Kyro came back to himself like coming up through cold water — slow, disorienting, each breath a small battle. He realized, with a hitch of panic, that his mouth was gagged and his limbs bound; he was lying on his back, staring up at a ceiling lost in shadow. The room around him was lit by wavering torches whose light threw the stone in cruel, dancing shapes. Smoke and something fouler — old iron and rot — clung to the air and made his stomach roll.
He felt, more than saw, other presences: three aether signatures humming in the dark — Rena, Tharic, and a fourth he didn't recognize. Zaire's signature was absent; the knowledge hit him like a cold draft. The crystal that had once rested by his feet was gone.
"What is going on…" he thought, jaw tight against the gag.
"A Luminaire… what are they doing here?" Rena's voice cut through the hush as she peered toward a shadowed figure perched on a broken throne.
"Well, well, well," a strange, unfamiliar voice chuckled from the throne, laced with amusement.
"Luminaires," Tharic muttered under his breath, tasting the word like something strange and dangerous.
Rena glanced at him and then back to the throne. "They've ruled Sylmora for as long as I can remember. Devoted to the country — claiming to usher in a brighter future every day," she said, her words edged with contempt.
A smile in the darkness. "That is correct."
"Then why capture us? What have we done?" Tharic demanded. "If anything, we've been on your side."
A scraping sound — like someone shifting over rubble — came from Kyro's direction as he tried to move. The binds bit at his wrists and calves; grit ground into his palms. Tharic looked down and startled when Kyro's eyes flew open.
"Kyro — you're awake!" Tharic hurried to him and worked at the knots. Rena pivoted to watch as Kyro pushed himself up, face pale and dazed.
"You all right?" she asked.
"Yeah… I think so," Kyro rasped, throat sore. "Where's Zaire?"
Tharic's jaw tightened. "She left right after she dropped us here."
"Never mind that for now," Tharic said, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Explain everything later. Right now we're in a bad spot." He nodded toward the throne. The strange voice belonged to Lord Tavin, who sat with the practiced ease of someone who expected obedience.
Tavin's gaze slid to Kyro. "Boy with violet eyes — tell me your name. I've never seen eyes like yours in these parts."
"It's Kyro," he said, wary. "You must be Lord Tavin, Zaire mentioned you."
"That's me," Tavin said, rising slowly from his seat. "You are correct… Kyro."
He turned to Tharic. "To answer your question: many years ago the Aether Hunters and the Luminaires chose to work together. We envisioned the same future. For you three to fight back — relentlessly — that's a crime."
"But why ally with them? They steal aether and kill for it!" Kyro snapped.
"Answer me first," Tavin said to Rena, ignoring Kyro, voice smooth and cold. "Then I will answer you."
Rena reached out and pressed a hand against Kyro's chest, a quiet signal to stay silent. He felt the heat of her palm, a small anchor.
"All right," she said. "Go on."
Tavin smiled as if pleased. "Good. Explain the recent events with the First Order."
Tharic stepped forward, shoulders squaring. "It's best if I tell it — it started with Kyro and me."
"Go ahead," Tavin urged.
"It began in Pinehollow," Tharic said. "The first time I met Kyro, a mysterious man — Yusef — led him toward a cave to harvest his aether. I followed and rescued him before they could do worse."
He looked at Kyro. "Later, when we were traveling north, those same people tried again to kill us. We were lucky to even come out of it alive, all thanks to Rena."
Kyro cut in, voice quick and hollow, "Then, on our way further north from that incident, the First Order ambushed us once more in the forest, this time with more reinforcements. Yusef and his guards showed up to take our aether."
Rena finished the thread. "But they were cowardly to be frank. When things got serious, they ran."
She jabbed a finger at Tavin. "If the Aether Hunters are supposed to protect Sylmora, why were they hunting us in the first place? Why try to kill us for our aether? How is that protecting the future you speak of?"
Tavin let the question hang, the torchlight carving his face into planes of shadow. A bitter wind moved through the chamber as if answering for him. Finally he exhaled.
