Leiya stood amidst the tall grass of the mainland. The wind pulled at her hair. It carried the scent of dry earth and ancient rot. She looked at Thorne and Mira. The two siblings seemed entirely out of their element. The geography of the mainland was a mystery to them. It was a land of jagged history.
Leiya looked at the medicine in her hand. The silver liquid shimmered with a dull, sickly light. Then she looked at Kota standing a few feet away.
Kota wasn't himself. He stood still as a statue. He was talking to the air. His eyes were glazed. They reflected a world only he could see. He was having full conversations with things that weren't there. It looked as though he had finally lost his grip on reality. The Inversion was no longer a threat. It was a lingering presence. A shadow sitting behind his eyes.
Elowen miscalculated, Leiya thought. His Yen is too dense. These dosages aren't enough to hold back the Yen anymore.
"Why give this to you if its not working?" she thought.
She sighed. "please work" she thought It was the only solution they had left. She called out to him. She told him he needed to take it regardless of the results. Kota stopped his murmuring. He looked at her with hollow, toneless eyes before taking the vial. The glass clinked against his teeth. He swallowed the bitter brew without a word.
"It"s time to leave," she said firmly. "We can't stay in the open any longer. The air is starting to taste like Yen again."
The group began their trek toward the estates. They moved in a tight formation. Thorne and Mira kept their eyes on the horizon. They arrived at the estate ruins, the sight was enough to steal the breath from their lungs. These ruins didn't feel familiar
The place was decimated. There were no buildings left standing. Not a single tree remained. It was a wasteland of rubble and deep craters that scarred the earth. The sky above the ruins felt heavy. It was as if the ground were still reeling from the violence that had leveled the clan.
Something caught Kota's eye in the middle of the debris. He walked toward it. His boots crunched on pulverized stone. He reached down to pull a piece of fabric from the dust. It was a family heirloom. A sigil cloth. The Whiteflame crest was barely visible through the soot and bloodstains.
As the group gathered around the tattered remains, Thorne suddenly stiffened. He looked up toward a hill overlooking the ruins.
"Someone is watching us," Thorne whispered. His hand drifted toward the hilt of his blade.
A figure stood silhouetted against the sky. It was Jaeger. He had been following them for weeks. He was a silent shadow in the night. He looked down at them with a cold intensity. The air around him seemed to hum with a restless, ghostly heat.
"That cloth sigil belongs to me and my family!" Jaeger shouted from the hill. His voice carried across the ruins like a crackling fire. "Hand it over!"
Leiya stepped forward. She narrowed her eyes at the stranger. "Who are you?"
"I'm Jaeger Whiteflame," he replied.
Whiteflame? Leiya repeated.
When Kota heard the name, he froze. His mind raced. I've heard that name before. Father spoke of the Whiteflames. He said the head of that clan was my uncle.
Jaeger began to walk down the hill. He moved with a predatory grace. He didn't look like a friend. He was a survivor.
"My world was ruined as well," Jaeger said as he reached the bottom. "I know how it feels to be hunted. I want to join you. I think we could help each other navigate the world.
"No," Thorne snapped. "You can't join us."
Kota looked at Thorne. His gaze was cold. "That isn't your call to make."
He turned back to Jaeger. His expression remained flat and detached. "In order to join us, you'll have to fight me."
"Kota, no," Leiya snapped. She stepped between them. "You're not yourself. You're barely holding on. You can't spar like this."
Kota didn't look at her. He kept his eyes fixed on Jaeger. "I need to know if he's dead weight."
At the Null Haven, the atmosphere reached a breaking point. Kaola paced the Roundtable room. She looked at the empty seat at the head of the table.
"Where is Koma?" Kaola asked. "He's been gone since the fight. Someone has to know where he is."
Lokee didn't look up from her hands. "I don't know," she replied quietly. "We don't know."
"Right here," a voice snapped.
The doors swung open. Koma stood there. He looked exhausted. His face was twisted in an expression of pure frustration. He was a predator who had missed his kill. The silence of the mountain was an insult to his failure.
Kaola jumped at the sound of his voice. She looked at his battered state. "What happened to you? Where have you been?"
Koma ignored her. He turned his gaze toward Lokee. "Heal me," he commanded.
Hykee didn't say a word. He stood up and walked out of the room without glancing back. He had nothing left to say. The gap between the brothers had become a canyon.
Far away in a divine verse, the Atrophies gathered. Some of them sat upon their high thrones. Others were missing. The seats of the Primordials remained as pillars of the top tier. One central seat sat empty and cold.
"That boy is a threat," a voice remarked. It was a low rumble of thunder that shook the pillars of the verse. "He needs to be eliminated."
"The balance is failing," another added. He watched the world with cold, decaying eyes. "He failed to stop the interference. His pride is starting to cloud his utility."
The thunderous voice turned toward the empty stone seats. "Where is Isari? If the balance is failing, we need a full council."
"Why do you only want Isari?" a female voice asked. "We cant have a full council if you're only calling for Isari. Are the others weak compared to them?"
"Isari is probably somewhere meditating inside their Prismatic Veil," a different god replied. "They are the only ones with the potential to reach the Primordials. The others are merely maintenance."
"Potential is a generous word for children playing in the light," the female god remarked.
"Settle down," a fifth and final god commanded. His voice carried the weight of ages.
"Where is the Divine Warden?" the female god asked after a pause.
"Dead," the second replied. "His light was snuffed out before this era began."
"And where is his brother?" she questioned.
"He is in the Onyx District," the third answered. "He masquerades as a merchant when he should be figuring out how to revive his dead brother."
Vesperos stood in the damp shadows of the district. He towered at six feet ten inches. His eyes were hollowed out under a cloth. He remained silent as he brokered the fates of men.
"The balance is shifting," the thunderous voice whispered. "And the boy is at the center of it. He is a cup overflowing with Yen. If he fully inverts, we will have no choice but to descend."