Following the click of the latch, there was silence as Wyn and Lady Cennet took each other in. Wyn's eyes stuck to the loose sleeve that hung where her arm had been only a day before.

"Don't you know it's impolite to stare?"

Wyn grimaced, clenching his fist in frustration. "Apologies… I'm sorry guildmistress. This is my fault."

"And how might that be?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I was too weak. I couldn't do a thing against her. If I'd been stronger you wouldn't have lost your arm. We could have won."

"Come here Wyn," she beckoned him over, her voice soft.

He stepped closer, crouching next to the bed as she reached out with her one good arm—then yanked on his ear.

"What kind of stupid twisted logic is that?" He yelped, but she didn't let go. "If it's your fault because you were too weak, then it's also my fault because I was too weak! So why are you apologizing to me? Let me carry my own weight you foolish boy. I don't need a brat barely out of diapers to carry it for me."

Finally she let him go, satisfied as he rubbed at his stinging ear, speechless. And he found he wasn't looking at her arm any longer, but rather the crackling intensity left in her eyes.

"Besides, we're not done are we?" She crossed her arms, glaring at him. "You can save your moping for when this is over, or when you're dead. So tell me, have you heard how the other raid went?"

He took a step back, leaning against the wall. "They succeeded in collapsing the entrance, though at cost."

Shani nodded seriously. "More successful than us then, that's something."

"Unfortunately, they were unable to finish off the acolyte of sloth, and apparently there was an even more dangerous enemy they faced there."

"An enemy more dangerous than sloth?"

"I don't know… but it seems like that may be the case. And guildmistress, with sloth still alive, I'm not sure if collapsing a single entrance will be enough."

Shani fell silent, the flicker of the lantern throwing sharp shadows across her face. Wyn stayed standing for a moment, unsure if there was anything left to say.

"You should rest, guildmistress," he said at last.

"Rest?" She gave a short, humorless laugh. "Then sit, Wyn. Would you humor an old woman for a story?"

"A story?" Wyn pulled a chair from the corner and sat, the aging wood groaning under his weight.

Eldress Cennet turned her hand over, flexing her fingers slowly, as if to remind herself it was still really there.

"I never did have any children."

Wyn frowned. "Guildmistress?"

Her voice was slow and thoughtful. "I've had many lovers. I was even married once. But lately, I've come to accept that the Cennet line will end with me. Did you know that—no, of course you wouldn't. Since the city was founded, a Cennet has always served as one of the sepals. We're an old family Wyn, very old. And I suppose we'd begun to wither, even before the war. By the time Nasrin and I were born, there wasn't much family left."

Her voice was low, and her face seemed to age in the flickering lights.

"Though, in our youth, I suppose neither of us really cared." She chuckled, her gaze falling in some distant place. "Our grandmother was a sepal at the time, and it was decided that one of us would succeed her, and so she took up both of us to train. I remember the first day so vividly—I was only ten at the time, excited to train with my kindly grandmother, who would always bring me candies when I saw her. Imagine my surprise then, when she walked into the room, stern as could be, and introduced herself as 'Lady Danu'. It turned out grandmother was practically a different person when acting as sepal. It was strange, but at some point I think I separated the two in my mind."

Wyn smiled as the talk brought back memories of his own. He'd never known his grandparents on his father's side, but he remembered his grandmother and grandfather stopping by in the early years of his life. His grandfather liked to slip him copper coins when his mother wasn't looking, and each time he'd say the same thing: 'Make sure to spend it on a cute girl.'

"So," he leaned forward. "How did your sister end up chosen? Was she stronger?"

Shani smiled. "My older sister was more levelheaded, but I had more talent. I often held it over her head—that she would lose spars to a girl two-years younger. I might have been something of a brat in my youth. I think we both thought I would be selected over her."

Her gaze drifted towards the dancing flame in the lantern, which slowly burned away the wick.

"Not long before the choice was made, Lady Danu took us both up to the highest branches of the Spirit Tree. I still remember thinking that the world seemed so vast, and us so small. It was there that she asked us: 'Would you give up your life for the sake of the city and the tree?'"

Wyn nodded. It made sense. If a sepal was something like a spirit knight, then that was the duty they'd chosen. "So what'd you say?"

"I said yes, of course. So did my sister." Shani chuckled. "Then she told us to jump."

"Jump?" Wyn's eyes widened slightly.

"Right then and there. Said it would show our devotion to the city—proof that we were willing to die."

"Did you do it?"

Shani laughed. "Of course not! I told her right to her face that she was crazy. But my sister? She took one look over the ledge and stepped right off. Grandmother caught her, which seemed obvious in hindsight, though in the moment it had seemed so real. I don't know for sure that it was because of that, but shortly after, Nasrin was chosen to continue her training, and I was not. I think in the end, they saw that she was more devoted than I was. My sister always thought of her duty before anything else.

"Two years later, war broke out with Nladia, and she officially became a sepal. I'm not sure what the cause was—whether it was that, or something else entirely, but after that day my sister was never quite the same. Her eyes had a certain peace to them, like she had seen her death, and accepted it. She became stronger too, almost overnight. Stronger than me, and stronger than the rest of the sepals. They said she could even hold her own against an aegis."