"Why didn't you let them kill you?" he asked softly.
Kyro's laugh was disbelief. "Why would we do that?"
Tavin didn't answer. He moved behind the throne and, with one practiced motion, shoved a limp, bound man into the light at their feet. The man was unconscious and bloodied; whatever had been taken from him — a patch of singed skin, a dull residue around his neck — made the three of them recoil.
Kyro's teeth clenched. "What is going on…" he whispered, barely able to breathe.
Rena's eyes narrowed until they were slits of ice, looking at the body and Tavin in front of her.
— — —
MEANWHILE, AT THE PALACE
Soft footsteps echoed up a long flight of steps and faded into the high-ceilinged hall where Soryn sat on his throne. A figure approached and bowed, and Soryn — amused — let out a low chuckle.
"Well, well, well. Who do we have here? Another opposer to Sylmora? They're popping up like flies these past few days," Soryn mocked lightly.
"Your lordship," the newcomer said. There was recognition in his voice.
"Not since the Great Battle at Kiyomori… Hunter," Soryn said, amusement and something like nostalgia mingling in his tone.
Hunter's smile was dry. "Ten years. Things have changed."
He looked around the throne room with a slow sweep. "Seems the plans have held. The country is better for it."
Soryn inclined his head. "Agreed. Sylmora moves one step closer to being everlasting, free, prosperous."
Hunter nodded. "I'll do my part to make that reality. You have my word."
"No need to thank us," Soryn said. "Think of you as guardians of balance — not just for Sylmora but for the world. You will go where necessary."
Hunter's gaze sharpened. "First, I want to find some old friends and see how they fare."
Soryn's smile tightened into something less comfortable. "We face war with Valieth soon…but that's another matter. I would not have you worry about that since you have just returned to us."
Hunter nodded, "As soon as I return, I will welcome a more serious conversation of this war you speak of."
Soryn smiled before continuing, "One more thing — I sent word: a group has rebelled against our mission. If you find them, bring them back to the capital."
"Rebellions?" Hunter echoed, intrigued.
Soryn's expression hardened. "A boy with purple eyes, another with green, and a rogue, brazen samurai woman. They have weakened the First Order and have depleted our ranks immensely. Whatever they're up to, we must stop them. With the war coming, we cannot afford another uprising."
Hunter's eyes flickered with interest, perhaps something like respect. "They remind me of myself… ten years ago. Or what I was…," he said.
Soryn's voice was low and urgent. "We cannot let savages derail us again. Mark my words."
"Consider it done," Hunter replied, the promise ringing with quiet steel.
Soryn smiled beneath his silver mask, the tension in his shoulders finally easing. "Thank you," he said softly.
"Now then," Hunter replied, turning on his heel and lifting a hand in casual farewell, "if there are no more pressing matters, I'll be on my way."
Soryn inclined his head. "Sounds good. I shall see you soon, I hope."
Hunter nodded and began to descend the long marble staircase, the rhythmic echo of his boots filling the throne hall. Then he paused mid-step, glancing back. "Ah—before I forget. How fares Project Wajin? Word of it has even reached Ironbark. The citizens there whisper as if it's some great myth."
Soryn chuckled beneath his mask. "It progresses well, all according to plan. Our secret weapon will be ready when Valieth strikes."
Hunter laughed, the sound echoing down the stairwell. "Wonderful. That's exactly what I like to hear."
As his figure grew smaller, he called back over his shoulder, his voice trailing into the chamber's vast emptiness. "Do give the others my regards. I look forward to seeing them soon…"
The last of his words faded into the cold air, leaving only the hum of torchlight and Soryn's quiet breathing behind his mask.
Back at Oakthorn Keep…
"What are you doing with that man…" Tharic's voice was low and grim, eyes fixed on the lifeless body at Tavin's feet.
Tavin's amber eyes glowed faintly through the carved slits of his mask as he turned to face them.
"The Aether Hunters exist to protect our dying nation," he said calmly.
