The fire cracked in the middle of the clearing, sparks drifting upward into the dark canopy. Around it sat three figures: two young siblings, their eyes reflecting the orange glow, and a woman whose every small movement carried the clink of chains.

The night was still, save for the flames and the metallic echo whenever the chained woman shifted her legs. Shadows pressed in from all sides, the forest heavy and watchful.

The sister was the first to break the silence. "Isn't it strange? The First Pillar isn't here."

Her twin leaned forward, tossing a twig into the fire. "Skipping a meeting… that's unlike him."

The chained woman tilted her head slightly, the steel links dragging softly across the ground. "Unusual indeed." Her voice was low, carrying a hint of amusement—or suspicion.

They fell quiet again, the crackling wood filling the gap. In front of them, on a flat piece of timber serving as a table, rested an orb of crystal. Its surface was dull at first, like dead glass, catching only fragments of firelight.

The siblings exchanged a glance. The brother frowned, tapping his knee impatiently. The sister whispered, "It should've spoken by now."

The chained woman didn't reply. She simply turned her head toward the orb, the faintest smirk playing at her lips as the glass began to pulse faintly with inner light.

The fire popped, a log splitting. The orb's glow grew stronger, soft ripples of pale luminescence spreading through its surface. The clearing itself seemed to lean closer, the darkness around them pressing heavier with every beat of the light.

The twins straightened instinctively, the brother whispering under his breath, "Finally."

The orb's glow steadied, a pale white light swirling inside. Then, a voice emerged—low, distant, and layered, as though echoing from a place beyond the world.

Elarin had joined them.

"The First will not attend. He encountered… complications during his last mission. He rests now."

The twins exchanged uneasy looks. The brother frowned. "Complications? That's not like him."

The orb pulsed once before continuing. "And Torwan of Tharvaldur… is dead."

For a moment, the fire seemed to lose its sound. The sister's eyes widened, her voice sharp. "Torwan… dead?!"

The chained woman shifted slightly, the rattle of her bindings filling the silence. She let out a dry chuckle. "That's… unexpected. A dwarf with that much influence—gone."

The brother gritted his teeth. "This is a heavy blow. His connections, his funds… half of our leverage in Tharvaldur ran through him."

His twin nodded, brows furrowed. "Without Torwan, operations will be slowed. Even if the First returns, losing a pillar like him—"

"Do not concern yourselves."

The voice from the orb cut them off, calm and absolute. The light inside twisted, shifting into patterns none of them could name.

"Torwan's fall was foreseen. His role is concluded. Everything proceeds as planned."

The twins glanced at one another, uncertain, but neither dared to question directly.

The sister finally asked, "So… this changes nothing?"

"Nothing," Elarin answered. "The river flows even if one stone sinks. The current does not break."

The chained woman tilted her head, chains sliding as she leaned closer to the orb. "Cryptic as always. But if you say it continues, I'll take you at your word."

The brother muttered under his breath, still restless. "Losing Torwan… it doesn't feel like nothing."

The orb pulsed again, the glow inside shifting into strange, spiraling forms. When Elarin's voice returned, it was as calm as ever, detached from their worries.

"In two weeks, the twins will move. Your mission is clear."

The brother leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "We're already prepared. By the time the sun sets on that day, we'll be in Valor."

His sister's tone followed without hesitation. "We know what needs to be done. The fall of House Thorne."

The fire crackled, but the weight of the words sank heavier than the flames. The chained woman tilted her head, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. The chains around her wrists shifted with a harsh metallic rasp.

"Thorne, hm? Bold choice. You'll draw plenty of eyes with that target."

The brother scoffed. "We're not afraid of eyes."

His sister added, sharper, "We're not afraid of blood either."

Elarin's voice hummed from the orb, cutting through the tension. "The Thorne line protects what must remain hidden. Break the house, and the shield weakens. The path opens."

The twins glanced at one another, uncertainty flashing in their expressions. The brother spoke, slower now: "That's your reason? Because they're guarding something?"

The orb's light darkened faintly, its tone even more cryptic. "Not something. The thread that binds me outside of your world. Tear it, and the walls will thin."

A silence followed, heavy, almost uncomfortable. The sister frowned, but said nothing. The brother sat back, his lips pressed into a tight line. The chained woman's smirk widened as if she found amusement in their unease.

"You always speak in riddles," she said lightly, her chains dragging when she crossed one leg over the other. "But if this ends with Valor trembling, then I'll enjoy the view."

The orb dimmed slightly, though its presence still pressed on them. "Do not question the current. You only need to follow where it flows."

- Noel POV -

The muffled hum of the ship filled the narrow corridor as Noel made his way toward Roberto's cabin. He hadn't seen much of him these last few days—apart from meals, Roberto had mostly disappeared into his room.

Noel knocked once, then pushed the door open without waiting. "If you've merged with the bed, tell me now so I can stop wasting my time."

Inside, Roberto was sprawled across his mattress, arms behind his head, staring blankly at the ceiling. At the sound of Noel's voice, he groaned. "I was hoping if I stayed still long enough, you'd forget I existed."

Noel smirked, stepping in. "Tempting. But then who'd I bully when training gets boring?"

Roberto cracked one eye open and gave him a half-hearted glare. "You could always bother Marcus. He loves being lectured."

"I said fun, not torture," Noel shot back, leaning against the wall.

For a moment, the room was quiet except for the creak of the ship. Then Roberto sighed, rolling onto his side to look at him. "You're too energetic, you know that? I can't keep up. Half the time I feel like if I blink, you'll be off fighting dragons or something."

Noel crossed his arms, feigning seriousness. "That's insulting. Dragons are way out of your league."

Roberto snorted despite himself, a smile breaking through. "Yeah, yeah. Remind me why we're friends again?"

"Because no one else can stand you," Noel replied flatly.

Roberto chuckled, tossing a pillow at him. Noel caught it with one hand and dropped it back onto the bed. The tension in the room eased.

For all his laziness, Roberto wasn't just another classmate. He was Noel's anchor—the one person who treated him the same, whether he was winning fights or crawling out of them half-dead.

"Don't rot in here too long," Noel said as he pushed off the wall. "I'll need you awake to keep the others from doing something stupid."

Roberto yawned, flopping back down. "Fine, fine. But let me enjoy my nap while it lasts."

Noel smirked as he pulled the door shut. "Hopeless."

But the grin lingered on his face as he walked back down the corridor.

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