'So she has a rank four…'
Kael cast one last glance over his shoulder before stepping through the wall and back onto the street.
He had never been able to determine how Syleena managed to survive the death sentence placed upon them. He himself had only endured because Claymore had intervened, hiding him when the purge began.
He was certain Syleena had not been so fortunate.
Yet he had never doubted she would find a way.
And she had.
Exchanging heirs between noble families was common practice among the great houses. But it was equally common for those families to leave their children with some form of hidden safeguard.
In Syleena's case, it appeared to be a rank four mote.
One capable of weaving illusions and creating a temporary sanctuary.
Pale moonlight reflected off his skin as he turned the corner.
His steps slowed to an unhurried pace as he approached the market.
The spears had long since dissolved, but the Luminaires still lay scattered across the square like a carpet of bodies.
'Leaving it for tomorrow?'
Kael nudged one of the corpses with his boot. The body rolled over stiffly, already hardened by the cold.
A young woman's face turned toward him, wide lightless eyes meeting his.
Kael tilted his head as he studied the body.
'Lightless?'
Lightless they were, but… weren't they a little too dark?
Kael flicked his coat aside and crouched closer. The body had a gaping hole through its heart, undoubtedly dead, but her eyes…
They didn't even reflect the moonlight.
Kael placed his hand against her cold cheek and released his Will.
A scoff slipped from his lips as he stepped into her inner realm.
Wide black cracks drifted through the open space. They floated slowly, suspended in the white void like fragments of a shattered mirror. Kael reached out, and one of the cracks brushed against his palm before bouncing away again, spinning lazily as if gravity itself was only a suggestion here.
'This shouldn't even be possible.'
His gaze hardened.
When a person died, their inner realm collapsed soon after. It was inevitable. The soul faded with the life that sustained it. Without its host, the realm unraveled and dissolved into nothing.
Yet here he stood.
Inside the inner realm of someone who had been dead for more than half a day.
Kael reached out and caught a drifting tear of blackness in his hand.
White, spiderweb-like threads stretched across the void around it, thin strands piercing into the edges of the crack as though stitching the realm together and refusing to let it split apart.
Kael pinched one of the strands between his fingers and pulled.
A sharp metallic cling rang out.
The moment the thread snapped, Kael released it.
The reaction spread instantly.
Another strand broke.
Then another.
And another.
One after the other, the fragile web collapsed until nothing remained to hold the tear together.
The black fissure swelled.
In an instant it expanded, ripping through the white void until it towered over Kael like a massive wound in reality itself.
Then it stopped.
For a long moment it hung there, vast and silent, like an eye staring down at him.
Then the tear slowly drifted past him and continued on its path, as though Kael had never been there at all.
A sharp scream cut through the void.
Kael turned his head.
Someone else was here.
He began walking toward the sound, only to stagger as his knee struck something solid.
A woman resting on her knees lurched forward onto all fours.
Kael's gaze drifted downward.
Her presence was so faint he had failed to notice her entirely, even though she had been only a few steps away.
She struggled, pushing herself back onto her knees as she turned toward him. Red streaks stained her cheeks where tears had run freely down her face.
The moment her eyes met Kael's, something close to relief spread across her expression.
She stumbled again but forced herself upright, throwing her arms around him. She buried her face into his chest, tears soaking into his coat in dark streaks.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't want to die… I don't want to die."
She clung to him, trembling.
'How is she still here?'
Kael's arm hung loosely at his side. By all accounts, she should have been dead. He had watched her get speared.
"It's alright."
He rested a hand on her shoulder, reassuringly.
His gaze shifted past her, toward her Will. It was faint, barely holding shape, its current chaotic and unstable. The only reason it hadn't collapsed entirely was because of the same thin, spider-like threads desperately holding it together.
"I'll take a look at your Will."
He had barely taken a few steps when a sharp cry cut through the space.
"NO! Please don't leave me!"
Her voice cracked into sobs.
Kael paused, then extended his hand without turning.
"Come then."
She grabbed it immediately, clinging to him as they moved.
'She must be struggling to even understand what's happening…'
It made sense. From what he could see, it was already a miracle she could form words at all. Her inner realm was fractured, unstable to the point where she had regressed into something simpler. Something closer to a child.
Kael bent slightly, offering a small, reassuring smile.
"What's your name?"
She hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Maria."
"A beautiful name."
He nodded gently, then gestured toward the threads woven through the River of Will.
"Do you have any idea what these silver threads are, Maria?"
Her gaze followed his.
"I was told it was something forbidden. That's all."
There was a hint of shame in her voice.
'Forbidden? In the same sense as Eireindaile's ambush in the market… or forbidden in the sense that speaking of it would get you executed?'
He stepped closer to the river and reached out, snapping one of the threads.
"D—Don't do that!"
Maria's grip tightened around his hand.
"Why not?"
"It hurts when you do that."
Kael's gaze stilled.
'Soul pathway… it has to be.'