"Sylmora is withering by the minute. Our aether reserves fade faster than the seasons. If we are to preserve our future, we must also sustain those who fight for it."
He extended his right hand. A faint hum filled the room — then, like smoke drawn into flame, aether began flowing from the corpse into his palm. The light pulsed, shifting between gold and violet before disappearing into him.
Rena, Tharic, and Kyro stood frozen in horror. The smell of burning air clung to their throats.
Kyro's fists trembled as he reached for his axe, gripping it until his knuckles turned white. "You…" he growled.
Tavin's gaze flicked toward him, steady and cold. "With war on the horizon, we can't afford weakness. What you three did to the First Order crippled our numbers—and, by extension, the future of this country."
"War?" Rena echoed, trying to steady her voice. "Why have we never heard of such a thing?"
Tavin looked her way. "Because telling the masses would only sow panic. Sylmora already stands on fragile ground. Silence preserves order while we face the burden ourselves."
He turned back to Kyro, his tone sharpening. "You may think you're doing what's right, but fools who act without understanding the scale of what's at stake will doom us all. We need strength—unbroken ranks for our country to thrive."
He paused, scanning the three of them. "I beg you—stop what you're doing. Go to the capital. I'll ensure your safety personally. You don't understand the fire you're playing with."
Kyro's eyes burned with defiance. "That may be true," he said through clenched teeth, "but…"
With a burst of motion, he slammed a foot into the ground and launched forward, his axe trailing behind him in a silver arc.
"AHHH!"
"Kyro!" Tharic shouted.
CLASSSH!
The sound of metal colliding with metal rang out. Tavin met Kyro's strike effortlessly, brass, spiked knuckles sparking against the blade's edge. They held there, locked in tension for a heartbeat—then—
KICK!
Tavin's boot drove into Kyro's stomach with brutal precision, sending him crashing backward across the stone floor, dust and rubble scattering beneath him.
"Ugh…" Kyro groaned, pushing himself up to one knee.
Tavin smirked. "No aether, huh?"
Kyro's eyes widened. "How did he know from one kick?"
Tavin's voice rose, firm but not without conviction. "Tell me, Kyro—what would you have us do? What wisdom do you claim that those who've lived a century do not possess? What would you do for a dying country, cut off from its aether, standing on the edge of ruin? If we—its protectors—fall now, then Sylmora dies with us."
Kyro said nothing. The words hit him harder than the kick had. His mind churned, but there was no answer he could give.
Tavin laughed softly, though there was no malice in it. "You see? We desire the same thing—to save Sylmora. Yet you fight me as though we are enemies. Let's end this farce."
Kyro clenched his right fist, the fire in his eyes returning. "No. There has to be another way—to save everyone, to protect our future without sacrificing our own. I'll find it, no matter how long it takes."
He raised his head, voice steady and resolute. "Be it tomorrow or a thousand years, I won't fail."
Tavin paused. For a flicker of a second, those words struck something deep in him to a familiar feeling that he couldn't point out.
"This boy…what is he saying…"
Then he composed himself and began to laugh again, louder this time. "You don't get it, do you? Naïve child. You speak like one lost in dreams. There are no thousand years if Sylmora perishes now!"
He struck his chest with his left hand, his aura flaring. "But come, Kyro! Let's see whose ideals hold weight! If you believe you can do better than those who've carried this burden for generations, prove it on the battlefield! That's always the best way to settle disagreements!"
He spread his arms, stance wide, the brass knuckles gleaming. "Land a single hit on me, and I'll let you three go. But if I win… your aether will strengthen our cause."
"Deal," Kyro said instantly.
Tharic glanced at Kyro in shock. "Are you insane? You don't even have aether! How do you plan to land a hit on him?"
Rena drew her katana, its blade glinting faintly blue under the torchlight. "Then I'll fight beside him."
Tavin grinned beneath his mask, pressing a boot against the corpse at his feet. "The more the merrier. It's been ages since I've met such spirited opponents!"
Tharic slammed the butt of his spear against the ground, a gust of cold air swirling through the ruined hall. "We won't let you have your way!"
