Wyn stared across the plaza at Sadirah, who was standing in a crater from which not even smoke rose. The entire area around her and the child she was protecting had been vaporized, and a silence had fallen over the crowd.

She looked in his direction, but her gaze was distant and unfocused, even as tears ran down her cheeks.

Wyn crossed the gap amidst the sudden calm, and only as he grew closer did she seem to really notice he was there. Something returned to her, and her body began to shake. The girl she'd been protecting slipped from her arms as she looked around at the destruction once more, then down at her own hands. She wrapped her arms around herself as she trembled, like she was trying to ward off the cold.

"Sadirah—" Wyn reached out a hand, but she pulled away, her eyes flashing with fear. His hand froze, and he slowly withdrew.

"Not now," she whispered, her voice small. Seconds before, she'd been streaming with aura, but now, it was like a gate inside her had been closed, and it had been locked back within. From the outside, Wyn couldn't see anything at all, even in his mana sight. "Please."

Unsure of what to say, he just nodded, "Okay."

Wyn, are you alright? Eia's voice came through. I felt—

I'm fine, really. He turned away from Sadirah to give her space as he scanned for any remaining dangers in the dark. Don't worry. Are the light spirits… Nevermind.

The brightness around him was telling—the light spirits had finally gathered, a dozen or so spinning above his head, orbiting like little stars in the night.

Wyn closed his eyes and took a deep breath, recentering himself. His worries, his questions, his doubts, he shoved them down as he focused on the flames residing in his chest. There were surely more people out there in the dark. Hiding under their beds, bleeding on the ground in some alleyway, or even trapped in a cellar, terrified of the monsters raging above. He wanted to find them, to hold their hand, staunch their wounds, and take them to a place where they would feel safe.

But there were also people right here in front of him. They were within his reach.

He opened his eyes, and got to work.

Through the newly-formed contract, he fed them more spirit fire, and they brightened further, following his intent as they spun faster and denser, until they'd formed a brilliant halo of light above his head, rising higher and higher. They soon ascended the tops of the buildings, where he hoped they'd be visible for a ways.

Soon, they were shining bright enough to dimly illuminate the entire plaza, with a sort of spotlight focused directly on him.

Then he started to yell. "Everyone gather up with me!" He tried to project his voice as best he could, hoping it would reach those people hiding in any places he hadn't seen. "I'll take you to shelter!"

Though they'd scattered from the sudden monster attack earlier, the group he'd put together in the fountain slowly regrouped under the light, crowding together as their eyes darted around, and murmurs of uncertainty bubbled up amongst them. As he'd hoped, more people stumbled out from alleyways, came out of half-destroyed buildings, and even climbed down from trees. They were drawn towards the light, a warm glow like the sun, which cast back the dangers of the night. It was human nature after all, fearing the dark.

As they gathered, he saw that some of them were looking past him, towards Sadirah. He could understand why—they'd all seen what he had. But when he saw the way they tensed in fear, he felt a pang in his chest.

Look at me then.

He raised his blade into the air, and it caught alight. The flash of color drew the remaining eyes to him, and he spoke again.

"My name is Wyn, of Straetum!" He paused as his words rang out over the plaza. He wished he had something to brag about, a title to claim… If he could say he was a spirit knight, wouldn't that make everyone feel so much safer? "Please, give me your trust. If you can do that, then I promise, I will keep all of you safe!"

Some of them shifted, looking away, and then back towards his flaming sword. No one moved, no one ran. That was good enough for now.

He surveyed the surrounding area. The ground had stopped cracking, and monsters no longer crawled up from the depths in droves. The immediate danger had been dealt with, but he could still hear the sounds of more battles and alarms in the neighboring streets.

If they moved they would likely encounter more monsters, but they couldn't just stay put either. Where could they go that would be safe—Eryndor's estate? That might work, it had sturdy walls at least, and he remembered one of the staff members mentioning they had to maintain the wards.

