of my race, my Empire, sat heavily on this field. The world knew what happened when a Coldian was killed. There had never been an instance where it went unnoticed. Or unpunished. I could parley. I could leverage our names and our nation. But Manach? Manach didn¡¯t parley. Which meant this was going to end in blood. I whispered to him as we walked. ¡°Manach. We clear the outside. Fast and clean. I approach alone. You shoot from cover.¡± He nodded. ¡°When the outer guards are dead, we go in blind. But first, we take out the lookouts. Then we hunt the hunters. We don¡¯t leave scouts alive. No one watches our backs.¡± Manach raised two fingers. His index. His middle. Then, he lowered the middle one. I murmured, ¡°Agreed.¡± It was our silent sign. We split up. But not truly. He moved first. Manach was fast. Acrobatic. His armor was lighter, his steps near silent. He would go ahead, cutting them down in the dark, while I made noise¡ªa decoy, drawing their blades and arrows toward me. Like a patient predator, Manach would thin the herd. And I would butcher the rest. I moved in close. Too close. The whispers came first¡ªlow voices, unintelligible. Then, a man stepped forward. Human. Leather armor. Twin daggers. He wasn¡¯t alone. The fact that he dared approach a Coldian meant there were at least two more in the brush, flanking me. Chapter 7: The Unknown Cold I let him talk. ¡°Hold, stranger.¡± His tone was steady, practiced. I said nothing. Just stared. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t walk these lands alone. Are you lost?¡± He spoke common, rough and unpolished. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Then where are you going?¡± He was nervous now, the edges of his voice fraying. I tilted my head. ¡°Who are you?¡± ¡°Hey, hey¡ªI do the questions here.¡± He forced a smirk. But his body betrayed him. He was young, maybe twenty, and he knew this wasn¡¯t going his way. I stepped forward, slow. ¡°Are you sure?¡± ¡°I am,¡± he said, then flicked a glance left¡ªsignaling his men. Nothing happened. Because they were already dead. By the time he turned back, I was on him. Fast. Too fast. His blades never rose, his stance never shifted¡ªhis heart already had my sword through it. I wrenched the blade free and let him crumple. Somewhere in the dark, I heard the thick gurgle of blood. Manach at work. I walked on. The forest broke ahead. I heard water. A river. Coldstone Delta. Two more bodies in my path. Women. Their throats neatly cut. Manach again. They never even knew he was there. The clearing itself was tight. Good. Thick brush to the right¡ªdense, barely visible through. That¡¯s where they had their lookouts. Ahead, a sheer cliffside with a cave mouth cut into the stone. And to the left, running past the cave entrance, the river curved like a natural moat. Two guards stood by the entrance. They weren¡¯t slouches. Armor¡ªnot rags, but proper gear. Iron pauldrons, chainmail, hauberk. Well-kept swords, polished shields. Either they had coin, or they had stolen from someone who did. I didn¡¯t slow. The first guard spotted me immediately, stepping forward with a shout. ¡°You there! Stop right there!¡± No fear in his voice. Even after clocking what I was. Coldians had a reputation. He wasn¡¯t impressed. I stopped. Stared. ¡°How did you get here? Where are Marcus and the others?¡± His voice hardened. ¡°Dead.¡± A beat of silence. ¡°What?¡± The second one, his anger coming up fast. ¡°You killed them?¡± I smiled. ¡°No. I left them choking on their own blood.¡± That did it. The first man roared, rage overriding training. He didn¡¯t even reach for his shield¡ªjust wrenched his sword free and charged. The second started to ready his own shield¡ªtoo late. An arrow punched through his throat, bursting from the other side. Manach. The charger kept coming. Good footwork, good form¡ªtoo high. He was aiming for a full, overhead power strike. The kind that kills in one clean hit. The kind that leaves you wide open. I waited. Let him close the distance. The moment he swung, I stepped in¡ªsmooth, practiced. Shield up. Left foot forward. Sword turning. His strike hit my shield with a sharp, useless clang, and I shoved him off balance. He stumbled. That was all I needed. My sword lashed across his abdomen, deep and clean. His legs gave first, then his body followed, his insides spilling as he hit the dirt. Dead. Manach emerged from the treeline, bow on his back, daggers drawn. I pointed to the cave. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. We took our sides, peering in. The entrance was narrow, curling left into a blind turn. Nothing visible. Nothing to mark what waited inside. No choice now. We stepped in. We moved slow, steady. The blind turn opened into a cavern. Wide, wet, silent. A black pool sprawled across the rock floor, still as glass, its surface coated in patches of moss. The air was thick with damp, clinging to my skin, making every breath heavy. Stalactites jutted from above, their shapes twisted like frozen roots. The walls were uneven, natural formations carved over centuries. The space could hold ten men at best. But it was empty. Ahead, the cave continued deeper. Manach glanced at me. He was thinking the same thing. ¡°The water¡¯s trapped,¡± he whispered. I nodded. Of course, it was. A path wound around the pool, barely a ledge. Narrow, just enough for one at a time. I pointed. Manach didn¡¯t hesitate¡ªhe moved first, light on his feet, making no more sound than the shifting air. If something triggered, he¡¯d have the best chance of slipping away. Nothing. I followed, careful, slow. The trap¡ªwhatever it was¡ªnever sprung. The path narrowed into a tunnel, snaking deeper. No turns. No choices. The walls pressed in, and soon, we heard them. Voices. Close. We slid into a shallow alcove, barely enough to hide us. The stone dug into my armor, but comfort wasn¡¯t a concern. ¡°They should have been back by now,¡± a voice muttered. Deep. Rough. A dwarf. ¡°Maybe they ran into some kind of animal. Oh god, I hope they¡¯re okay.¡± A woman this time, human, young, worry thick in her voice. ¡°These are the Hinterlands, Nelle,¡± the dwarf rumbled. ¡°A million things could¡¯ve happened. Don¡¯t get your hopes up. But whatever happened, we¡¯ll find your sisters.¡± Manach and I shared a glance. Sisters. The ones he¡¯d killed outside. Nelle hesitated. ¡°Yeah, but Mister Garbosh, what if¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that,¡± Garbosh said. ¡°They¡¯re fine.¡± His tone softened. A pat on the back? A hug? Maybe. Unfortunate, I thought. They weren¡¯t warriors. Just people caught in something bigger. They kept walking. Manach moved first, silent as death. He slipped from cover, dagger in hand, and ghosted up behind the girl. His left arm coiled around her like a snake, his right hand drew a single, clean line across her throat. She barely made a sound. A breath. A whisper. A wet rasp as her body went limp. Garbosh didn¡¯t notice. He kept walking. I stepped out behind him, my boots crunching softly against the stone. Not loud. Just enough. He turned. ¡°Wha¡ª?