Tavin lowered into a martial stance, fists raised. "Don't disappoint me!"
Rena moved first — a blur of motion. Her katana flashed, meeting Tavin's knuckles in a dance of sparks and clangs, punches and kicks.
CLASH! PUNCH! KICK!
"I thought all the samurai died at Kiyomori," Tavin said between blows, excitement rising in his voice.
"I am the last survivor," Rena answered coolly, parrying another strike.
"Interesting," Tavin grinned. "And yet, no one ever spoke of a survivor."
"But your skills are so refined. You can't tell me you haven't been fighting," said Tavin.
CLASSHHH
"I have spent years refining my skills, but not for the battlefield or war. It's to hunt down the one that took down my village, my family…and my people."
"I see," said Tavin, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Her fighting sense…her looks…this woman reminds me of a certain someone…" noted Tavin.
He turned his gaze toward Kyro, who still stood rooted in place, watching the fight unfold. "Hey, kid! I don't have all day! Let's see if that fire in your eyes means anything—come and land your hit!"
Kyro blinked, then broke into a sprint, axe in hand, shouting with renewed fury.
"AHHH!"
Tharic exhaled sharply. "Reckless as ever."
He raised his spear, muttering under his breath—
"Wind Technique: Gale Step."
Tharic rebounded off the floor with agile precision, his spear pointed straight at Tavin. Tavin tilted his body effortlessly, dodging the strike with ease. Instead of backing down, Tharic used the momentum to propel himself toward the opposite wall, his boots gripping the surface for just a moment before he launched off again.
He streaked across the room like a blur, spear flashing under the dim light as he unleashed a relentless flurry of strikes, each faster than the last—bouncing from wall to wall in rapid succession, empowered by Gale Step.
CLASSSHH!
Despite the barrage, Tavin stood firm. His arms and legs moved like clockwork—each punch, each kick perfectly timed to parry and deflect the incoming blows. Sparks flew as metal met skin, echoing through the hall in a rhythm of chaos.
"Ugh!" Tharic grunted, frustration flickering across his face.
Seeing Tavin's focus locked on Tharic, Rena seized her opening.
"Water Technique: Flowing Current!"
Her voice cut through the clash of steel, and in the next instant, Rena glided through the air like a stream breaking free of its banks. Water wrapped around her blade, flowing in perfect harmony with her swift, fluid movements. Every step and strike was synchronized with Tharic's assault—as though the two had trained for years together—creating a seamless dance of water and wind.
Meanwhile, Kyro charged from behind, closing the distance, his massive axe raised high above his head. The weapon gleamed menacingly under the fractured moonlight filtering through the keep's ceiling.
"AHHHH, I GOT YOU NOW!!" Kyro roared, just inches away from striking Tavin down.
Tavin's amber eyes flickered—first with surprise, then amusement. Time seemed to slow. The world blurred around him as he took in every motion: Tharic's deadly precision, Rena's grace, Kyro's raw strength. In that moment, Tavin wasn't overwhelmed—he was exhilarated.
He exhaled deeply.
"How I've yearned for a battle like this again…" he murmured.
Suddenly, the aether within him surged, swelling like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
"What's going on?" Tharic called out, mid-leap.
Rena's instincts flared. "This is bad! RUN, YOU TWO!"
"Huh?" both Tharic and Kyro shouted in confusion.
VWOOSHH—
"Too late," Tavin smirked.
He tapped the ground with his left foot—and instantly, a towering column of fire erupted beneath him, engulfing the center of the room in roaring flames. The blast hurled Tharic, Rena, and Kyro backward. Acting fast, Rena grabbed the two of them and leapt away from the inferno, knowing what was coming next.
BOOMMM!
The entire keep trembled. Walls cracked. The ceiling caved in as fire consumed everything, reducing Oakthorn Keep to a collapsing inferno. When the blaze finally subsided, the group lay scattered outside in the forest clearing, the ruins behind them still burning under the cold gaze of the moon.