Kael couldn't think of another pathway that could have such a pronounced effect on someone's inner realm. Simply put, whatever this was, it was forcefully holding her realm together by burning through what little remained of her Will.
'No… that's not entirely true, is it.'
For a mote to achieve something like this, it would have to be closer to rank five. Of that, he had no doubt. And yet… she had survived for almost an entire day. That alone didn't make sense.
It was only a hunch, something closer to a qualified guess, but he suspected the effect wasn't coming from a single mote. It felt layered. Constructed. As if two or more lower-ranked motes were being used at the same time to replicate something far greater.
If that was the case, then it made sense.
Lower-ranked motes would consume less Thought.
She could sustain them longer.
'Then… wouldn't that make this a mote art?'
The thought lingered.
He knew of them, of course. Rare. Something most Luminaires never managed to achieve.
In essence, it wasn't so different from activating a mote. But the difference that mattered was this: a mote art was the simultaneous activation of multiple motes, layered together to produce a new effect.
If one ignored compatibility for a moment, the simplest way to imagine it would be combining something like Stone Coffin with Titanwood Stalker. The result wouldn't just be both effects active at once, but something new entirely.
A Stone Coffin that was nearly impossible to detect perhaps, or maybe even a completely new, unimaginable effect.
So far, it made sense, but there were still things that didn't add up.
First, a mote art alone was already difficult to create. It aligned with the refinement path, something very few Luminaires cultivated. Then came the cost. While a mote art could mimic the output of a higher-ranked mote, it didn't bypass the Thought consumption required to sustain each individual mote.
That was the second problem.
Even if someone managed to gather the right motes and understood how to combine them, they rarely would have the resources to maintain it. Without enough mindstones or proper sustenance, the motes would start feeding on their Thoughts instead, forcing their natural Thought production into decline.
"Wait…" Kael's gaze shifted toward Mary. "Are you from Velthoria?"
He asked.
"No… I'm from Farkath."
Her voice carried a trace of uncertainty.
'So that's it.'
Understanding clicked into place.
He hadn't just found a survivor.
He had stumbled upon one of the attackers.
With Eireindaile backing her, the issue of resources disappeared entirely. Mindstones, sustenance, whatever was needed to keep multiple motes active for extended periods, all of it would be provided.
But why would Eireindaile invest this much into keeping her alive?
Kael was just about to speak when something pressed against his shoulder, pulling him back to the present. A man stood beside him, hand resting there firmly.
"What are you doing here, young man?"
Kael straightened to his full height and let out a slow exhale.
"I knew her…"
The man paused upon hearing those words.
"I see…"
He gave Kael a few steady pats on the back.
"They sure got us this time…" he murmured. "Get out of here and let us old folks handle the cleanup, you've seen enough already."
With that, he bent down and carefully lifted the woman.
"This is the one you knew, right?"
There was a softness in the way he handled her, as if the knowledge alone demanded it.
Kael gave a small nod.
"All the victims will be personally examined by Valthorne, then a mass funeral will be held at the graveyard. That's the next time you'll be able to see her, I'm afraid."
'Is that it?' Kael's mind churned.
Was Eireindaile planning some layered, misdirected attack? Had they anticipated Valthorne's reaction, that they'd come to examine the bodies himself, and planted Maria among the half-dead as a second strike?
Kael slipped a hand into his coat pocket and watched Maria's lifeless body disappear into the distance.
He wanted to study the remaining corpses, but he knew he was already pushing his luck. Eireindaile had raised enough bodies to send Valthorne into something close to a panic, and that panic was the only reason Kael could wander around this freely. It wouldn't last. They'd start confiscating people soon enough.
And that was why time was running thin. He had something to do that he'd been dreading.
The buzz of the market square fell away as Kael closed in on the familiar stone building. He kicked the snow from his boots, ascended the steps, and pushed open the oversized door into the old church.
It usually held a handful of people seeking warmth or murmuring prayers. Today it was empty, except for the distant sound of voices.
Kael tilted his head and ventured deeper.
'What on earth is happening in the black market for me to hear it all the way here?'
The church was completely unsupervised. He thought about snooping for a moment, then decided against it just as quickly. He headed down the stairs and the sounds grew clearer.
Not the laughter of drunk Luminaires, not the back-and-forth of vendors and buyers. Something closer to... shouting.
Kael slowed his steps.
The black market was in complete disarray. There were so many Luminaires packed in that they could have filled the church above several times over.
The bar's door had been torn clean off its hinges. Glass fragments dotted the floor like scattered bubbles. Luminaires argued in clusters, voices raised, cursing each other out.
A young man came running toward Kael and stumbled onto the stairs at his feet.
"They killed someone." He looked up, breathless. "They actually killed someone."
He scrambled upright and bolted for the exit. But before he could make it, Kael caught him by the collar and the man jerked to a stop, grabbing at Kael's wrist as he turned to look at him. His face went pale.
"I... I don't want anything to do with it."
"What's happening?" Kael asked.