¡± Too late. My blade punched through his throat, the steel biting deep, cutting the words before they could form. His body convulsed, fingers twitching toward his weapon. He never reached it. He sagged, gurgled, and crumpled at my feet. Manach¡¯s eyes gleamed. He wanted more. I understood. We moved on. The tunnel stretched deeper, the walls closing in. Crates lay scattered along the path, some cracked open, empty. Others still sealed, battered and worn. Leftovers. Spoils. Then, the air changed. The damp stink of the cave gave way to something else¡ªwarmth. The smell of burning wood, of cooked meat. There was a fire ahead. And where there was fire, there were people. We were getting close. The cavern opened ahead, a natural ledge giving us the high ground. I pressed my back against the rock, Manach beside me, his breath steady. Below, the camp sprawled across two sections, firelight flickering against damp stone. Nine tents. Twenty sleeping bags. In the center, a fire crackled, sending ribbons of smoke up into the cavern¡¯s ceiling. A woman tended the pot, alone. Four men sat nearby, swords belted but armor stowed¡ªtoo comfortable. Just beneath our ledge, a couple sat close, whispering about marriage. Hopeful. Beyond the fire, the cavern split with a shallow pool. On the far side, a lone warrior leaned against the rock, a greatsword at the ready. He wasn¡¯t relaxed. He was waiting. A sentry. And past him, the real prize. Crates, stacked high¡ªwine, sugar, fruit. A rack of weapons, all in good shape. And at the farthest point, a cluster of soldiers sat in tight formation, listening to a man twice their size. Behind him, fresh kills hung from hooks, two women working the meat. At the heart of it, the table. A man draped in royal finery lounged in his seat, heavy with rings and wealth. Across from him, slumped and weary, red-haired, red-bearded¡ªJorguh. Manach nudged me, holding up a small vial, swirling with dark blue mist. I knew what it was. Sheer Cold. Uncorrupted. Once opened, it would turn the air to ice. In a cave like this, it would do more than bite¡ªit would cripple. We had a tactic for these moments. The Unknown Cold. I nodded, secured my gear, and stepped out. Made just enough noise. The moment I emerged, the camp erupted. "Who the fuck are you?" a man barked. "A goddamn Coldian!" another spat. The couple below me jolted apart. The girl shrieked. The man scrambled backward, wide-eyed. ¡°Get away from here, monster!¡± I walked slow. Deliberate. Hands resting on my belt. ¡°I just want the dwarf.¡± A ripple moved through the camp. Soldiers shifted, fingers curling toward weapons. Across the cavern, the armored greatsword guard straightened, glaring down. "You can get him after I tear your limbs apart!" he roared. That was Manach¡¯s cue. The vial opened with a soft pop. The cold hit like a hammer. Warm, flickering fire turned to brittle frost in an instant. The cave air snapped from tolerable to lethal. Breath misted, limbs locked. Shouts turned to gasps. And then, the arrows flew. The greatsword guard staggered, his body convulsing from the shock of cold. He tried to move¡ªtried¡ªbut the shiver caught him first. His last. The arrow took him dead center, sinking between his eyes. He fell without a sound. The second arrow was meant for another. It caught the cooking woman instead¡ªpanicked, frozen in place, clutching herself for warmth. The shaft buried itself deep in her side. She collapsed. I moved. The couple clung to each other, desperate for warmth. My blade moved faster. One clean stroke. Two heads hit the ground. The lightly armored men reacted in panic. Two rushed me, shivering, desperate to end me before the cold ended them. The first never got the chance¡ªhe met the edge of my shield, his jaw shattering as he hit the ground, writhing in agony. The second fell to my sword, a clean diagonal cut that spilled him open from groin to chest. He died instantly. The last two fumbled for their weapons. Useless. The cold had already won. They hugged their bodies, too frozen to fight. Beyond them, the soldiers still sat. Frozen in place. The dwarf, too. But not the big man. He stood, smirking, his breath fogging in the frozen air. And the royal? He simply sat. Watching. Unmoved. Chapter 8: Unstoppable Force Manach kept firing. I kept cutting. The soldiers fell in gasps and spurts, their breath misting in the cold before silence took them. One by one, until none remained. And yet¡ªthey stood. The royal. The giant. Unmoved. Unbothered. Unnatural. Even as their men died, even as the frost gnawed the last breath from the women¡¯s lungs, they watched. Manach held his bow at the ready, but he didn''t loose. Not yet. Jorguh sat hunched, shivering, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Hypothermia would take him soon if we didn¡¯t move fast. I exhaled, shifting my stance. "Who are you two?" The royal man finally stirred. He rose with deliberate grace, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeve. His clothing¡ªsilk, gold embroidery, a wealth of rings on one hand. The other? A black leather glove, resting lightly on the giant¡¯s shoulder. His dark hair fell in loose waves from beneath a regal cap, perfectly maintained. His face¡ªageless, young yet ancient. A magician¡¯s face. When he spoke, it was in perfect Reaper tongue. "My name is Valinis de Conne. My companion is Lobos de Conne. We are brothers, travelers from the eastern lands." His voice was smooth. Unhurried. Calculated. Not a flicker of fear. I narrowed my eyes. "You answer too easily. Not afraid?" Valinis gave a small smile, almost pitying. "Afraid? No. You have done your work well. The dwarf is yours¡ªI have no use for him." A simple offer. Too simple. I frowned. "Before you go. What is this organization? What did we just hit?" Valinis tilted his head, thoughtful. "A band of bandits, I presume." A lie. A lazy one. But I didn¡¯t care enough to pry further. "Why leave so easily?" I pressed. "Why wouldn¡¯t I?" "You¡¯ve just lost your entire operation. Your men are dead. You should be screaming for vengeance." Valinis chuckled softly, like I had said something foolish. Then his voice dropped into something colder. "I do not want Coldian blood on my hands. It is bad for business." Manach tensed beside me. His breathing changed. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. I glanced at him. He hated that answer. "Like hell we¡¯re letting a snake like you slither away," he growled. "You die here." A fight. He wanted this fight. I exhaled, assessing. Valinis¡ªmage. A powerful one. The cold didn¡¯t touch him. That meant something dangerous. But magic had rules. Limitations. In a cave, with little space? It could either cripple him or make him deadlier. Lobos¡ªthe wild card. Huge. Bald. Thick arms like tree trunks. His mustache didn¡¯t suit his face, too small for a man that size. He carried a flanged mace big enough to be a longsword. Heavy. A brute. Maybe more. I had one thought: What is he hiding? Valinis sighed. "Agh. I had hoped we could avoid more bloodshed. But now? Now, you have offended Lobos." Lobos didn¡¯t speak. He reached into his pouch. A gesture. Manach fired instantly. The arrow flew true, perfect, slamming straight into Lobos¡¯ chest¡ªcenter mass, where the heart should be. Lobos didn¡¯t even flinch. He pulled a flask from his belt. Popped the cork. Drank. A thick, yellowish fluid. His eyes snapped open. They