It was far though. They were basically on the eastern edge of the city, whereas Eryndor's estate was to the south. Worse yet, the southwest was the direction that the Acolyte of Sloth had gone. If he was responsible for the flooding, then Wyn imagined that they would be worse in that direction.

He looked back at the group of people, which had swelled to almost two scores. About half were injured in some way, and a dozen or so looked as though they could barely walk. No—he couldn't lead such a group like this through that safely. Eryndor's estate was out, but where else in the city could he take them? A defensible location likely to have allies…

He clapped his hands together to get their attention. "It's time to move! Get me a cart, anything with wheels that aren't splintered will work. We're not leaving anyone behind!"

The order lit a spark of motion, and hastened some of the healthier survivors into action. After a bit of searching, they managed to scavenge three two-wheeled carts from the rubble. As they loaded those with the worst injuries onto the carts, Wyn started speaking again.

"Now, are any of you trained warriors? Military or adventurer, I don't care."

A burly man with mutton chops stepped forward. He was already holding a hatchet, and Wyn didn't remember saving him. He must have come when he saw the lights.

"What's your name sir?"

"Manton, sir. I served in the militia during the war." He flipped the hatchet in his hands, catching it without any fear of the blade. "I'm no channeler, but I know my way around a fight."

"Good enough. You'll be bringing up the rear, make sure we don't get attacked from behind. Anyone else?"

A few more stepped forward, and Wyn assigned them to different spots, putting them on the outer edge of the group, with the children in the middle.

Once more, he raised his blade up, wreathing it in flames. "So long as you see the light of these flames, know that you're under my protection! And while I stand, none of you are going to die! Now move out!"

They headed west, towards the base of the tree in the distance.

***

The destruction seemed to decrease as they drew closer to the inner city, though Wyn suspected it was only because they'd been in what was essentially ground-zero for the monsters. Even closer to the trunk, fissures still ran along the ground where monsters had broken up—though in lesser numbers.

They encountered several packs and lone monsters roaming the city as they went, but between Wyn and the few men and women in fighting condition, they were able to handle them, slaying scores more. Over time, more and more refugees had found the group, stumbling out of ruined buildings, or running towards them, waving arms and begging for help saving loved ones trapped further away.

He helped those he could, piling the injured into scavenged carts, and distributing makeshift weapons among the rest. But now that he'd organized the group, he was able to keep everyone safe much easier.

Strange green butterflies drifted about, glowing in the dark. Over the course of their trek, dozens approached, targeting those amongst them with open wounds. At first, Wyn had been wary of them, but once he realized they were healing people, he put any worries aside. In truth, he was grateful. They seemed to distract the children, and even some of the adults, pushing back the tension that gripped them with each minor relief.

No, what truly worried him were the bodies draped in dark purple, which lay throughout the streets, arrows and blades embedded within, surrounded by the remnants of battles with the city's watch, or other adventurers. Against the darkness of the robes, the bloody wounds were invisible, making it seem like puppets who had dropped with their strings cut—inhuman, and something he didn't understand.

He'd heard from some of the survivors that the attackers were some group known as The Cult of The Old God. The name was vaguely familiar, probably a passing mention in history books he'd once read. He didn't know much about them though, and neither did anyone else. Much like the god they supposedly worshipped, the cult was a relic of the past, from a time before the war.

Putting two and two together, they were the ones responsible for poisoning Haoma—but he didn't understand why.

Eia, are you still following that Acolyte?

I am, her voice came back firm. He's been walking around the edge of the city, and is heading up the west side now. The monsters continue to spring up wherever he is, then rampage erratically. They don't go far outside the city though. I flew up high to spot them, but I haven't seen any go more than a few hundred yards out.

Wyn looked back the way they'd come. That explained why the inner city was emptier. Breaking free on the outer edge where the Acolyte walked, they would naturally diffuse into the city from there. Since he'd thinned the numbers on the edge, their path was less dangerous. Not to mention, people further in would have had more time to react to the alarms in the distance.

