Pheo lay on the cot, staring at the ceiling of his assigned room. Sleep wouldn't come. No matter how he turned, his mind eventually circled back to the same question.
Who should I choose?
Anora, Sylira, Don, Wing… each name tugged at him with its own weight, its own possibilities. He pressed his palms to his eyes, willing the thoughts to stop. But the more he tried to decide, the harder it became.
Finally, with a frustrated sigh, he sat back up. The quiet hum of the camp at night reached him faintly, torches still burning in the distant corners. If rest wouldn't come, perhaps a walk would.
Slipping out of his room, he began to wander aimlessly. The night air was cool, carrying the distant sounds of clashing metal from some late-night training. His feet carried him down one path, then another, until eventually he noticed something unusual.
A crowd was gathering near the front gate. Murmurs rose from the cluster of operatives and recruits, voices tight with curiosity and unease. Drawn by the tension, Pheo wove his way into the crowd, squeezing his way between shoulders until he could see what held everyone's attention.
There, standing tall and unmistakable in the torchlight, was Elysia. The representative of The Concordists earlier. She was flanked by guards, their presence radiating authority and danger. Her uniform bore the insignia of her order, gleaming faintly under the torchlight.
Why is she here? What could she want with the camp?
He was still turning the question in his mind when her gaze swept over the crowd, then stopped. For a while their eyes locked, then recognition flickered in hers. Elysia's expression then hardened, twisting into anger as sharp as a blade.
"You!"
Elysia's voice cut through the noise of the gathered crowd, sharp enough to make heads turn. Her finger pointed straight at Pheo. The whispers rose into a wave of confusion, but before he could react, she surged forward.
Her hand shot out, grabbing his wrist in a tight grip. "You're coming with me," she hissed, not giving him a chance to argue before sprinting. The suddenness of her movement startled the guards for only a moment before they gave chase.
The heavy thuds of armored boots rang out behind them. "Lady Elysia!" one called, but her command came quick and firm. "Make sure no one follows!" The tone of authority in her voice cut off the protests.
Without hesitation, the guards turned their focus on the operatives and recruits who had begun to stir, blocking pathways and raising weapons to ensure no pursuit could break through.
Pheo struggled to keep pace with her, stumbling as she dragged him along winding paths. The camp blurred into a chaos of half-finished buildings and scaffolding, the construction area forming a labyrinth of beams, stone piles, and incomplete walls.
Elysia knew exactly where to go. She darted through side alleys and ducked under support frames, weaving through like she'd studied the place. Pheo barely managed to keep his footing as his lungs burned with each desperate breath.
At last, she pushed through a narrow path that opened up to a looming structure, The Crimson Hall. Its gates stood silent, closed to the casual eye. Elysia didn't hesitate to shove the doors open just enough to slip inside, pulling Pheo in with her.
The heavy wood shut behind them with a muted thud, swallowing the noise of the chase outside. Inside, the air was still. Dust motes drifted around lazily through beams of faint moonlight filtering in from the high windows.
Elysia exhaled, releasing his wrist at last. "No one will check here," she muttered, almost to herself. "Not tonight. After all, The Director just showed everyone that its private property owned by you."
She turned her gaze back to Pheo, sharp and unyielding, her anger from before still simmering. Meanwhile, Pheo leaned against the cold wall of The Crimson Hall, chest still heaving from being dragged halfway across camp.
He blinked at her, bewildered, trying to catch up to the whirlwind he'd just been swept into. "Elysia…" he managed, voice unsteady. "What's happening? Why are you–"
His question seemed to ignite her further. Her eyes narrowed, anger flashing like steel. "Don't you play dumb with me!" she snapped, stepping closer. "That night you had something, didn't you?"
She knew?
"Running around The Free City getting chased by one of Elion's personal bodyguards, it didn't even take a minute for me to figure it out." She closed the distance between them. "Just like how it didn't take you ten seconds to figure out that I was a high-ranking official of The Concordists!"
Her words lashed out, each one laced with the pain of betrayal. Pheo lifted his hands slightly in protest, though his voice stayed calm despite the weight pressing down on him.
"I didn't tell anyone because it wasn't the right time. I'd only just arrived in the city, I wouldn't know what either side was like, nor how they would react. Neutrality would be the safest and smartest option for someone like me."
He looked her in the eye, steady but tired. "And as for Elion… information that valuable? It needed to stay in the hands of people I could trust. Either with me… or those I knew for certain wouldn't use it recklessly."
"My hands are not the wrong hands," she snapped, but the crack in her voice betrayed her frustration. He held her gaze steady. "I didn't say they were. But the truth is, Elysia… I wouldn't know. And if I wasn't sure, then acting on my own would've been the best choice."