glowed. Alchemy. I didn¡¯t know enough about it. Neither did Manach. But we knew this¡ªpotions didn¡¯t glow like that unless they were something unnatural. I steadied my blade, activated my rune, and raised my shield. A slow step forward, then a Coldian slash¡ªa blade of sheer cold, cutting the air toward them. It vanished before it even got close. My gut twisted. Magic. Lobos hefted his mace and walked forward. No stance. No guard. Just a slow, deliberate advance, as if he knew we couldn¡¯t hurt him. Manach didn¡¯t buy it. Big men fall when you take their foundation. He loosed an arrow¡ªlow, right for the ankle. Lobos vanished. One blink. Gone. A rush of air. I barely had time to process before he was beside me, mid-swing, his mace already coming down. I just got my shield up in time. Then the impact hit. And suddenly, the world was crushing me. The force was impossible¡ªlike gravity itself had tripled, pressing down on every inch of my body. My spine screamed. My legs buckled. I couldn¡¯t hold it¡ª Crack. My shield shattered. A shield of deathplate. With Coldian coating. It should have been unbreakable. I barely had time to register that before I was airborne, launched backward like a ragdoll, slamming full force into the cavern wall. Something inside me snapped. Pain exploded in my ribs. My left arm folded at a sickening angle. My right shoulder wrenched. I hit the stone and collapsed, the shattered remains of my shield scattered around me in four broken pieces. Lobos had crushed it with a single blow. Manach tried to fire another shot, but before he could¡ª A corpse hurtled toward him. He barely dodged. Rolled. Came up with both daggers drawn, dashing forward. Too slow. Lobos read his movement like a book. He moved faster. The mace came down, a deathblow. Manach lunged instead of dodging, driving both daggers into the giant¡¯s abdomen. Lobos didn¡¯t react. Manach yanked the blades free, slicing as he pulled back, but before he could move¡ª Lobos shoved him with one hand. A casual backhand. A casual backhand. Manach stumbled, recovered, slashed¡ª Lobos moved again. A foot. A kick. But not just any kick¡ª A high, acrobatic snap-kick. Impossible for a man that size. Manach barely limbo-dodged under it, flipping back toward me. I tried to move. I couldn¡¯t. Not from pain. Not from injury. Something was holding me in place. I turned my head. Valinis. He was watching me. Manach stood his ground, shifting into a perfect close-combat stance. He never got the chance. An arcane spear materialized out of nothing¡ª Slamming through his right leg. Armor gave way. The spear drove through flesh. Manach howled. It was all Lobos needed. The mace came down. A final, bone-shattering impact. Both of Manach¡¯s arms snapped from the force. His legs crumpled under the sheer weight of the blow. He collapsed at my feet, broken, barely conscious. Lobos turned away. Done. Valinis approached. Calm. Unhurried. Untouched. "As I said," he murmured, looking down at me. "I do not want Coldian blood on my hands." His voice was like silk over steel. "Do not allow yourself to meet my gaze again." He turned and walked away. And just like that¡ª The hold on me vanished. I fell. Manach was already unconscious, barely breathing. I couldn¡¯t stand. My body refused. I looked up. The dwarf was moving toward us. Then¡ª Darkness. Chapter 9: The Fallout I knew I was unconscious. Or at least¡ªmy body was. My mind was awake. Thoughts moved, turning over like embers in a dying fire. I wasn¡¯t dreaming. I wasn¡¯t gone. I was just¡­ floating. Suspended in something that felt both calm and deeply unnatural. I had time. Time to think. A few days ago, I had no work. No purpose. Now, I was tangled in a storm of events, shifting pieces I barely understood. I started sorting them, piece by piece, organizing the chaos in my head. First Task: Find Sioh. That was the mission. That was what started all of this. But it was never that simple. There was too much surrounding it¡ªtoo many shadows, too many questions. Who was Aurelia? What had really happened? And the biggest question of all¡ª Was Sioh truly the first Coldian traitor? Unlikely. But plausible. Second Task: Kill a man. To even get close to unraveling the first, we had to complete the second. A name. Tjogg the Ship Mover. Nothing else. No history. No reason. Just an order¡ªremove the target. That would be our first real job. But we¡¯d need to reach Stonepeak first. That meant getting a boat. Third Task: Revenge. Personal. Unspoken. This one, I didn¡¯t need orders for. This one, I didn¡¯t need permission for. Manach and I shared this burden. Valinis de Conne. Lobos de Conne. Two powerful men. Too powerful. Unnatural. We weren¡¯t ready. That much was clear. But I needed to know. Who were they? Where did they draw their power from? And, most importantly¡ª How do we kill them? Stopping them meant only one thing¡ªManach and I would end their lives. Uncertainties. Even with everything clear in my mind, some things still didn¡¯t add up. First. Was Manach even alive? He took the full force of that final blow. His body had crumpled like a broken doll. I had barely been holding on. Was I even alive? Second. The dwarf. Shivering. Freezing. Dying. I saw it with my own eyes¡ªhis body breaking down from the cold. And yet, when I collapsed, he was walking toward us. Walking. That didn¡¯t make sense. Third. If Manach and I were both out, we couldn¡¯t send a runic message back to the Cold. Which meant someone would come looking. Which meant we were on borrowed time. Which meant the moment we woke up, we were in danger. The Cold doesn¡¯t tolerate failures. If our brethren found us like this, questions would be asked. We¡¯d be interrogated. We¡¯d be tracked. And just like that, we¡¯d be back to square one. Fourth. The strangest thought of all¡ª I had been running through everything in my mind, breaking it down, analyzing it. But I hadn¡¯t asked the most important question. Where was my body? Was I lying in that cavern, waiting for death to take me? Or¡­ Was something else keeping me alive? Even in this state, I felt tired. Not the exhaustion of wounds or combat. Something deeper. I had spent too long thinking, sorting through the wreckage of my mind. And now, it seemed, my body¡ªor whatever remained of me¡ªhad decided. I shut down. I don¡¯t know how long I drifted. Time stopped meaning anything. Then, the dream came. Vivid. Too vivid. Not the strange, fragmented kind of dream I sometimes had, but something clear. Structured. A place. I stood in a vast chamber. A grand hall, dominated by a table. Massive. Arcane. Veins of magic ran through it like living conduits, pulsing in shades of blue and violet beneath an expensive wooden surface. Emerald and ruby inlays shimmered in the dim light. Six throne-like chairs surrounded it¡ªfour on the sides, two placed at the head and foot. Everything reeked of power. Not just wealth¡ªpower. The kind of power that lingers in rooms where decisions are made. The walls were obscured. Not by shadow, but fog. I knew there were pictures hanging, ornaments decorating the space, symbols of some kind of history¡ª Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. But I couldn¡¯t see them. I could only feel them. A floating brazier hovered