But Wyn, as he came up the western side of the city, there were already monsters there ahead of him.

It would make sense if there were more than just him, Wyn posited. For example, four of them, one for each cardinal direction, walking clockwise around the city. Tell me if he stops.

I will.

Wyn adjusted his grip on his sword as the column of people trudged forward, footsteps heavy, wheels creaking against the broken stone. After a time, Sadirah walked up beside him, having brought her shawl up over her head like a blanket, trying to hide from the outside world.

For a while, neither of them spoke, though he couldn't help but keep glancing over, and wondering if he should say something. But what would he say?

Do you want to talk about that outburst you clearly don't want to talk about?

Yeah, right.

In the end, Sadirah was the first to break the silence. "Do you think they're alright?"

Wyn didn't need to ask who she was talking about. "Yeah, I'm sure they're fine."

"They're just kids, Wyn." Her hands tightened around the edges of her shirt. "And with the Withering, if monsters attacked then—"

"They're smart," he said firmly. "And even if Iskareth isn't there, Miss Jana and the other caretakers will make sure they're safe."

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"Safe like them?" Sadirah looked back at the injured following behind.

He took a moment, trying to think of something that would reassure her. "Our situation was different. We were at ground zero for the attack. By the time the alarms went off, it was too late." He glanced sidelong at her, trying to read her expression. "They would have had time to find shelter."

"I shouldn't be here," she said, shaking her head. "I should be with them. They need me, Wyn."

"You can't protect them if you're dead. And they wouldn't want you to throw your life away trying to make it across the city."

She turned away, hiding her face behind her shawl. She tapped her hands against her cheeks twice, and took a deep breath. Slowly, she turned back and smiled, but it was hollow. "Yeah, you're right."

"Listen," Wyn took her hand. "I have to get everyone here to safety. The city isn't safe, and I can't leave either you or them alone. But I promise Sadirah, I'll do everything in my power to make sure your family is safe. Have a little faith in me… okay?"

She struggled with something for a moment, and her hand squeezed his tightly—too tightly. If he was a normal person, she might have hurt him. It wasn't something he could keep overlooking. But for just a little longer…

"Okay," Sadirah said quietly. "I trust you."

He glanced at the puncture wound on her shoulder. She'd wrapped it in torn rags, but it was a bad wound, and the surrounding cloth had already dyed a bloody red. "Does it hurt?" he asked. "I could take a look at it if you wanted."

"I'm fine," she insisted. "There are people worse off than me to worry about. Besides, the rags are stuck on there, you know? Peeling them off before getting to a healer seems counter productive."

"Sir Wyn!" Someone shouted from behind. "There's a monster to the right!"

He spun, his sword already blazing as he caught sight of a huge spider-like creature stalking them from within an alley. Sadirah let go of his hand.

Somehow, no matter what it took, he'd find a way to save them all.

***

As they drew closer to their destination, Wyn heard the rage of monsters, and the detonation of spells ahead. He held up a hand, drawing the nervous group to a stop as they came within view of their destination, the safe-haven he'd been trying to reach.

The adventurer's guild was under siege.

The curving fortified walls surrounding the courtyards and terraces had seemed strange to Wyn at first, but as he saw them still holding against the flood, he felt only relief. Just outside the walls, countless monsters prowled around, snarling and hissing, but they had been held back. They were being abnormally patient, but were still tense, ready to attack at the drop of a hat. Somewhere down another alley, he could hear deep chanting, and occasionally a spell would fly up towards the walls, or down from them. From atop the towers and other fortifications along the perimeter, arrows rained down into the horde, but more streamed in to maintain the line.

"It's blocked," Sadirah said. "Can we break through that?"

Wyn stared at her for a moment, then turned his eyes back to the problem at hand. "Not much choice I think. The problem will be getting those gates open."

He pointed to the entryway, a pointed arch barred by huge wooden doors, no doubt reinforced with mana.

"How can we get their attention?"