"Was it her bond with Haoma?"

"No idea," Shani shrugged. "I asked her about it once—what had happened when she'd become a sepal. But all she said was that she'd accepted a heavy burden, and a great duty. Whatever secret she held, she held it even from me."

Wyn felt the ever-present flames flickering inside him—a special blessing, one that he carried alone. His fingers clenched at his chest.

Shani continued. "The two of us got into an argument. I was angry, I didn't understand why she couldn't tell me. Or rather, I could, but I hated it. I wanted to laugh with my sister again. I wanted to make fun of her and have her get flustered, or angry. I didn't want her to look at me with that same tired smile.

"I think it was a whole year before we spoke again. But time passed all the same. I became an adventurer, and earned a name for myself in my own way." Her voice carried a bit of pride. "I was the youngest vice guildmaster in Liresil's history, you know?"

"Not the youngest guildmaster though?" Wyn smiled.

"Would you believe the record for that is actually younger?"

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

They laughed softly, but Shani hadn't finished.

"In those years, my sister fulfilled her duties as always. The war with Nladia grew fierce, and we sent so many young men and women to die on those battlefields. The sepals are strongest here, and their charge wasn't a foreign war. They remained.

"It was… eighteen years ago, that my sister showed up at my doorstep one night, unannounced. Her eyes were so bright, like the sky on a cloudless day, and she was smiling like I hadn't seen her smile since we were children. She told me that she wouldn't be able to see me for a while, but that when she returned, she had something special to share with me—something truly wonderful."

Wyn tilted his head. "So what was it?"

"I don't know. That was the last time I ever saw her. She was found dead seven months later, without so much as a scratch on her."

"I'm so sorry," Wyn lowered his head. Though as much as he didn't want to, his mind couldn't stop working. "Do you think it was that 'duty'?"

Slowly, Shani shook her head. "Her body was taken by the sepals, and they declared she'd died of an illness. They came to me though, and asked if I knew why she might betray Haoma, so I think that was just an excuse. Not that I'd know. Frankly I think I was more shocked than them."

She betrayed Haoma? Wyn touched his chin. What does that even mean? Could I 'betray' Iillia? But I don't even know what it is she wants from me.

"I wonder," Shani whispered. "What would she tell me to do now? Her, Sadof, Viresa, Caln, Yyida, grandmother… Am I the only one left to uphold the duty they swore to fulfill? Am I really the only one left?"

She turned to look at Wyn, then down at her own missing arm. One dry laugh escaped her lips. "How sad."

Wyn sat quietly, clenching his fists in his lap. He should say something. The person he wanted to be—he would say something. He'd have the perfect words to pull her up, to make everything seem like it was going to be okay. But Wyn had nothing. Just how useless could he be?

In the end, Shani drew herself up with a deep breath. "I said no moping, and yet here I am. Seems I'm just as big a fool." Her gaze hardened once more. "Apologies, I guess I was just feeling a bit nostalgic. We'll regroup Wyn. I'm not sure what we'll do yet—but we won't give up. Even if the sepals are gone, someone has to bear their duty. They're all relying on me."

"You're right. We'll figure something out…" Wyn nodded.

She studied him for a moment. "Take your own advice Wyn, get some rest. You'll need every bit of strength you can muster."

Wyn turned, opening the door again. "I'll consider it."

He stepped out into the hallway, and Sadirah got to her feet. "How is she? Is everything going to be alright?"

Wyn smiled, hoping it didn't seem frayed. "Miss Cennet is fine, we just needed to discuss our battle plans. Don't worry, I'm going to make everything work out."

He wished he hadn't seen her face after he said it. The way she looked back at him—it seemed like she actually believed him.

And the truth was, Wyn had no idea what they were going to do.

***

Rhaelza sat on the edge of a broken fountain, inspecting a necklace she'd found in a nobleman's vault. It was a beautiful piece—a priceless sapphire hanging from a fine silver chain—though she didn't think it suited her.

So she tossed it aside.

The plaza was quiet, well away from the monsters that roamed the streets elsewhere. Of course, that was by design—her web ensnared most things that got anywhere near her, and she could count on one hand the things in this city that could threaten her.

Still, she sighed and lay back against the cool stone. "I never did get to try that pastry shop… what a shame."

It was a strange kind of joy, to mourn something so small. Pastries. Jewelry. All the luxuries of the east. The little Elysian girl she'd once been could never have dreamed of such a thing.

A butterfly drifted into her vision, its glowing form already dyed red with her own blood, and she sat up, her eyes snapping towards the alleys bordering the square. Footsteps echoed slowly against the stone.

A figure emerged.

"Boss!"

She ran forward and threw her arms around his slender shoulders. He didn't return the gesture—he never did—but one steady hand came up to pat her head.

"Rhaelza." His voice was soft, and warm. It hadn't changed since the day he'd found her outside her village, half-dead from starvation. "I trust you've been well."