above the table, held by nothing. It radiated warmth, its platinum surface glowing with an arcane sheen, pulsing faintly in purple hues. I wasn¡¯t alone. They were there¡ªservants, maybe? They had no faces, just figures dressed in high-class attire, immaculate leather, and garments too fine for anything but royalty. They moved with precision, carrying food and drink that felt¡­ mine. Mine, and yet¡ª I was afraid of it. I directed them, telling them where to place things. Ordering. Commanding. Then, they vanished. I stood by one of the thrones. And she appeared. A woman, approaching from the fog. I couldn¡¯t see her face. Couldn¡¯t focus on her features. But my body knew her. A deep, unsettling pull¡ªsomething like love, something like terror. My chest tightened. It was the same feeling I had when I stood before Shadathor¡ªor at least, damn close. She spoke. I heard nothing. Yet I knew she was speaking. I nodded. Instinctively. Others entered. Their faces were hidden. Masks. One of them turned to me. "Master Konneus, it is a pleasure to meet you." Konneus? The name hit like a dagger to the gut. That wasn¡¯t my name. That wasn¡¯t me. I opened my mouth to speak¡ª And the world collapsed. Darkness swallowed everything. Then¡ª A feeling. Not a dream. Not yet reality. My eyes opening. And I still didn¡¯t know which world I was waking into. My vision was fogged. Heavy. Tired. Pain lanced through me, dull and anchored deep. My body felt weighted, as if pinned beneath stone. The first thing I saw was a ceiling, carved stone, polished and lined with marble markings¡ªtoo fine, too well-made for anything ordinary. I tried to lift my head. It was like dragging a boulder with my neck. A voice cut through the haze¡ªsoft, muffled. "Please, don¡¯t move." Female. But her tone was lost in the murk of my hearing. Age? Accent? I couldn¡¯t place either. I listened. There was no point in not listening. I let time pass¡ªten minutes? Twenty? Long enough to start feeling my body again. When I tried to move, the bed shifted, rising up with me. That¡¯s when I saw where I was. A medical chamber¡ªbut not just any medical chamber. Expensive. The kind only the wealthy could afford. An alchemical station stood nearby, cluttered with herbs, glass vials filled with liquids in too many colors, reagents I didn¡¯t recognize. Opposite, a shelf of medical tools¡ªsurgical equipment, bandages, herbal pastes. And beside that, arcane instruments, the kind used in magical healing. I didn¡¯t know much about them, but I knew money when I saw it. Someone had paid a fortune to keep me alive. A figure stood nearby¡ªa woman. Blonde. Mid-twenties, maybe. Medical garments. Beside her, a man in iron armor, helmeted, carrying a longsword. Guard. A bodyguard. That made sense. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± she asked, voice calm. Genuine. ¡°Fine,¡± I mumbled. I wasn¡¯t fine. ¡°Please, sir, I have to ask you some questions. It¡¯s procedure. Please answer honestly. Can you do that for me?¡± I nodded. She started again, same question. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± ¡°Like a mountain fell on me.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± She didn¡¯t react much, just absorbed the answer. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°Koch.¡± ¡°Okay, Koch. Nice to meet you. My name is Leliana. I am your caretaker.¡± She paused. Then: ¡°Do you know what happened to you?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Too vividly. ¡°Do you know how long you were out?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°You were unconscious for two weeks.¡± Two weeks. Where the hell was I? ¡°Do you know who brought you here?¡± she asked. This time, her voice held something else¡ªlike she already knew. I thought back. ¡°¡­Dwarf?¡± I muttered. She smiled, intrigued. Interested. ¡°Good,¡± she said. ¡°Do you know where you are?¡± I glanced around. The room told me nothing. ¡°No,¡± I admitted. ¡°Some kind of medical facility.¡± She nodded. ¡°You are in the City of Lampis,¡± she said. ¡°Now, rest. I will return with medicine, food, and anything else you need. After that, you may ask whatever you like.¡± It sounded rehearsed. Too clean. Before I could speak, she was gone, the guard following in step. And now, I understood why she had a bodyguard. Not because she didn¡¯t trust me. Because I was in Lampis. And here, Coldian blood was worth less than nothing. Then why was I saved? Even if I was worthless to Lampis, I was still Coldian¡ªand Lampis flew the Empire¡¯s banner. Lampis. The City of Lanterns¡ªor so I¡¯d heard. Never been inside. Always around it. Always on the outside, using the docks outside its great walls. The city was different. Unique. It sat in Sheer Cold territory, yet it wasn¡¯t ruled by the Sheer Cold Council. Not really. The docks¡ªthose were under Council control. But the city itself? Lampis was a fortress, walled off by Sheer Cold ice, cut off from the very people who protected it. I knew its history. Everyone did. Domino¡ªthe deity, the ruler of the Coldians¡ªcame here long before we existed. Before the Empire, before the Council, before we were anything. He lived here. Stayed. Thrived. Survived. They say he was helped. They say he was protected. From what, nobody knows. But when the Sheer Cold Council formed, Domino returned. And he made them an offer they couldn¡¯t refuse. Lampis took the deal. Protection. Independence. Trade. A city of humans, followers of the Religion of Dawn, worshippers of Lightrai, the goddess of light. One of the largest religions on Orbis. Maybe the largest. And its ruler, whoever he was at the time, used that deal. Used it well. Lampis became the trade hub¡ªthe bridge between the Sheer Cold Empire and the rest of the world. The ruler took the biggest cut, left the smallest margins for the Empire¡¯s protection fees. No Coldians allowed inside. No Lychen either. Only humans, merchants, tourists. We protected them. And they hated us for it. I never knew why. Once, this place had been nothing¡ªjust a village. Now it was a colossus. And rumor had it, a Trade La Grande was opening here. A Trade La Grande. The biggest market in the world. A place where anything¡ªanything¡ªcould be bought or sold. Wherever one appeared, wealth followed. Filthy wealth. Only two existed in the world¡ªRiveround City, in the east, controlled by merchant lords, and Mispel City, a sprawling megalopolis, the beating heart of crime, intrigue, power, and trade. Now Lampis was about to join them. The name Lampis itself came from its lanterns. A story¡ªancient, vague. In the darkest hour, the city had only one lantern left. One light in the void. One beacon of hope. And by its glow, the people survived. A city of light, in a world that was anything but. And yet, with all those thoughts running through my head, only one mattered. Where was Manach? Minutes passed. Then the door opened. Leliana entered, her bodyguard trailing behind. She carried a platter¡ªmeat, vegetables, fruit, water, and tea. A proper meal. And I hate to admit it, but I almost cried at the sight. She set the tray on a small table near me, then adjusted the bed so I could sit up. The guard took a seat across the room, uninterested. Didn¡¯t even look at me. Whatever reason he was here¡ªwhether to protect her or keep an eye on me¡ªhe clearly didn¡¯t care. Leliana, though. She smiled, bright and genuine, and for some reason, that put me at ease. ¡°This is all I could get. They don¡¯t normally give out food like this for a patient in serious condition.