Wyn glanced upwards towards the ring of light in the air above. "I'd bet they can see us just fine. But it's only a matter of time before this attracts the wrong kind of attention. Damn, I guess we just have to go for it."

"What do you—"

Before Sadirah could finish asking him what that meant, he stepped forward towards the gate and began to shout.

"Gate!" His voice cracked over the open ground. "I've got survivors! Do you hear me?"

At the sound of his voice, the monsters turned in sync, facing the sudden intrusion, though they didn't attack right away, like they had to consider whether or not to abandon their posts. But Wyn saw a helm glint atop the battlements, followed by a woman's voice, harsh and hoarse. "We hear! Pushing out!"

The gates cracked open, just enough for a group to pour out, battling the monsters back as they tried to flood into the opening.

"Move!" Wyn roared. The refugees surged forwards after him, carts creaking as they raced forward towards the walls.

Now, the monsters reacted. As a snarling pack of hounds pounced, the flames rose up inside of him, coiling from his chest to his hands. His blade hissed as spirit fire bloomed along its edge and cut down the nearest beast in a single strike.

Arrows whistled overhead as a bombardment pinned down the cultists who tried to intervene, and more adventurers surged from the gap with each moment. Dozens of them rushed into the streets, forcing back the press of monsters with spears and shields as Wyn cut a path straight towards them, violet flames dancing in the night.

Finally, he reached the ring, which opened up to let them in. Wyn held back though, helping to hold the line.

One cart got stuck in the mud, the last of the injured lying within. He heaved it forward with one arm, bisecting a monster with the other without looking. "Go!"

The last of them stumbled through, and the ring slowly closed, drawing back tighter and tighter, until they were back within the gates. At a shouted order, a group of men pulled at the thick metal chains, drawing the doors closed as the monsters tried to force their way in.

"Volley!" A voice shouted from atop the walls, and another wave of arrows loosed, some detonating within the horde, and the doors slammed shut with a shudder that shook the stones.

The lone monster that made it through was quickly run through, squealing before falling still in the dirt. Wyn lowered his sword, spirit fire sputtering out as he withdrew it, noticing the gazes of the stunned adventurers surrounding him.

A few seconds passed as everyone caught their breath, listening to the muted siege as the monsters threw themselves against the doors without so much as shaking them. Torches burned along the inside of the walls, and lanterns hung throughout, illuminating the open courtyards and paths. Despite the siege, the guild seemed largely undisturbed. There weren't signs of damage, or fissures breaking up through the ground. No, the evidence was in the people—adventurers who hurried around with grim faces, merchants quiet as they looked from their stalls up towards the walls, and the civilians huddled together under the awnings, or sitting against the terraces that ran up the hill towards the trunk of the spirit tree in the back.

"Civilians to the west side!" A voice cut through the clamor, the same one from earlier. "We've got injured in those carts! Get them to the healers right now!"

The adventurers jolted into action, like they'd been kicked in the rear, quickly taking the carts and guiding the wounded further into the guild. Sadirah gave him a final look before getting led away to have the wound on her shoulder checked out.

The woman he assumed was in charge walked down from the ramparts. She was middle-aged, with iron-gray hair tied back with cloth, though her body was still undoubtedly that of a warrior's, with broad shoulders and thick arms beneath her tunic and leathers. Hardened eyes ran him over, assessing his worth, before she finally looked satisfied.

She stuck out a calloused hand. "Shani Cennet, guildmistress of Liresil. And you are?"

"Wyn, of Straetum. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine—Straetum? Can't say I've heard of it."

He chuckled. "You wouldn't be the first."

"Well, in any case, more capable hands are welcome. You handled yourself well there. Almost gave me a heart attack when you started shouting though. The lights had me worried. Are those spirits?" She pointed upwards, squinting into the light given off by the spirits above.

"Ah, sorry," having finally reached safety, Wyn dismissed them, and the spirits spun around wider and wider, before ultimately dispersing, their light fading into the night.