Elysia clenched her jaw, clearly unsatisfied with his answer, but she didn't speak immediately. Her fingers curled tightly into fists at her sides, the silence in the hall weighing heavy as she searched his face.
After a while, she spoke again, quieter this time. "You speak like it was nothing, like keeping that to yourself cost no one anything. Do you understand what information like that means? To us? To me?"
Her anger hadn't cooled, but there was something else beneath it now, something more fragile. Pheo pushed himself away from the wall, standing straighter, though he kept his tone calm.
"Look, I understand. But if I had spoken then, it would've been reckless. I didn't know who you truly were, or what you'd do with it. I barely knew the city at all. Neutrality was the only way to keep control of something that could tilt the city."
She narrowed her eyes, her gaze steady and unblinking. "And you thought you were the right person to decide that? A stranger, who just entered the city only recently?" Elysia asked him, her words questioning his worth.
"I didn't know if I was the right person," Pheo admitted. "But I knew that I couldn't risk handing it off to someone else, someone who would've done way more worse than Elion could."
For the first time since dragging him here, she faltered. Her posture stiffened, but her flare softened just slightly, as if the weight of his reasoning pressed against her own conviction. The hall fell into quiet again, broken only by their steady breaths.
Then, with a long, sharp exhale, she turned her head aside. "You're stubborn."
"Not stubborn. Careful." He corrected softly.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. The fire hadn't vanished from her expression, but her shoulders had lost their rigid edge. "Fine. I don't agree with the choice you made. But…" she sighed again, heavier this time. "I can at least see why you made it."
The silence that followed wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't hostile either. Pheo leaned back slightly, letting the tension bleed out of his shoulders. Inwardly, though, he couldn't help but wonder if she had always been this much of a handful.
They had only met once, and already she had dragged him halfway around the city, cornered him in his own property, scolded him, and now looked ready to tear apart half the city out of sheer frustration.
Elysia broke the silence first, crossing her arms tightly as if the gesture alone might steady her temper. "Do you realize how much easier this could have been? After what happened, the citizens were already looking for a reason to believe in us."
"If we had exposed Elion then, if we had shown them who he truly was, we would've had them in our hands." She exhaled sharply, turning her gaze away as though the thought itself stung.
"Instead, we'll have to scrape and claw for it all over again. Weeks, months even, just to rebuild the trust we could've earned in a single day." Pheo raised an eyebrow, half-exasperated and half-amused by her dramatics.
"...Are all royalties like this?" he asked dryly. "Do you complain like this all the time?" Her head whipped back toward him, eyes wide in disbelief. It was as if he had just insulted the gods themselves.
She stared at him for a beat, then narrowed her eyes. "No. Absolutely not." Pheo smirked faintly despite himself. Somehow, her outrage made the hall feel just a touch less heavy than it did before.
Her glare lingered for a moment longer, but then softened into something else, almost reluctant. She uncrossed her arms, her shoulders dropping just slightly. "Besides, it's not like you." she began, quieter now. "I already know you wouldn't expose anything about me."
Pheo tilted his head, caught off guard. "And what makes you so sure of that?"
"Because I saved you once," she replied without hesitation, as though the memory itself was undeniable proof. "You owe me, whether you like it or not. And you aren't the type of person to bite the hand that pulled them out of danger."
He opened his mouth, about to argue, but then closed it again. She had a point, even if she said it with the same sharpness she used to scold him. But then, almost as if she realized she was being too stern, her voice softened, eyes flicking away.
"And… besides, you're around my age. It makes things feel… easier, I guess. Less like I'm speaking to a stranger." Pheo raised an eyebrow at that. "Wait. How do you even know my age?"
Elysia froze for a fraction of a second, then crossed her arms again, looking anywhere but him. "Coincidence. I found out by coincidence. Don't read into it." He blinked at her, half amused, half bewildered. "Right. Coincidence."
He gave her a skeptical look, but she didn't elaborate further. The silence stretched for a while before she shifted, her expression softening. "You know," she began, "life in the capital is nothing like this place."
"Everyone there has a purpose, a role to fulfill. If you want to keep your place, you do your duty. If you don't, you're cast aside. That's the way it works there." Pheo listened carefully as she went on.
"And the strength there…" she said with a faint sigh. "The warriors in the capital are hundreds, if not, thousands of times stronger than the average person you'll find here. Over there, power decides everything."
"It's why royalty is chosen by strength. My father… he's the strongest in the capital. That's why he's royalty, why our entire bloodline is bound to it. And me, being with The Concordists, it's kind of like my escape from it."
Pheo considered her words, then asked, "So why does everyone strive for the capital then? If it's all just duty and strength, what's the point?" Her eyes brightened a little. "Because it's where everything from the old world is."
"All the technology that's left, whether recovered through research or stolen from ruins, it all ends up flowing to the capital. Knowledge, weapons, relics, history… If you're in the capital, you're not just surviving. You're advancing. Becoming part of the future."