¡± A serious condition. Or a Coldian. I chewed, swallowed, then murmured, ¡°By that, you mean Coldian?¡± She hesitated. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t¡ª¡± I cut her off. ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean it that way.¡± I sighed, pushing my irritation down. ¡°I¡¯m grateful for this. Truly. But I have a lot of questions.¡± I wanted to be warm, to show appreciation. But I wasn¡¯t built for that. A lifetime as a High Elf, then a Coldian¡ªneither race was known for kindness. It wasn¡¯t in my nature. Leliana saw my effort, and she smiled again. ¡°I know. Ask away.¡± I thought for a moment, then said, ¡°The other Coldian that was with me¡ªwas he brought here?¡± Her expression shifted. ¡°Yes. But he¡¯s still in a comatose state. Urgent care. Critical.¡± ¡°Will he make it?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± No hesitation. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I won¡¯t let anything happen to him.¡± Genuine. Real. I studied her. ¡°You¡¯re just a caretaker, yet you speak like a doctor.¡± A flicker of frustration crossed her face. ¡°To be frank? Not a single doctor in this whole facility¡ªno, the whole city¡ªwanted to treat you.¡± Her voice was steady, but there was something underneath. ¡°The Coldians outside the city had no medical teams available. You were too far gone to be moved or teleported. So I took you under my care.¡± She straightened. ¡°One day, I¡¯ll call myself a doctor. But for now, you¡¯re stuck with an ordinary caretaker.¡± I didn¡¯t care about titles. ¡°Thank you.¡± I meant it. Even if I hated the situation. No magic. No alchemy. Just primitive medicine. It was pathetic. ¡°The dwarf,¡± I said, shifting the topic. ¡°He brought us with a human, I presume? Did they tell you how we survived the trip from the Southern Hinterlands to Lampis?¡± She nodded. ¡°Yes. They said a group of woodland elves helped stabilize you for the journey.¡± It sounded rehearsed. But genuine. Hinterland elves¡ªescaped slaves and mercenaries. Desperate to get on the Empire¡¯s good side. They wanted resources. Protection. And they were willing to work for it. Saving a pair of Coldian survivors? That carried weight. I pushed further. ¡°Where are the dwarf and human?¡± ¡°Somewhere in the city. They said when you wake, you¡¯ll find them.¡± She didn¡¯t trust that answer. Neither did I. One last thing. ¡°Final question,¡± I said, keeping my voice even. ¡°Why did your people let us enter Lampis?¡± Leliana¡¯s smile faltered. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She turned slightly, glancing at her guard. Uncomfortable. Then she cleared her throat. ¡°I have other patients to tend to. Finish your food. When you¡¯re ready, call for me. I¡¯ll bring what you need to walk, and I¡¯ll take you through the city.¡± I frowned. ¡°Why? I have no business in Lampis.¡± ¡°Oh, sure,¡± she said lightly. ¡°But I have a personal request. And I need to speak to you¡ªsomewhere else.¡± There was hope in her voice. Another task. I wasn¡¯t interested. But I owed her. She saved me. She was saving Manach. I needed to see him. ¡°Sure,¡± I said. The guard approached. Something about him put me on edge. Chapter 10: City of Lanterns Not the fact that he was armed and I was still wrapped in bandages, broken and unarmed. No, something else. Something was off. ¡°Koch. What happened to you?¡± His voice was gravel, deep and grumpy. I stiffened. ¡°Why would I answer your questions?¡± I hissed. A pause. Then¡ª ¡°Oh, my apologies. I forgot my manners.¡± The voice changed. The tone, the cadence¡ªwrong. And now, he was speaking Elven. A sharp, cold knot twisted in my gut. This wasn¡¯t right. He reached up and removed his helmet. The air crackled. A pulse of magic¡ªsmall, delicate, but real. Like dust scattering in sunlight. A normal eye would have missed it. The illusion fell. What stood behind the mask¡­ was another mask. Pure white. Featureless, except for two hollow sockets where eyes should be. And through those voids, magic pulsed¡ªveins of sheer cold energy, alive and shifting, woven into its very structure. This wasn¡¯t a disguise. This was his face. The black robe around him shimmered, its lining marked with Coldian runes, etched into the very fabric of his being. This was Laach. One of the Three Champions of the Sheer Cold Empire. The Shadowmaster. The hand in the dark, the whisper in the ear. Ruler of intrigue, espionage, rogues, assassins, scouts. The master of persuasion, deception, and stealth. I bowed my head, more out of instinct than respect. ¡°Apologies for my rudeness, Champion.¡± I murmured. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± His voice shifted¡ªnot in tone, but in accent. Ever-changing, ever-moving. ¡°Now, can you answer a couple of my questions so I can move on?¡± I nodded. ¡°Of course.¡± And I told him. Everything. From Rukh to Leon. Valinis and Lobos. The entire bloody, tangled mess of what happened in that short, doomed trip. He listened. No expression. No movement. A blank, white slate. I had to trust my gut to know if he was satisfied. A pause. Then¡ª ¡°Interesting. Truly interesting.¡± His voice drifted, slipping between tones and dialects. ¡°I want you to continue your work as you were.¡± Cold. Direct. ¡°You have my full permission to start a war if necessary. I don¡¯t care.¡± The air thickened. ¡°I want you to find everything you can about Sioh and Aurelia. Kill your targets. Get your revenge. I will aid you with information when the time calls. And I will know when that time is.¡± A pause. ¡°You don¡¯t need to think too much about it.¡± The way he said it. The weight of it. It wasn¡¯t a request. It wasn¡¯t even an order. It was just fact. A reality I could either accept or suffer for. ¡°Are we clear?¡± he asked. ¡°Or do you need certain directions?¡± I swallowed. The tension in the room was thick, pressing down like ice on bone. Say no, and something terrible would happen. ¡°All clear here,¡± I said firmly. Proudly. Laach tilted his head slightly, then moved to the door. ¡°I have other business,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll allow you one question before I leave.¡± His hand touched the handle. I wasn¡¯t ready. One question? He knew everything. I could ask anything. Anything. And yet, my mouth betrayed me. ¡°Why were we allowed to enter Lampis?¡± I murmured. Not the question I wanted. The last one that was left in my mind. Laach laughed. Low, amused. ¡°Stupid question,¡± he mused. ¡°Truly stupid. Like an idiot farmer asking a Coldian if he pisses ice.¡± He chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°They let you in because they¡¯re in the middle of a political situation that requires¡­ delicate care.¡± A pause. Then¡ª ¡°I¡¯ll tell you more, just to see the look on your face when I say this.¡± A quiet hum in his tone. Enjoyment. ¡°They want their own rules. Their own armies. A self-proclaimed government. A country. Everything.