Kaiser stood in the heart of one of the villages most devastated by the floods.
The scene around him was one of organized chaos—water magis directing the flow of murky floodwater away from collapsed homes, brown magis kneeling in the mud to inspect damaged crops and soil. Some of the brown magis are also doctors and they are moving swiftly between makeshift tents where the sick and injured lay.
Non-magis soldiers and knights distributed food and blankets, helping elderly villagers down from rooftops where they had taken refuge.
The relief effort had been underway since dawn.
Now, with the sun dipping low, Kaiser received word that Rhea would be arriving soon with additional supplies and medical expertise. She had been working on preventing the sickness that had already claimed lives in other flood-affected areas.
He stood near the village square, reviewing a map of the region, when three carts rolled in.
Drobar, Levain, and Rhea descended from the lead carriage.
Rhea approached Kaiser without preamble, already speaking as she walked.
"I have found that the unsanitary water may have been ingested by the people—or come into contact with their skin. That is what is making them sick." She pulled a small vial from her satchel, holding it up. "The best course of action is for them to wash thoroughly with soap and consume salt remedies and this medication to prevent from contracting this disease caused by the bacterium."
Kaiser studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Impressive, Rhea. It was right to have you promoted to doctor at the hospital."
After their shared ordeal during the expedition—and the promotions that followed—they had all decided to drop formalities when meeting each other. There was no need for titles among friends.
Rhea, however, did not seem comfortable with the compliment. She shifted her weight, glancing away.
"It was not me," she corrected. "Ayumu is the one who found out what is the cause and shared it with me."
Kaiser's brows drew together. "Ayumu?"
"Yes?"
The soft voice came from directly behind him.
Kaiser jolted—not visibly, not enough to embarrass himself, but enough that his shoulders tensed and his head snapped around.
Ayumu stood there, white robes pristine despite the mud and chaos around her, her golden eyes bright and guileless.
Drobar sighed heavily. "She needs to stop doing that. If Kaiser was my father, he would have a heart attack by now."
Kaiser's surprise hardened into concern—and something else. "Ayumu, what are you doing here? The emperor is searching everywhere for you."
Ayumu's expression crumpled into something small and sulking.
"I can be of help, Lord Kaiser—"
"Just Kaiser," he corrected automatically.
"Yes… Kaiser…" She stepped closer, her hands clasped in front of her. "I just do not want to stay locked up in my room. I can be of help. We can find the cause of the flood together." Her voice grew more enthusiastic as she spoke, her eyes shining with the prospect of purpose.
Kaiser held his ground, his voice firm. "Ayumu, you know the emperor's decree is final. As the minister of security for the empire, I have no choice but to bring you back to him."
Rhea clicked her tongue. "Do not be like that, Kaiser. She only wants to help. Let her stay for the day. She can assist here, and you can drag her back tomorrow morning." She gestured at the darkening sky. "It is already late. Traveling back now would be dangerous."
Ayumu turned her gaze toward Rhea—eyes wide, hopeful, practically glowing with gratitude.
Ayumu clasped her hands together, her golden eyes wide and pleading. "I promise I will go back without any trouble after I help here—lor—I mean, Kaiser. Please let me stay."
Kaiser felt his resolve waver.
He was slightly irritated—not at Ayumu, never truly at Ayumu—but at the situation. No matter what he did, this would not end well with the emperor. Visil would be furious. There would be shouting. There might even be threats.
And yet.
Deep down, a quieter part of him—the part he had only recently acknowledged—whispered that he would also like to spend time with her. Now that he had finally accepted his feelings, every moment with Ayumu felt precious. Every glance. Every word.
He exhaled slowly.
"Alright," he said. "But as soon as we finish here, I am sending you straight back to the palace. Your brother will be waiting, I am sure."
Ayumu brightened like the sun breaking through clouds.
She grabbed his hand with both of hers and shook it vigorously—up, down, up, down—her enthusiasm so pure and unguarded that Kaiser felt his carefully constructed composure crack just a little.
"Oh, yes! Thank you, Kaiser! I will not let you down! I will be of help and then—" She spun around, her robes swirling. "—ah! Sir Levain!"
Levain startled. "Yes?!"
Ayumu pointed toward him. "You need to go to the great lake to find the source of the flood, yes? Do you have your magical pot with you?"
Levain blinked, patting his satchel. "Umm—yes, it is here."
"That is great!" Ayumu's eyes sparkled. "And Sir Drobar—you should come with us!"
Drobar's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"
Before anyone could respond, Ayumu raised her hand to the sky.
A burst of light—golden, warm, alive. And from that light, a shape emerged. Wings of flame and feather. A body of crimson and gold. A piercing cry that echoed across the village.
Vesta.
The phoenix took form in all its glory, her feathers shimmering like beams of light. It landed beside Ayumu with a graceful flutter, its massive wings folding against her body.
Ayumu climbed onto Vesta's back in one fluid motion, settling herself between the great bird's shoulders. Then Vesta's talons shot out—grabbing Drobar and Levain each by their torso—and it launched into the sky.
Drobar's scream echoed across the village: "WAIT! WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"
Levain's voice joined his: "THIS IS NOT WHAT I AGREED TO!"
The phoenix soared high, carrying the two men like oversized packages, their limbs flailing helplessly in the wind.
Kaiser and Rhea stood frozen, watching the spectacle going further into the darkening sky.
Rhea stared at the empty sky where the phoenix figure was getting smaller in the distance, then slowly smacked her forehead with her palm.
"Ayumu…" She dragged the name out with exasperation. "I just said it would be dangerous to travel at this time."
Kaiser's jaw tightened. His blood was beginning to boil.
"This is your fault, Rhea." he said, his voice low and sharp.
Rhea whirled around, pointing at herself. "Me?!"
"You encouraged her to stay," Kaiser said, his tone clipped. "You told me to let her help. And now she has, in a way kidnapped Drobar and Levain and is off to cause whatever trouble she has brewing in that head of hers."
Rhea opened her mouth. "I—well—I did not expect her to summon her phoenix and just leave!"
Kaiser pinched the bridge of his nose. "We have to find them now. Just imagine the amount of trouble they will get themselves into." He paused, then corrected himself. "No. Ayumu will be the one to get them into trouble."
Rhea's mind raced through all the worst possible outcomes. Levain and Drobar, dangling from a phoenix's talons, being flown somewhere over unfamiliar terrain in the dark. Ayumu, with her boundless enthusiasm and complete lack of caution, was undoubtedly leading them into who-knew-where to do who-knew-what.
She paled.
"We have to save Drobar and Levain from Ayumu." she said.
Even from afar, their screams could still be heard—faint, fading, but unmistakable.
Kaiser raised his hand.
A pulse of dark energy rippled through the air. Black smoke began to coalesce from the shadows at his feet—coiling, twisting, growing. Scales formed. Wings unfurled. Two red eyes, identical to Kaiser's own, gleamed in the gathering darkness.
Azhdar materialized in all his terrible glory—a massive wyvern of shadow and scale, his breath a low rumble that vibrated through the ground. He lowered his head, waiting.
Kaiser swung onto the wyvern's back in one fluid motion. He extended a hand to Rhea.
"Get on," he commanded. "We are going after them."
Rhea did not hesitate. She grabbed his hand, hauled herself up behind him, and gripped the scales tightly.
Azhdar launched into the sky.
The wind tore at their faces. The village shrank below them. Ahead, the phoenix's glow was still visible—a small, golden beacon moving swiftly across the darkening sky.