Pheo let out a sharp laugh. "So people chain themselves for a chance at progress. Golden cages sound the same as regular ones no matter how shiny they are." That jab made her frown.
"...And what about here, then? Why do people stay in the Badlands? From what I've seen and heard, it's nothing but death and dust. Why not leave?" Pheo leaned back, expression shadowed.
"Leave? You make it sound so easy. The Badlands go on forever, the largest known area. Sand, wastelands, ruins. You could walk until your legs give out and still be nowhere closer to an edge. Most who try to escape die before they ever find one."
He paused, then his voice softened. "And then there are the ones who stay by choice. Hoping to make it big. To find something hidden in the wastes that could change their lives. An artifact, a ruin, a treasure."
"A way out. For some, the Badlands is the only chance to gamble for something greater." Elysia studied him closely. "...And does anyone ever actually find something like that?" Pheo smirked, though it didn't reach his eyes. "If they did, they would stay anonymous for the sake of their safety."
"But people still cling to hope even if it kills them. Especially if it kills them." The air between them grew heavy with silence, as if both were measuring the weight of the other's truth.
Finally, Elysia exhaled, her voice gentler than before. "So… in the capital, people fight because they have too much to lose. But in the Badlands, they fight because they have nothing left to lose."
Pheo gave a low chuckle. "Guess we're not so different after all. Just trapped on opposite ends. The capital being a golden cage while the Badlands being an old dusty one." The weight of their earlier words began to fade, replaced by something lighter.
They found themselves still leaning against the cold walls of The Crimson Hall, voices softer, no longer sharp with accusations or defense. "So," Pheo said after a beat, a small smirk tugging at his lips, "are others from royalty as bossy as you?"
Elysia gave him a flat look, though there was a flicker of amusement beneath it. "Not all. Just the competent ones."
He chuckled under his breath. "I'll take that as a yes."
Her lips curved into the faintest smile. "You're insufferable."
"Maybe. But admit it," he leaned a little closer, lowering his voice. "It's easier talking like this, isn't it? No titles. No walls." She hesitated, but didn't deny it. "...Maybe. It's strange though. I don't usually speak this freely."
"Then maybe that says more about the company you keep than about me," he teased, though his eyes softened as he said it. Her answering laugh was quiet, almost surprised, as though she hadn't meant to let it slip.
They exchanged glances, and for a fleeting moment, it almost felt like neither The Capital nor the Badlands existed. Only two people with stories too different, two different worlds yet bound by some thin thread of familiarity.
They spoke about smaller things after that. The food in the camp, the ridiculous way the guards stood at attention for hours, even the way the wind never seemed to stop whistling through the tents at night. Their conversation lost its edge and became easy, unforced.
It only broke when the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder. Lanterns bobbed in the darkness, voices calling. "Lady Elysia!" one of her guards shouted, relief mixed with sternness.
Elysia straightened almost instantly, composure sliding back over her like a veil. She gave Pheo one last look. This time softer, almost reluctant. "Looks like that's my cue to go."
The guards reached her, bowing their heads respectfully but eyeing Pheo with suspicion. She waved them off before they could question him, saying simply, "I'm coming." As they guided her way, Pheo stayed where he was, watching her go.
And though the night closed in again, his chest didn't feel as heavy as before. For once, the Badlands didn't seem so cold. He leaned back against the wall, letting the cool stone press into his shoulders.
His thoughts began to wander, back to Kael's smirk when they parted, to the promise he had made.
I'll explore the Badlands.
The words felt heavier now. He'd spoken them with such certainty, but standing here, he realized he didn't even know where to begin. The badlands stretched endlessly, a place so vast and merciless that most people never returned once they left the safety of The Free City.
How was he supposed to start unraveling its secrets when he could barely walk without feeling the tug of his injuries? His fingers brushed his side absentmindedly, wincing at the reminder of his condition.
Charging out into the desert now would be foolish, suicidal even. But that didn't mean he had nothing to do. A thought surfaced, unbidden but persistent. The cistern vaults, the old ruins hidden there.
If there were still truths of The Old World there, if the answers tied to his mother's curse, or anything that seemed useful at all, then maybe he should give the place a thorough search.
And unlike the wilds of the Badlands, the ruins didn't require a long journey. They were right beneath his feet. He exhaled slowly, the decision settling into him like a stone dropping into still water.
He wouldn't waste the time of recovery doing nothing. If he couldn't push into the endless desert just yet, then he would find a different way to advance. With that thought firm in his mind, Pheo finally pressed his hand against the wall to reveal the hidden entrance.
The Crimson Hall, his new home, loomed silently behind him, but it was all just a cover. A grand distraction for what's really of value down here, a grand machine hidden in the depths.