¡± ¡°They want the Coldians out of their lands¡­¡± ¡°¡­But they want a seat on the Council.¡± With that, he opened the door. And left. I sat there. Stunned. My mind reeled. Their own country? Their own laws? Their own armies? Who the fuck did they think they were? I was done. My body was wrecked¡ªbandaged, stitched, barely functional. One arm was usable. My legs? Weak. Every movement ached, every breath felt like dragging air through shattered ribs. Even talking hurt. I laid back. Nothing else to do. Leliana could wait. Tomorrow, I¡¯d call for her. I slept through the day. Through the night. A sharp flap of wings woke me. Morning. I blinked, shaking off the weight of sleep. Something felt¡­ different. My clothes. Clean. Soft cloth wrapped around me, unfamiliar but comfortable. Leliana¡¯s work, most likely. Food sat on the small table beside me¡ªmeat, bread, tea. The tea had gone cold, but I still appreciated it. I ate. Then, I decided. Time to get moving. Pain flared as I pushed myself upright, my spine cracking in protest. I coughed, tried to steady my breath, then forced out a weak yell. ¡°Leliana.¡± Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. A pause. The door opened. It wasn¡¯t her. A man stood there instead, dressed in medical garments. ¡°Shut up, imbecile. There are patients sleeping. We don¡¯t need you waking them up with your gawking.¡± His voice was pure hatred. He shut the door before I could even think of a reply. I wanted to get up and snap his neck. But I couldn¡¯t. Not yet. Moments later, the door opened again. Leliana. ¡°Sorry, I wasn¡¯t here sooner,¡± she said, genuine as always. ¡°Had some documents to fill out.¡± ¡°No worries.¡± I waved it off. Then¡ª¡°Who was that man?¡± She blinked. ¡°What man?¡± ¡°A man came in and told me to fuck off.¡± I chuckled, despite the lingering frustration. ¡°Oh. That must be Doctor Arnell. I work for him. Officially.¡± She smirked, fully aware of how much that annoyed me. I shook my head. Fine. Whatever. ¡°I¡¯m ready for this walk.¡± I met her gaze. ¡°One second.¡± She disappeared. Came back a moment later. With a wheelchair. A fucking wheelchair. I glared at it. ¡°I¡¯m not sitting in that. You said we¡¯d walk.¡± My voice was cold. ¡°You¡¯re in no condition to walk.¡± She smiled. I hate being called weak. ¡°Just watch me.¡± I forced myself up. Every muscle screamed. Every nerve burned. For a second, I was standing. Then¡ª My legs gave out. I crashed down, head smashing into the table, splinters flying. My injured shoulder slammed into the floor with a sickening thud. Pain didn¡¯t hit me. It paralyzed me. ¡°Told you.¡± Leliana lifted me¡ªeffortless¡ªand placed me in the wheelchair. She checked my head and shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re fine.¡± A small pat on the back. ¡°Stop humiliating me,¡± I growled. ¡°Sorry,¡± she murmured. And meant it. Then, without another word, she pushed the wheelchair forward. We left the room. The corridor stretched ahead, long and empty, its rows of closed doors sealing away the sick and the dying. We moved toward a set of massive double doors. I broke the silence. ¡°Where¡¯s Manach? My coldian ally.¡± Leliana didn¡¯t stop pushing. Didn¡¯t even hesitate. ¡°Room 246, second floor. We¡¯ll check on him when we get back, okay?¡± I glanced at a door as we passed. Room 122. Big hospital. The doors ahead swung open. Sunlight stabbed into my eyes. I winced, momentarily blinded. But still¡ªI was grateful for it. A breeze lashed my face, sharp but refreshing. I blinked through the light, taking in the city. Streets stretched out before me, crisscrossed by merchants and travelers. Buildings loomed, all manner of architecture jumbled together¡ªstone, wood, and metalwork melding into a strange, elegant chaos. Caravans rolled by, people in layered robes and fine tunics walked the polished stone roads. The place was clean. Almost too clean. We moved through the streets, Leliana pushing me along. We talked¡ªidle, easy conversation. Favorite food. Favorite weather. Nothing important. Nothing deep. But it felt¡­ nice. I took in more of the city. It was vast, each corner a different world. Ornate taverns stood beside stark merchant halls. Gardens bloomed in tight alleys, their vines twisting over rich stone facades. Shops crowded together, selling everything from fine silks to bottled medicines, even seashell pebbles, because people will buy anything these days. But two things were constant. The first¡ªthe lanterns. Every building. Every pillar. Every damn thing had at least four. And these weren¡¯t cheap, hanging rusted tin lamps. These were crafted, expensive. Always burning. A fortune in oil, wasted daily. The second¡ªthe hate. It followed us like a shadow. I noticed it quickly¡ªthe glares, the muttered curses. The spitting. Some subtle, some not. I wasn¡¯t a stranger to hatred. But this? This was old. I turned my head slightly. ¡°Leliana.¡± ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°Why do your people hate coldians so much? I don¡¯t recall us ever doing anything to you. The teachings don¡¯t mention it.¡± I frowned. ¡°We weren¡¯t even supposed to come here. Or harm you. Just¡­ protect you.¡± Leliana chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s tradition.¡± Tradition? I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Like the lantern thing? Hate for coldians is a tradition? Why?¡± She sighed, as if this was exhausting to explain. ¡°Two reasons,¡± she said. ¡°First¡ªreligion. Everyone here follows the Light. The Dawn. The goddess Lightrai. Light deems anything inhuman an abomination, a corruption of dark forces. Impure. Dangerous.¡± That¡­ made sense. The Cold and the Light had history. Wars. Clashes. Domino himself had battled their champions, supposedly slaughtering a Crusader of the faith. Leliana continued. ¡°The second reason? Lampis is where the first Coldian was created.¡± I stilled. ¡°What?¡± She nodded. ¡°Back then, it was just a village. The Elder of the time sacrificed himself to create the first of your kind.¡± The name struck like ice down my spine. ¡°Wuch? Wuch was created here?¡± The first Coldian. The only one who rejected Domino. Some say Domino killed him. Others whisper he became Laach. That¡¯s the problem with Laach. He could be anyone. Leliana shrugged. ¡°I guess that was his name. Yes.¡± I let the information settle. A tradition of hatred. It wouldn¡¯t change. Not now. Not ever. And yet, we were their protectors. The irony was thick enough to choke on. We passed a massive building. I studied it. Not a castle. More of a dome, with great pillars lining its perimeter. Flags of Lampis hung from every column, embroidered and shining in the light. The garden surrounding it was lush, a stark contrast to the rigid stonework. I tilted my head. ¡°What is that?¡± Leliana followed my gaze. ¡°That¡¯s the Parliament of Lampis. Seat of leadership.¡± I frowned. ¡°Parliament? I thought this place was a monarchy.¡± She shook her head. ¡°No. The city is run by a governor, but most decisions go through votes in the Parliament.