For Mordecai Nemestrius, time had stopped being a straight line. Instead, it felt like sinking into something deeper. The wild, rough years of being a teenager had faded, leaving behind a quiet, strong determination. He wasn't a kid yelling into nothing anymore; he was learning what that nothing was really like. His training wasn't just angry practice; it was a kind of meditation.
He made the Bone Serpent so good that he could make just one finger bone appear and lift a teacup without a sound. He worked on the Eclipse of the Abyss not to take over more space, but to control every bit of it, turning that nothingness into a sharp tool. He learned how his power worked, bit by bit, as he faced challenges all the way.
Meanwhile, the world continued to change in small, yet unsettling ways. There were news stories that only he understood: a town in Sweden where every mirror showed a bleeding sky for thirty-seven seconds sharp. A survey in Chile found a rock that played a tune from a dead planet. These were Ra'Zul's echoes, his power pushing against the weak spots on Earth, testing how strong it was. Each one felt like a cold rock falling into Mordecai's sense of what was right. The Tyrant wasn't just a memory; he was a patient hunter from somewhere far away, and his shadow was getting longer.
Through everything, Mordecai kept one big secret, something even Kaiphus could only sense, not see. It was the device. The Key of Last Resort from his mother. It wasn't just a dead piece of bone anymore. After the observatory, after deciding what to do on the road, it had started to hum sometimes. A very small light would flash inside its gem, a slow, steady beat like a sleeping heart. It was a signal. A clue. It was responding to something, or someone. To Cassandra.
The clues he had gathered from the stop, from Alaric's maps, from what the refugees whispered, had come together into a possible map. It wasn't a map with a clear end, but a mix of chances and dangers. It pointed to places where the Thread of Sanctuary was strongest, but also where Ra'Zul's power was most focused. To follow it was to walk right into danger. Parts of this map were marked by spots that could quickly kill him. He knew this clearly.
One evening, he stood on a roof looking over the city as it began to shine in the dusk, like a huge, fake group of stars made of scattered coins. The device in his pocket beat against his chest, a constant, gentle reminder. He looked at the endless lights, each one a life, a story, a normal thing he had fought so hard to protect, but still felt so far from.
He made a promise then, not loudly, but with a quiet breath that mixed with the city's air. I will find her, he whispered to the sky. The words weren't just hope; they were a promise written into his bones. And I will not become his echo. He wouldn't use Ra'Zul's ways. He wouldn't let his past decide what was right or wrong in his future. The Eclipse's power wouldn't be for destruction but for doing what was right. The Serpent would hold back, not kill.
Below, in the growing dark, light flashed from a shop window and caught his eye. At the same time, Kaiphus, which had been still, stirred. It moved from his shoulders and did something it rarely did; it wrapped around his chest, over his heart, pressing firmly, almost worriedly. Then it pulled, not toward the horizon where his map led, but down, toward the street.
A bit of music, carried by the wind, reached the roof. It was a strange rhythm, a mix of a strong drumbeat and a light, singing tune. He followed Kaiphus's pull and looked down into a park nearby.
There, under the yellow lights of streetlamps, a group of young people was practicing. He saw a tall boy with messy hair: Gary Grey, shouting orders with more excitement than skill, moving with wild energy. A girl with a loud, happy laugh: Joy Celeste... moved with him, creating ripples in the air as she moved. Another, Stella Nova, seemed to pull light from the lamps, turning it into shields. And a fourth, Razeus Bloodlius, worked with shadows, looking serious.
They were awkward and messy, their teamwork rough around the edges. In a real fight, they would probably lose.But they were full of life.
A thought came to Mordecai's mind, so quiet that it felt wrong, like a break in his serious watch. It was a thought of sharing the load. Of another team steadying a broken ward. Of sharing a laugh when tired. Of someone else seeing what was coming and standing with him, not because they had to, but because they wanted to.
Maybe, the thought whispered, it is time to let someone else touch the places where my heart stopped.
He stood at the edge, the wind pulling at his clothes. Below was noise, mess, and friends. Ahead was quiet, danger, and a lonely road toward a promise made long ago.
Kaiphus gave one last, gentle tug, not ordering him, but inviting him. It wasn't pulling him from his mission but offering a new way to do it.
Mordecai Nemestrius, the Eclipse Sorcerer, the last son of Aethelas, the brother of a lost sister, took a deep breath. Then, he took a step. Not toward the far, dark edge, but toward the messy, bright, and hopeful noise in the park below. The hunt for Cassandra wasn't over. It was just starting. And for the first time, he wouldn't be hunting alone.