Issen felt it before he saw anything, the sudden drop in energy from somewhere far behind him.
"So many deaths in such a short time," he said quietly. "Something is wrong here. I hope Maereth is alright."
There was a distortion in the air, something subtle yet suffocating. Around him, the Dream addicts suffered beneath it. He saw how far they had fallen in their desire to forget reality. He did not feel disgust, only pity. He had once been like them.
But experience had taught him distance.
He pulled up his hood and walked forward without making eye contact.
His plan was simple: to leave the desert, to begin again, to live a second life. But was that truly enough? After everything he had lived through, everything he had lost, was this all that remained?
Perhaps it was.
He was not like the others. His joy lay in wandering through quiet evenings, observing the world, its romances, its wanderers, its fallen souls, its passing shadows. There was nothing he needed, nothing he wanted. He had nothing left to prove.
He had lied to himself once, back when he joined the Granite Compact, the lie that one could not live without others.
No, he thought. I have no need of people.
From this moment onward, he would disappear.
As it was in the beginning, so it would be in the end. Never again would he allow another person into his heart.
"Excuse me… excuse me…"
A Dream addict called out to him.
"What is it?" Issen asked.
The man looked down.
"What? You need some coins?"
Issen reached into his garments and revealed the remnants of a lifetime of plunder, two handfuls of gold and diamonds.
"Take it," he said. "It's yours."
"Hey… that's a lot. Are you sure?"
"I don't need it anymore."
"What are you talking about? Of course you do."
Issen smiled and walked on.
"Please stay safe out there," the man called after him. "It's dangerous."
"Yes, I know."
"It's a cruel world, isn't it?"
"It's not a cruel world."
"Then what is it?"
"It simply is."
Issen disappeared into the distance.
As he walked, he felt it, that presence. He was being watched. Perhaps by one, perhaps by many, hidden within the endless twilight.
He descended from the high road of the desert toward a series of barricades and structures. Beyond them lay the low road.
And there, someone was waiting.
"Hello," Issen said.
No answer.
"A raider?" Issen smiled. "I don't have anything to give you."
"I'm not here for gold," the raider replied.
"Alright then."
Something felt different today. He could not explain it, but he welcomed it.
"I think I know what's about to happen," Issen said. "Shall we begin?"
"Yes… if you wish."
They approached, but kept their distance, circling one another.
"How has your journey been?" the raider asked.
"Good. I'm sure we both travelled far before meeting here."
"Where did you come from?"
"The Eastern Forests of the Central Realm."
"The Central Realm?"
The raider paused, then laughed.
"You really have travelled far. And what were you? A wanderer?"
"I was a member of the Granite Compact. A bandit."
"Yes… I felt it. We are alike. We have both cut down hundreds without ever truly knowing why."
"You don't know me."
"Of course I do, brother. In this place, at this moment, I know you better than anyone, better than your parents, better than the love you hide in your memories like a curse."
Issen smiled.
"You little bastard," he laughed.
They continued to circle, each aware that the other likely possessed a long-range ability. This would be decided in an instant.
And yet, in these moments, they saw one another clearly. In combat, when you truly look into another's eyes, you see the person behind them.
"Why?" the raider asked.
"What is it?"
"You look at me like I'm your friend. Why?"
Issen thought for a moment.
"I don't know if I can explain it."
"Don't you understand what we're doing here?"
"Maybe we are friends… in a strange way. There is something that connects us. Otherwise, we wouldn't be standing here, speaking like this. People like us, we understand it."
The raider flexed his hand.
"I don't understand you at all."
"There is a low road ahead of us," Issen said. "All our lives have led us there. Whether we are men of gold, of war, or of divinity, we will all walk it one day."
"And what of it? That changes nothing about what happens now."
"Perhaps we are the only ones meant to see the truth."
"And what truth is that?"
"That we are all heading toward the same end. So what do we do before we reach it? Love? Lose? Chase comfort, knowing it will be taken from us? In the end, it always comes down to the same thing, we try to enjoy life while we can."
The raider smiled faintly.
"But those answers aren't meant for us, are they?"
"No… they aren't."
An eye appeared before Issen's vision—shining, vast. All moments of life, joy and suffering, love and hatred, the physical and the spiritual, merged into a single explosion of colour, centred around that eye.
"Then this is the answer, isn't it?" the raider said. "This moment, here and now."
"We are trapped in a cycle of day and night," Issen said. "The reason we stand here, sharpening blade and arrow, is to surpass it. That is the blessing of a warrior. In these moments, we live beyond life and death."
The raider narrowed his eyes.
"I've never had a conversation like this before… not like this. It's strange. We're enemies, and yet…"
"We understand each other," Issen said.
"Yes… we do."
Issen looked up. The eye had vanished.
"Shall we begin?" he said.
They circled once more, guided by instinct, by wind, by the rhythm of the desert.
"Axiom Arrow!"
"Axiom Dart!"
—
Issen woke.
He was being carried. His body would not respond.
"So… he wasn't trying to kill me," he muttered.
"Hey, be quiet," a voice snapped.
Issen looked around. He was inside a caravan. Others lay beside him, motionless, their faces filled with fear.
"That man back there," Issen asked, "what was his name?"
"We don't share names," the raider replied. "For our own protection."
"I see."
Through tired eyes, Issen looked ahead.
A city of purple crystal loomed in the distance.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"You're being sold."
"For what?"
"For the arena."