¡± A democracy. Odd. Orbis had seen empires, tyrannies, kingdoms ruled by iron-fisted warlords. But a single city, not even a city-state, governing itself by vote? Interesting. We moved on. We stopped at a small park, nestled on the town¡¯s edge. It was beautiful¡ªtoo beautiful for a place like this. Flowers of every color swayed in the breeze, some I recognized, most I didn¡¯t. The scent was overwhelming. Beyond the garden¡¯s border, the land fell away, revealing the vast stretch of ocean, deep blue and restless. I had never seen anything like it. Leliana wheeled me to the edge of the park, positioning my chair so I faced the sea. Smart. No one could sneak up on me from here. Even if I was an easy target, I didn¡¯t feel uneasy. She settled onto a bench beside me, unwrapped a chocolate cream sandwich, split it in half, and handed me a piece. I took it. Ate it without thinking. She broke the silence. ¡°It¡¯s a nice view.¡± Her voice was calm. I chewed, swallowed. ¡°It is. Secluded. Peaceful. Just like you wanted.¡± A small, satisfied hum. ¡°Yes. I come here to clear my head.¡± A pause. Then¡ª¡°I need a favor.¡± I stopped chewing. Met her gaze. ¡°I understand. Let¡¯s hear it.¡± She exhaled, then forced it out. ¡°I want you to take me with you. Out of Lampis.¡± The words hung between us. I processed them. Let them settle. Didn¡¯t like them. At all. I stared at her. ¡°You want to leave? With two coldians? Outside the safety of this city? You don¡¯t even know where we¡¯re going.¡± I gestured at myself. ¡°You¡¯d be walking straight into the same danger. You¡¯d end up like us.¡± I watched her reaction. She didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°I know,¡± she said. ¡°Let me explain first.¡± ¡°No.¡± My voice was flat. Firm. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re getting into. It¡¯s not safe. And if you can¡¯t fight, you¡¯re just a burden.¡± Brutal. Honest. She didn¡¯t like that. ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± she snapped. ¡°I want out. I want freedom of choice.¡± I scoffed. ¡°You have that here. Even leaving. But coming with us? That¡¯s suicide.¡± Her jaw tightened. ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± A moment of stillness. Then she sighed. Shoulders sagged. The fight drained out of her. ¡°Please,¡± she said, softer now. ¡°Let me explain. Then you can decide.¡± I considered her. It was fair. ¡°Alright. Go ahead.¡± She took a breath, collecting herself. ¡°See, Koch¡­ it¡¯s complicated.¡± Of course it was. She looked out at the sea. ¡°I¡¯m the daughter of a Parliament member. One of the richest men in town. My father¡ªa chancellor¡ªwanted me in politics. That¡¯s all he ever saw me as. A smart girl. A useful piece on his board. But I didn¡¯t want that. I wanted to be a doctor. I wanted to see the world. He hated that.¡± Her hands curled into fists. ¡°I wasn¡¯t born with magic. No gifts. No affinities. So, as far as he was concerned, I was wasting myself. I fought him. Went to medical school. Graduated. Started work as a caretaker. But this city¡ªthis damned city¡ªis ruled by magic. By alchemy. Ordinary medicine is¡­ meaningless here. Not enough.¡± She exhaled, sharp and bitter. ¡°I accepted that. I wanted to learn alchemy. But my father made sure I never could. He blacklisted me. Used his influence. Four alchemists in the city. Four doctors. Not one would teach me. Not just that. Every book on alchemy was forbidden to me. Anyone caught giving me one? A criminal. A traitor. A Coldian sympathizer.¡± I listened. Didn¡¯t interrupt. Didn¡¯t need to. ¡°I didn¡¯t give up,¡± she continued. ¡°I stayed a caretaker. Kept working. But my father¡­ he never let up. Constant pressure. Constant control. Every door closed in my face. I tried the Governor. Nothing. I tried making allies. No one would risk it. I have no friends here. No one I can trust. No one. But then¡ªyou.¡± She looked at me. ¡°You and Manach. You¡¯re my chance. If you take me in¡ªto Coldian custody¡ªI can get out. You could claim I mistreated you. Or something. The Parliament won¡¯t fight it. They¡¯ll be happy to be rid of me.¡± She leaned forward. Desperate. ¡°What do you say, Koch?¡± I sat there. Staring at her. Tough life. ¡°The Parliament would be glad to be rid of you?¡± I frowned. ¡°And what of your father?¡± Her lips pressed into a thin line, but I wasn¡¯t done. ¡°You¡¯re the daughter of a chancellor. If you get taken into custody by two coldians¡ªfor mistreatment, no less¡ªdo you really think that would ease tensions between the Citadel and Lampis?¡± I could already hear the political fallout. This wasn¡¯t a simple escape. ¡°You haven¡¯t thought this through,¡± I said. She cut me off. ¡°Yes, I have.¡± Her tone was sharp. ¡°My father¡¯s hands would be tied. Because you¡¯d be using the law.¡± I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Law? What do you mean?¡± She leaned forward. ¡°The agreement between the Citadel¡ªthe seat of the Sheer Cold Empire¡ªand Lampis states that no harm shall come to coldians, no matter how much the people here hate you.¡± I already knew this. But I let her continue. ¡°If a coldian is mistreated, the Empire has the right to intervene. They can exert control, take people into custody, apply pressure. It¡¯s a rule that Lampis despises. They¡¯re trying to break it by getting one of their own into the Sheer Cold Council. But for that to happen, they need three things: Right now, they only have trade. The other two?¡± She shook her head. ¡°Not happening anytime soon.¡± I let that sink in. It made sense. And something about the political maneuvering excited me. I wasn¡¯t sure why. ¡°I understand,¡± I said slowly. ¡°But even if I accept, you¡¯d be a burden.¡± She cut me off again. ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± Her eyes burned with certainty. ¡°I¡¯ll stay out of your way. I won¡¯t question your decisions. I¡¯ll be loyal, under your custody, until you release me. Hopefully somewhere I can study alchemy.¡± I didn¡¯t appreciate the interruption. She noticed. Looked a little guilty. But I let it slide. ¡°What if we get into a fight?¡± I asked. ¡°I know how to run. How to hide.¡± She squared her shoulders. ¡°If I die, I die by my own free will.¡± So if she died, it would only be on my conscience. Funny. ¡°There¡¯s an easier way,¡± I said. ¡°We take you outside. Let you go. You could go to the Bloodclaw Lychen. Learn there.¡± She shook her head. ¡°No. If you release me, I¡¯ll be expected to report back to the Parliament with the outcome. If I don¡¯t, I become a fugitive.¡± She met my gaze. ¡°And you know what happens to fugitives.¡± I did. I¡¯d hunted one before. A kid. Barely fifteen. Had the bad luck to wander onto a coldian ship. The job was simple: retrieve him, bring him back. That¡¯s how it worked. That¡¯s the law. I wanted to say no. I really did. But I owed her. I exhaled. ¡°Alright. But the decision isn¡¯t just mine. Manach has to agree. We¡¯re a duo.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine by me.¡± The conversation ended. The sun had begun to set, turning the ocean into molten gold. We sat there, watching it in silence. Then, without a word, we made our way back to the hospital. I needed to check on Manach. Chapter 11: Bumps on the Road Leliana led me straight to Manach¡¯s room. Before we entered, she stopped. ¡°Before we go in, I need to tell you something.¡± Her voice was tight. Concerned. I frowned. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°You know how I said Manach was in urgent care?