He held the young man there, pulling every answer he could get out of him. Then he followed him up the stairs, grip firm around his collar.
'Seems like someone had the same idea as me.'
When Eireindaile launched their attack on the surface, the underground market had collapsed into chaos too. Luminaires scattered like startled birds, and some had made straight for the black market, hoping to grab what they could in the confusion. The shopkeepers and the Luminaires with some semblance of decency had caught up eventually. What he was watching now was the aftermath.
Kael snickered.
But it wasn't their behaviour that bothered him. It was the fact that so many had beaten him here. He had underestimated just how foul Luminaires could be. Really though, who gets attacked by a common enemy and decides to go looting?
He shook his head and let his hand fall to his hip.
His coat fluttered as a sharp thrust cut through the air. The young man's eyes widened, hands flying to his chest. A few empty breaths escaped his lips, then he collapsed.
Kael sheathed his knife, dragged the man to the corner and propped him against the wall. He pulled a nearby chair over and sat down, resting his chin in his palm, eyes fixed on the entrance.
It didn't take long before another man came crawling up the stairs, breath ragged.
"Help me." Blood ran from his eye down his chin in a soft stream.
Kael walked over and crouched beside him. One quick draw, and the Luminaire slumped. He tossed him onto the first and sat back down.
With every passing moment the shouting grew, and the violence with it.
It didn't take long before the next Luminaire came stumbling up the stairs. Then another. The pile behind Kael grew wider with each one, and by now he was stacking them on top of each other instead.
"Someone from Eireindaile will have to pay me for this," Kael murmured, dragging the chair across the floor and settling down just in front of the entrance, hiding the growing pile behind him.
He was fairly confident the black market was low on Valthorne's list of priorities right now. But that didn't make this easy. It hadn't even been a day since the fight with Lucian. His Thoughts were far from their peak, forcing him to fall back to more traditional means, and his mental strength was constantly tested by the dull, grinding pain of the bandage against his arm...or what remained of it at least.
Tossing the final body onto the pile, Kael decided to head down himself.
His initial plan had been to grab as much as he could before drawing too much attention, but that had flown out the window the moment he saw the crowds below.
The black market was unrecognisable. Blood ran through the cobblestones in small rivers. Corpses littered the floor, scattered like leftovers. Most of the remaining Luminaires were slumped against walls, and those who still had anything left were tending to them. Far off, beyond the bodies, a few fist fights still raged on as their Thoughts reserves ran dry.
'Valthorne will not be happy with this.'
If Vael saw the killing going on down here, he'd finish the job himself. They needed every Luminaire they could muster for what was coming, and now they were tearing each other apart like animals. Eireindaile couldn't have dreamed up a better outcome.
Wet sounds echoed as Kael stepped onto the bloodied stone.
He hated dealing with Noble families. Wars had predetermined outcomes for a reason — they were a consequence of intel, and Noble families had resources enough to drown cities. Pour all of that onto a single target and nothing stayed predictable. Who was to say Eireindaile hadn't planned this from the start?
Kael took a sharp turn and entered the bar.
Tables were overturned. Every step brought glass crunching under his boots. Someone was slumped over a table, another across the counter. Only one was still breathing, a young woman behind the bar.
He hadn't expected this. The bar was monitored and maintained by Valthorne officials. For as long as the black market had existed, fighting here had never been allowed, an unwritten rule, yet now bodies were everywhere.
The reason wasn't hard to see though. Not many wanted to die for nobility, and with the war coming they were expected to. So why not risk your life on your own terms instead? It would strengthen them, and if they were lucky, set them up for something better on the other side. Kael understood that completely. He would have done the same thing. Less crude about it, maybe, but the same.
He walked over to the woman.
Her face was pale, blonde strands of hair clinging to her cheek as she pressed down on a deep wound in her thigh. She looked up at Kael and forced a faint smile.
"It's not as bad as it looks. I got lucky."
Kael didn't respond, studying her in silence.
Was she blood-related to the Valthorne family? And if so, would they be notified of her disappearance?
Unlikely, but not impossible.
Someone down here almost certainly had the means to contact the outside, yet nobody had. But why? The reason was simple. This was the black market. Neither buyers nor sellers were operating legally, so nobody was calling for help, not if it meant an official showing up and taking everything with them.
Valthorne knew the black market existed. They could tolerate it as long as they looked the other way, but the moment they officially acknowledged it, they would have to act.
Illegal dealings flourishing beneath the righteous city of Velthoria, under Valthorne rule? Absurd!
He flashed a soft, almost comforting smile before reaching for his knife once more.
Kael dried his knife on his coat, and walked over to the counter and filled a cup with warm water, then stirred in some instant coffee until it turned an even, dark colour.
Outside, the noise had almost died. Only pained groans now, and the quiet voices of Luminaires tending to each other.
He leaned against the counter and took his time with it. It had been far too long since he'd had one.
At last, the cup clinked against the wood as he set it down. The people out there were even more exhausted than him. By now, he should be able to take them down.