The sunrise spilled across the horizon in deep strokes of red and orange, like liquid fire. It was stunning—almost too stunning. Those vibrant colors seemed to stretch across the sky, farther than I could comprehend. But that wasn't where my attention lay.
Down below, nestled beneath the cliff, a village lay quiet. I sat still, not watching the village itself but the shadows that trailed behind it.
They stretched behind homes, curled beneath the autumn trees, clinging to the feet of those moving through the streets, their steps dancing perfectly in sync with the shifting darkness, as if those shadows were part of them.
Up here, the quiet was absolute. Even the wind, carrying the scent of damp earth, barely stirred the stillness.
Before long, I heard something—or rather someone—approaching. It was a barely-there sound, gentle and unobtrusive. Just there.
I didn't turn. I didn't acknowledge it. I kept my fingers curled loosely over my knee, my other leg stretched out toward the edge of the cliff. If not for the faint tug at the edges of my senses, I might not have even noticed her arrival.
She came closer—her steps nearly soundless against the uneven stones. There was no announcement, no hesitation. She moved with the confidence of one who knew she belonged, even without asking permission.
A flicker of movement from the corner of my eye.
Now she was close, watching the sunrise―or maybe she was watching me. It didn't really matter.
Her presence folded into the scene, neither disruptive nor necessary—just a quiet addition to the moment.
She had short, white hair that flowed to the sides, then back, covering her ears while leaving her smooth, pale forehead exposed.
Leaning forward, she balanced lightly on the balls of her feet, fingers trailing along the rough stone beside her.
She tilted her head, sharp golden eyes flicking toward me. "You've been sitting there forever."
I didn't answer.
A breeze caught the edge of my coat sleeve. Still, I said nothing.
Kyr huffed, though there was no frustration in it. maybe acceptance. She shifted closer before crouching down, her black high-waisted pants folding beneath her. "You always do that."
This time, I glanced at her—just a brief glance, enough for her to know I'd heard her.
She didn't react like most would. No impatience. No demand for words. Just a slight curling of her lips—not a smile, but something edged with amusement and understanding.
"At least tell me what you're looking at."
"The shadows..." I muttered, my voice barely above a breath. "Of everything," I added after a moment's pause.
Kyr followed my gaze, but I knew she wasn't seeing the same thing. Her eyes traced the shifting darkness beneath the houses, the way the shadows seemed to follow the waking streets. For a moment, she appeared to be watching closely, searching for understanding.
"They follow," she murmured, her voice quieter now, almost contemplative. "But they're just... there."
I didn't move. My fingers flexed slightly over my knee, an instinctive motion I didn't bother to control.
She didn't understand.
But she was trying.
Maybe that was why I'd never pushed her away during my travels.
My fingers flexed again. It was time to go. I stood, and the Wraith looked up at me and grinned, following shortly after.
"Hey, Resu?" She called out
I paused, turning just enough to catch her in my periphery. "Yes?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, her gaze remained fixed beyond the village, toward the horizon bathed in the sun's warm orange light. "What's that... over there?"
I turned fully, facing the cliff's edge again.
My eyes swept over the rooftops and into the sky. Against the brilliance, a small black speck glided toward us.
"A... Faunae, maybe?" Kyr mused.
A beat of silence passed.
"An Arav," I mumbled.
"What?"
"It's an Arav... my Arav," I assumed by the dark color of the bird
The breeze played at the edges of our clothing. Kyr hadn't shifted, her gaze locked on the approaching shape.
The bird-like Faunae was small, yet its wings generated enough force to flutter the short, wide sleeves of Kyr's white cropped blazer as it descended to the cliff's edge, landing just in front of us.
I extended my hand toward the charcoal-colored bird. A small capsule shot from the Faunae's ruffled feathers, smacking against my palm just before I closed my grip around it. I turned the capsule over, feeling its metal casing freshly warmed against my skin.
Kyr leaned in beside me, watching intently. Pressing my thumb against the seam, a faint click sounded, and the capsule split apart, revealing a tightly folded letter inside. I unfurled it, tracing the jagged strokes of ink with my eyes.
I read it twice. Then a third time. A mission―an actual assignment beyond the patrols Wraiths were imposed to carry out. And not just from any superior, but "from Mournis himself," I finished aloud.
Kyr's head tilted slightly, her sharp golden eyes scanning me as if she'd misheard. Then, just a flicker, her brows drew together.
"Mournis himself," she echoed.
A beat. Then her expression settled, though not entirely. "Didn't know you were importantenough for that," she said with a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
"It's rare," I admitted, though my voice felt thin.
"That's one way to put it."
And probably due to her negative reading capabilities, her gaze lingered on me, expectant.
"So what did it say?"
***
The dirt road was uneven beneath my steps.
It had only been a few hours since I left the town of Marisel. Kyr had stayed behind—not because I doubted the little Wraith's acting abilities (not that I had any more experience myself) but because this mission had been personally assigned to me by Mournis.