¡± She hesitated. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Well¡­ that¡¯s partly true.¡± A pause. ¡°He¡¯s actually on life support.¡± She braced for my reaction. I didn¡¯t give her one. Somehow, I already knew. ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡± My voice was steady. She looked shocked, like she expected me to lash out. I didn¡¯t. Couldn¡¯t. Not now. We stepped inside. The sight of Manach hit me like a blow. His whole body¡ªwrapped in bandages, tubes snaking in and out, machines forcing life into him. A coldian was already pale, but this? This was beyond pale. This was white. ¡°How bad is it?¡± I asked. Leliana swallowed. ¡°His neck, arms, legs¡ªalmost all of his ribs are broken. He had internal bleeding in the abdomen and skull. He¡¯s survived four seizures that I know of.¡± She took a breath. ¡°Medically speaking, it¡¯s a miracle he even made it here. And another miracle he¡¯s still alive.¡± She motioned to the tubes. ¡°These are the only things keeping him that way. His body is giving up. At this rate¡­¡± She trailed off. I clenched my jaw. This bastard. Manach was reckless, an idiot, a criminal, a hothead. But he was my partner. And he was strong. Would I have survived what he did? Probably not. ¡°I¡¯ll call for coldian healers,¡± I said. Leliana¡¯s face darkened. ¡°You can¡¯t.¡± I turned to her. ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°I already tried.¡± Her hands clenched. ¡°There¡¯s a rule¡ªno idea when it was made¡ªthat says all patients fall under the jurisdiction of the head doctor. In this case? That¡¯s Doctor Arnell. He decides everything.¡± I felt something ugly stir in my gut. ¡°He wants to pull the plug.¡± Leliana nodded, grim. ¡°I begged him not to.¡± My fingers twitched. ¡°That bastard is an alchemist. He could heal him.¡± My voice was cold. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Her silence was confirmation. ¡°What¡¯s his full name?¡± ¡°Honas. Honas Arnell.¡± Figures. ¡°He¡¯s an alchemist, right?¡± She nodded again. ¡°Then we take his potions.¡± There was an edge to my voice that even I could hear. I wasn¡¯t furious. Not visibly. But inside? I wanted to get up and kill him. Leliana hesitated. ¡°I don¡¯t know where his lab is.¡± I exhaled. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter.¡± I turned to her. ¡°You¡¯re with me now, right?¡± She studied me. Then she straightened. ¡°Yes. We agreed on the terms.¡± ¡°Then here¡¯s what I need.¡± She nodded, waiting. ¡°You take care of Manach and me. You try to find Leon Maldwse and Jorguh Rockut, if they¡¯re still in town. Tell them the coldians need them.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± she said. Then, ¡°I just don¡¯t know how long I can hold before Arnell pulls life support.¡± ¡°Then buy time.¡± She looked at me, expectant. ¡°What about you?¡± ¡°I heal.¡± She blinked. ¡°My blood¡¯s already speeding up recovery,¡± I continued. ¡°Give it a couple of weeks, and I¡¯ll be ready.¡± I met her gaze. ¡°Until then, we keep Manach alive. We get those potions¡ªforcefully if needed.¡± Leliana took a breath. ¡°Understood.¡± ¡°Good. First thing in the morning, go find those two.¡± ¡°I will.¡± She straightened. ¡°I¡¯ll sleep here. Just need to grab food and supplies. There¡¯s a bathroom, rugs, blankets. We have everything we need.¡± She turned toward the door, then stopped. ¡°Oh, and I¡¯ll get your gear.¡± Then she hurried out. Excited. I watched Manach. Just sat there. Waiting. ¡°If you die, I¡¯ll bury you in shit,¡± I whispered. Did he hear me? No way to tell. But in my mind, I could feel him laughing. I hoped he was. Leliana returned quicker than expected. True to her word, she had everything¡ªfood, supplies, even my gear. What was left of it, anyway. Armor? Cracked. Helmet? Untouched. Blade? Untouched. The armor could be fixed outside Lampis. The helmet and blade? That was all I really needed. She locked the doors from the inside, checked on Manach, then checked on me. Gave me some medicine. It tasted like a bird had shit straight into my mouth. Worked like a charm, though. Leliana changed into something comfortable¡ªsoft, expensive-looking pajamas. Said good night. Went to sleep. I sat there, watching Manach from my wheelchair. Eventually, I drifted off. Morning came. Leliana shook me awake. ¡°Food and tea,¡± she said. ¡°Manach¡¯s still the same. I¡¯m heading out. Please be careful.¡± She was already dressed, ready. I just nodded. She left. An hour passed. I sat alone, eating. Drinking. Thinking. Leon had said he knew some healing magic. Had he already used everything he had? Or had he not even tried? I needed answers. If he came. If he actually came. Then the door opened. A man in medical garments. Not Arnell. Some random guy. ¡°What the hell are you doing here?¡± I looked at him. Stayed polite. ¡°I¡¯m here with my friend. And I¡¯m not leaving.¡± He folded his arms. ¡°The Doctor said this place is off-limits to anyone but him from today.¡± A smirk bled into his voice. ¡°You should leave.¡± ¡°I¡¯d love to see who¡¯ll force me out.¡± I kept my voice even. That scared him. He left. Twenty minutes later, the door opened again. Honas Arnell. His face twisted with disdain. ¡°First, we save your lives, and now you make trouble? You coldians are all the same¡ªfilthy trash.¡± That was his hello. I inhaled. ¡°I mean no harm to you or your staff,¡± I said, keeping my tone steady. ¡°But I won¡¯t allow you to do anything to Manach while I¡¯m here.¡± He tilted his head. ¡°Manach? So that¡¯s the name of this vegetable.¡± A slow, cruel smirk. ¡°He¡¯s dying. And he¡¯s in pain. I was actually going to be merciful, pull the plug. But, you know what? I don¡¯t care. He can writhe.¡± I wanted to lash out. Get up. Drive my blade through his eye. Instead, I clenched my fists. ¡°You¡¯re an alchemist,¡± I said. ¡°Why don¡¯t you help him?¡± Arnell chuckled. ¡°Help a coldian?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Sorry. My skills are meant for people. Not animals.¡± Another smirk. He wanted me to react. I didn¡¯t. I wouldn¡¯t give him that. ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°Then leave. If you don¡¯t care, I¡¯d at least appreciate being left alone to watch my brother die.¡± Arnell¡¯s eyes gleamed. ¡°This is my facility,¡± he said. ¡°Both you and your pet are under my jurisdiction. I could throw you out, pull the plug, and dump his corpse to the rats if I wanted to.¡± I held his gaze. ¡°What¡¯s stopping you?¡± He sneered. ¡°You think you could run to the Parliament? Say I mistreated you?¡± He scoffed. ¡°Doesn¡¯t apply to me. My word against yours. And you? You¡¯re nothing.¡± I exhaled slowly. ¡°Then why haven¡¯t you done it?¡± His smirk widened. ¡°I don¡¯t want to touch filth like you. Would stain me for life.¡± I leaned forward, voice low. ¡°You know, even in this state, I could cut¡ª¡± He laughed. ¡°Pathetic.¡± Then he turned. And slammed the door behind him. The rage inside me boiled. Seethed. I growled. That was all I could do. For now. But I knew one thing. I would end this man. Didn¡¯t matter what happened after. Didn¡¯t matter who came for me. I would have his head. And I would make it hurt. Another hour passed. Then¡ªa knock. The door swung open. Leliana. Leon. Jorguh. Finally.