The sun barely touched the horizon when Moira stirred. A warm breeze drifted through the trees, carrying the faint scent of smoke from the dwindling campfire. Pale light painted the clearing in soft gray-blue hues. Moira lifted her head from the nest of her cloak and turned, sensing movement—soft, hushed, deliberate.
Lucian sat near the fire, cloak loose around his shoulders, hair mussed in a way that suggested sleep hadn't come easily. Kitana knelt beside him, tying the final knot on her boot strap, though her hands moved slower than usual—thoughtful. Her eyes kept flicking toward him. His kept finding hers. Something unsaid passed between them like a secret only their bodies remembered.
"You're both up early," Moira murmured, her voice soft with sleep.
Kitana stiffened slightly. Lucian only smiled, smug—but...knowing. It was subtle. The kind of smile that lingered too long.
Moira tilted her head. "Did either of you actually sleep?"
Lucian shrugged. "Didn't need to."
Kitana's brows furrowed. Her heart felt strange—like something was missing and something else had taken root. Her body still ached in places she couldn't name, not with pain, but... hunger. Her gaze flicked to Lucian's hand as he fed a branch into the fire. Just his hand, but her breath caught. Why?
She looked away. "I'm fine," she lied quietly.
They broke camp not long after, slipping back onto the road with practiced ease. The sky above was clear, the air crisp. Birds stirred in the trees, and distant smoke marked life beyond the ruined woods. Kitana walked with more ease than usual—no longer hiding behind a cloak, no longer afraid of glowing eyes or twitching skin. Her half-demon nature was easier to silence now. Easier to carry.
For the first time, she looked at the world. The town in the distance—she could finally see it closer , better , but structures were shaped differently. The banners bore symbols she didn't recognize. The people wore steel bands across their arms and belts, tools she couldn't name. Children played with spinning glass globes of light. Now she could see , it was so much different from what she could remember
She slowed. Her throat tightened "…What," she whispered, "is the year now?"
Lucian looked over his shoulder, thoughtful. "By calendar reckoning? It's the 942nd year of the Sundered Concord."
Moira added mockingly "You call it the Sundered Concord but that name is only used by the Khipia, after the king told us the so-called last celestial war ended. When the skies tore and divinity was broken. Lies for power"
942th
She had been taken in the 412th. Back when people still whispered about the fall of angels, when kings feared the divine, not daring to use it for power. Back then they would never mock the divine like this. She had known the name Sundered Concord—but it hadn't meant this.
Five hundred and thirty years. Her world wasn't just gone. It had become history.The dirt path tilted under her. Her knees gave, just enough to make her stumble. Lucian was there before she hit the ground. His arm wrapped around her waist, the other catching her wrist, pulling her close. Her cheek brushed his chest, breath catching as his warmth anchored her in place. Her heart pounded wildly against his. She looked up, into green eyes. That impossible color—soft, sharp, real. And somehow, it made everything stop. Her pulse. Her panic. Even the ache behind her ribs.
Moira's voice came, distant. "Kitana? What happened?"
Kitana swallowed, leaning into the hand pressed gently to her back.
"I guess…" she exhaled slowly. "I need more sleep than I thought."
Lucian didn't let go for a long time. They arrived at the guild headquarters in silence, the same gray building nestled between towers and worn alleys. The Whuxg Guild emblem glinted above the entrance, almost mocking in its stillness.
The man behind the desk was the same as before—stoic, bald. He looked up, unimpressed, as the trio approached.
"We killed the first vessel," Lucian said.
No change in expression. No shock. Not even a surprise. Kitana narrowed her eyes. "You're not surprised."
"I'm not," the man said calmly, folding his hands. "Which is why I can't help you further."
Lucian's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," the man said, voice flat, "you're now a problem. One I can't be seen encouraging."
He gestured toward the door. "Good luck."
The dismissal was so clean it scraped. Kitana's fists clenched. Fury swelled hot beneath her skin. She stepped forward—but the moment her hand reached for the door to re-enter, a ward sparked, blue runes flaring to life and slamming her back with a force that stole her breath.
Lucian caught her again, jaw tight.
"You bastard," she hissed, barely restraining the snarl rising in her throat.
A voice came from behind them—silk over steel "He's not going to help you anymore."
They turned.
A woman stood in the hallway. Slender, white sharp-eyes, dressed in a dark violet coat stitched with silver. A secretary's badge glinted on her collar, but the way she held herself suggested deeper knowledge. She stepped closer, heels clicking.
"I'm his secretary," she said. "But unlike him, I actually believe in results."
Moira narrowed her gaze. "What do you know?"
The woman smiled—cold, knowing. "Because he doesn't want the high demon dead."
Kitana stepped forward. "Why?"
"Because Merikh," she said smoothly, "keeps the chaos in check. Without him, the other demon lords would tear the region apart. The guild profits from stability. So as long as Merikh remains in control—horrible as he is—there's an order."
Lucian growled low in his throat. "You think that's better?"
"He thinks it's profitable," she replied.
Kitana's eyes burned. "We have nothing else. No other lead."
The woman's smile thinned. "Then hear me." She handed them a folded parchment. The seal bore the mark of something old—something not guild-approved.
"Go to the Bantois Forest," she said. "There's something there the vessels are afraid of. Something even Merikh watches."
Moira frowned. "Why help us at all?"
The woman's eyes glinted. "Because I like change."
Then she turned slightly, as if preparing to walk away—but paused "If you're serious about crossing Bantois Forest," she added, her tone turning cool again, "you'll need to stop in Draettin first. It's the last city before the tree line. You'll find... help there. Of a kind."
Kitana stepped forward. "What kind of help?"
The woman smiled, but there was no warmth in it—only mischief and something older, stranger. "Not everything comes easy, dear. Especially answers."
And just like that, she was gone. No sound. No flicker. She simply stepped into the hallway and vanished—like smoke whisked by wind. They stood in silence, the echo of her departure still heavy in the air.
Lucian broke it first laughing "That wasn't suspicious at all."
Moira crossed her arms. "We're trusting someone who enjoys chaos and refuses to explain herself. I don't like it."
"She knew about the vessels," Kitana said. "She knew what the guild was hiding. That's more than we've had since this started."
Lucian frowned, clearly weighing her words. "Still doesn't mean she's not leading us into a trap."
"Then we watch for traps," Kitana replied simply, voice steel. "But we go."
Moira stepped closer to her. "Kitana... you're starting to sound like—like this isn't about surviving anymore."
Kitana's expression didn't change, but her eyes flicked toward the parchment in her hand. "It never was."
Lucian exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "This isn't Fellspar. We're not walking. We'll need horses."