Rena knelt on one knee, blood trickling down her arm, her breathing ragged. Her katana was plunged into the dirt for support. Behind her lay Tharic—unconscious and badly wounded.
"Kyro… where are—" she muttered weakly.
Her words cut off as her eyes widened.
Tavin stood before her amidst the embers, holding an unconscious, bloodied Kyro by the collar. Kyro's fingers slowly released their grip on his axe, letting it fall to the ground with a dull thud.
"Flame Technique," Tavin said coldly, tossing Kyro forward. "Rite of the Holy Flame – Ignitionem."
He smirked. "What a shame this battle is already over. I was just getting started."
Rena, trembling but resolute, replied through labored breaths, "I… will… protect them… from the likes of you…"
She steadied herself, grasping her katana. "Hand over Kyro… now…"
Tavin's grin widened. "Then show me more. Come and take him from me!"
He clapped his hands together, excitement gleaming in his eyes. Rena's aura erupted—her aether flaring tenfold, waves of water-like energy cascading around her as the air rippled from her power. Tavin slid on his brass knuckles, his stance lowering, ready to meet her head-on.
Rena's eyes sharpened, locking onto his amber gaze. She channeled all her water-aspected aether into her katana, the blade glowing with a deep blue sheen. Then, with a burst of speed, she surged forward—so fast the ground shattered beneath her feet.
Tavin raised his arm, ready to parry—
—but instead, Rena plunged her sword into the ground right before him.
"Water Technique: Rising Torrent!"
A vortex of water exploded upward beneath Tavin's feet, swirling into a massive column that lifted him high into the air—mirroring his own flame technique from before. As the torrent dissipated, Rena was already upon him.
Tavin's eyes widened. "What the hell—"
He spun midair just in time to see Rena descending from above.
"Shit, this is bad! I was too careless!"
SLASSSHH!
Rena's blade sliced clean across his chest, the impact sending blood and sparks scattering through the night. She followed through with a powerful kick, sending Tavin hurtling downward like a meteor.
BOOOM!
He crashed into the ground, the impact shaking the forest. Smoke and rubble burst outward in all directions. Through the haze, Rena landed a few feet away, her katana lowered at her side, eyes fixed on the crater.
CRRRRKK—
A crack spread across Tavin's mask near the eye. Slowly, he rose, clutching his bleeding arm. His body was torn and burned, his breathing uneven.
"I was wrong to underestimate you… samurai," he rasped, blood dripping from his mouth. "You're much stronger than I thought."
Rena leveled her sword at him. "It's over now. Hand over Kyro and leave us alone."
Tavin laughed between gasps. "I didn't say I lost, however."
He formed a sigil with his hands—thumbs crossed, fingers extended outward. The air trembled.
"Summon!"
VWOOSHH—
Flames engulfed him in a blazing sphere. Rena shielded her eyes from the heat as the fireball burst open—and from within, Tavin emerged, a single phoenix wing unfurling from his back.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "What… what is that…?"
With a single flap, he soared forward, snatching Kyro from the ground and ascending into the air. He looked down at her with a smirk.
"Consider yourself lucky, samurai. I'll be back to kill you later. Mark my words."
"Let go of him at once!" Rena demanded, raising her sword. "Or else…"
Tavin chuckled. "Come to the capital if you want this boy so badly."
"Ugh—why you!" Rena growled.
"Water Technique: Flowing Current!"
But before she could move, Tavin's phoenix wing released a burst of blazing aether, the shockwave blasting her backward into the dirt.
"Tch… what immense power…" she hissed, struggling to rise.
"You'd better come quickly," Tavin sneered, his voice echoing as he ascended into the night sky.
"Or we might drain his aether before you even get the chance."
With that, he vanished into the moonlight, Kyro limp in his grasp.
Rena remained on the ground, fists trembling, eyes burning with fury and despair. She turned to see Tharic still unconscious amid the scorched earth. The flames of Oakthorn Keep crackled in the distance.
She slammed her fist into the ground.
"Damn it… not again…"