That raised the question: Why me out of the eighteen other Wraiths out there? I didn't know yet, but it was likely due to how committed and serious I was about keeping this land safe.
Or at least that's how others might see it. My commitment to the protection of Treazur wasn't for the people that live here, no, I couldn't give a damn about the residence of this continent.
The real reason is simply because our deity—my creator—trusted me with a task. And I will do everything in my power to make sure it's carried out.
Ahead, the tunnel loomed—a jagged wound carved into the hillside, its entrance yawning into darkness. Shadows filled its length until they met the distant glow of light spilling from the far end.
I took a few steps forward, allowing the overwhelming darkness to envelop me.
Then, my body felt like it wasn't a body anymore. I wasn't entirely sure what happened while using this ability, but it felt as if I was being ripped, torn, and pulled toward my destination. It wasn't painful, but it was definitely a strange and uncomfortable sensation.
The shadows carried me forward, and for a fleeting moment—according to Kyr's past explanations—I was nothing.
Then, I was whole again.
The exit revealed the breathtaking scale of the mainland suspended in the sky ahead and the sharp break where this island dropped into the blue abyss.
A man sat at the edge where the dirt road met the open sky—one leg dangling off the sharp drop. He hadn't made a sound, and I hadn't either—yet something told me he already knew I was there.
I stepped forward—once, then again, and then again. The Wraith turned, not fully, but just enough to take me in. His orange-autumn eyes flickered over the three blackfeathers swaying from my blackened conical hat, then settled on the other three resting against my coat's shoulders.
After a moment of acknowledging the rest of my appearance, the man turned back around.
I stepped toward the edge, veering just left of him, and halted a few paces from the drop.
"Resu... right?" he asked, his gaze still lingering ahead.
"Yeah," I responded after a short moment.
The Wraith glanced down to his left, then gave the ground three soft pats. I hesitated, but if I wanted to do this, I had to show complete trust. Even if I didn't have—
"Come on, kid. I'll keep you safe," he said—now looking up at me. But due to my small body, he didn't need to tilt his head much to match my gaze.
"You know we're the same age, right?"
"Yes, but I look significantly older."
"That's not how tha—"
"Don't tell me Mr.Enigma is getting all flustered."
I held his gaze for a beat before sighing. Steadying my hat, I stepped toward the edge and carefully lowered myself.
"So, what brings you out here?" he questioned.
"The winds are carrying me somewhere. The same place they're carrying you... Areer, I want to join—"
"Drop the act, kid."
Huh? Was I that obvious?
Whatever. It didn't matter now. A flicker of disappointment crawled through me before instinct took over―I reached for the blade sheathed along my upper right arm, the one Kyr had made for me.
"I know why you're here," he finished.
My hand froze just inches from the dagger.
Why is he―
"And I also know Mournis... look…"
Why reveal he knew? Does he not intend on killing me?
Silence settled between us for a moment as Areer mused—nothing but the breeze tussling with our clothing.
"I've changed..." He said. Meeting my eyes as he continued. "Resu, I've changed. We've spent our lives protecting the people of this continent and received nothing for it. I'm not going to spend the rest of my existence being Mournis's... bitch. I refuse to die as nothing more than an extension of Mournis's will. There are truths I wish to find and freedom I want to live out―"
"You'll be hunted down with a kill-on-site command in bothAeri'inai and Treazur. That's notfreedom, Areer."
"Neither is living under Mournis's command."
"He created us. We owe him—"
"I've repaid what I owe him."
After a moment of letting our words linger in the air, Areer lifted his leg from the edge, then rose to his feet—his back facing me. Turning his head, he looked down at me and said, "You're not going to listen to me, fine. I'm not arguing with a child."
Without another word, he began walking away along the edge.
I rose to my feet as well, gazing at his back. "You know Mournis won't allow me to just let youleave, right?"
Areer stopped walking, pausing for a moment before glancing back at me. "Yeah... I know, kid." His voice was soft, and I could hear disappointment in it.
He lifted his hand. In an instant, an earthen spike shot up before me, tearing through my conical hat and forcing me backward. Another erupted from behind—this one struck true, spearing through my left arm as pain jolted through me. A third followed, rising to my right. It didn't pierce my skin; instead, it locked into place, a snare tightening around me.
The Wraith faced toward the island's edge where the ground vanished into the open sky. His burgundy hair tangled with the wind as the Wraith―now a Wanderer—tore three of his six feathers from his cloak. He held them for a moment, gaze lingering on the frayed edges. Then, with a quiet release, he let them drift, spiraling off the edge and into the winds.
In a slow motion that felt surreal, he looked at me.
"You'll understand someday, Resu... Don't hesitate to find me."
He leaned forward.
And just like that—he was gone.
Gritting my teeth, I broke free.