She stepped back, collecting herself. "It's been pleasant," she said with a small nod. "This city is so beautiful… or it was."

He looked around at the ruined streets. Cracked stone carried the remnants of the aqueduct's water along the ground, mixing with grime and blood until it was black. Fires licked through canvas roofs and broken wooden walls, remnants of spells and techniques used against the hordes. Still, Rhaelza was grateful—only the dead streets of the siege made their meeting possible.

"Such is the natural cycle," he said quietly. "Life begets death, which in turn begets new life. Still, I can't help but feel a tinge of remorse. Xerxes did always say he wanted to visit. Destruction of this scale will take years to reverse."

Rhaelza tilted her head. "Where is Xerxes?"

A faint smile graced his face."I believe he mentioned something about hunting a kraken in the southern sea."

"That sounds like him."

"Doesn't it?"

They shared a brief laugh together before the mood settled again.

"Has something changed?" she asked at last. "I thought you were going to stay hidden until the very end."

"I still have no intention of revealing myself," he assured her. "But the delicate balance we'd hoped for has collapsed. The spirit knight has fallen, or didn't you hear?"

Rhaelza's eyes widened. "The flame channeler? How could that have happened so soon?"

"I can't claim to know the details myself, but the result is the same. Unfortunately, it means we'll have no choice but to interject ourselves more directly. Without that dog of the crown, they have no hope of defeating the cult's monster."

"So then we'll be forced to deal with him ourselves?" she asked carefully. "Do you intend to battle him? I'm not sure if I have the strength."

He laughed. "I'm not Xerxes, Rhaelza. I've neither the desire for such a battle, nor the overwhelming strength. I agree with your assessment as well—any battle with him is sure to be a close thing. Perhaps I could defeat him, but that would draw too much attention." His gaze lifted to the great tree above them, his smile fading. "No, if he gets word, then things could get quite dangerous for me. Especially since it's him I'm stealing from."

Rhaelza frowned. There it was again, the past. They'd asked him about it before, and he always said the same thing: 'I died and was reborn.'

The past is irrelevant to us. There is only the present and the future.

Those were some of the first words he'd said to her, and how badly she'd needed to hear them. But still, she couldn't help but wonder…

"So, then you'll rely on me?"

"I rely on all of you," he said with a small smile. "But that task isn't yours. I still need you to retrieve the traveler's lantern. Until we've left the city, I cannot be near it. When the time is right, I'll send a butterfly to guide you to the sanctum."

"You knew where it was the whole time?" she complained. "I was looking for it!"

Slowly, he shook his head. "The sanctum cannot be found. At least not by us, not before the solstice. It's—"

"Wait." Rhaelza held up a hand as a feeler wavered nearby. "Something's here, a street over. How'd it get this far in?"

His shoulders didn't even tense. "Monster or man?"

"Not sure. Its aura's faint."

"Take me there."

The answer was soon apparent, as they found a cellar door forced open within the range of her web, which didn't extend below-ground. A grisly trail of blood had been tracked out, leading to a young boy, maybe eight years old, collapsed on the ground some twenty feet away. A chunk had been torn from his side and he was missing two fingers along with countless other injuries which had soaked him in blood. He wasn't conscious, but his small chest still rose and fell, shuddering with each gravelly breath.

The boss crouched and peered down the cellar stairs. "He must have hid in the cellar when the siege began. An unfortunate choice. Look."

Rhaelza followed his gaze and immediately looked away. The bottom of the stairs pooled with death. The bodies were too mangled to make much out, but a single furred corpse lay halfway up the stairs, a broken chair leg rammed through its heart from above.

He stared down into the darkness, his gaze unwavering. For a moment, his aura leaked out, stygian, thick with the scent of rot, and Rhaelza shivered.

Then he turned away, and it dispersed just as quickly.

He knelt down over the collapsed boy, and his hands began to glow with a soft green light. Minutes passed in silence, and butterflies, green and red both, drifted in by the hundreds, reabsorbing into his body.

Rhaelza frowned. It wasn't unusual for the boss. But the cost? "Should you really be wasting mana on him? Letting him die isn't the same as killing him."

He didn't respond, and she wouldn't question him twice.

Slowly, the boy's wounds knit together, regenerated in places, stitched in others, as he was brought back from the brink of death. Eventually, his breathing grew easier, and all that remained was the blood caked onto his skin.

A complete healing.

"Rhaelza," the boss whispered, his voice hard beneath its silk. "I have two more tasks for you."

"What do you need?"

"First, take this boy to the adventurer's guild. He'll need safety when he wakes."

"Of course." Rhaelza hefted the child into her arms and then over her shoulder. She had full faith in the healing, so it was fine. "And the second?"

"You have a competitor to the north. I'd like you to deal with her."

"Oh?" Rhaelza tilted her head. "Is there a reason?"

His gaze turned back up towards the spirit tree, and she only wished she could see the expression on his face.

"Well, the cult being weakened is good for our purposes. Though I suppose I would also call it… a favor."

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