"A spirit arts user huh?" She eyed him appreciatively. "Useful."

Wyn frowned. "You've encountered others like me?"

Shani laughed. "Of course I have. You think that's so rare? The sepals all use the spirit arts, and we've got at least three others here with us." Her smile fell slightly at the mention of the sepals. She shook her head and perked up a moment later though, clapping him on the shoulder. "Contracting with light spirits though? I've never seen that."

Wyn chuckled awkwardly. "I've never actually heard the term 'spirit arts' before. I guess you could say I'm self-taught."

"That so? I know a thing or two myself—have to, as guildmaster. Used to hear about it from my sister too. But I suppose that's not important right now. You look pretty banged up yourself."

Wyn looked down at his arms and winced. He'd been ignoring it through spirit fire and will, but the guildmistress was right. Long cuts ran up and down their lengths, and he could feel bruises all over. His hand, too, had almost healed thanks to the life elixir, but the remnants of the burn scar still remained.

"I can manage for a bit longer," he said anyway. "How can I help?"

Shani gave him a dry look. "By getting your butt to the infirmary. Get checked out and treated. Once you're back on your feet, I'll get you an assignment. I just wish I knew what that damned cult's doing in our city."

She doesn't know. Wyn realized. Well, then again neither do I, but I might know more than her.

"They're poisoning Haoma," he said.

She stiffened, her eyes locking back onto him with new interest. "And what makes you say that?"

He hesitated for a second, but the truth was, as far as Wyn was concerned, this was already the worst-case-scenario. "I've been investigating it with a spirit knight from Taravast for the past few days."

"That Kaelburn fellow… I heard he made quite a stir here yesterday. And you claim you're with him? Damn, what are the sepals doing at a time like this?"

"They're dead."

There was a harsh silence following the words, a long moment before Shani was able to respond. "Dead?"

Wyn winced at the tone of her voice. Maybe there had been a better way to say that. "We think so. The cult got to them before we ever arrived."

Shani's face seemed to go through a myriad of emotions in an instant—disbelief, rage, grief—before she seemed to school herself, setting her jaw and stumbling over to a barrel where she promptly sat down, rubbing her face with one hand.

"Seems you can ask her yourself, Sadof," she muttered under her breath. "Tree rot. Alright I get the picture. We're up to our waists in shit, and we're gonna have to dig our way out."

Wyn blinked. "Um… yes?"

"So where's Kaelburn now?"

"I don't know," Wyn admitted. "I wasn't with him when everything happened. I wanted to go to his estate—I assume that's where they'll all be—but here was closer."

She looked up over the outer walls. "His estate… it's to the south, isn't that right?"

"Yeah, and a ways out. I could do it though. Monsters are a specialty of mine. Failing that, I might have another way to contact them."

"Gotta love spirit arts users… It's not the monsters I'm worried about, kid. Though they're only going to get worse, both in number and strength, as more of the dungeon floods. At the end of the day, monsters are stupid, mostly. I fear man more than any monster, and make no mistake, man is our enemy."

"Do you know anything else about the cult?" he asked. "There has to be something we can use."

"Nothing useful, and I haven't encountered any of them myself. I was in my office when everything went tits-up. We've had some refugees from the upper levels, where the cultists struck the hardest, and I heard about an 'Acolyte of Delusion', some sort of leader if I had to guess, but that's about it."

"They struck harder than down here?"

"I meant the cultists proper. They couldn't flood the upper levels, so no monsters until they started going up the walkways."

"So monsters below, and their forces above." Wyn looked up towards the platforms above. "An Acolyte of Delusion… I ran into a self-proclaimed Acolyte of Sloth. I'm certain he's the one responsible for the flooding."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Delusion… Sloth… They take after the five failings."

"I considered something similar. Do you think that means there's five of them?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"Not sure how much stock I put in that myself," Wyn mumbled. "But is does seem like a pattern. There might be something there."

Shani let out a slow breath and stood, her gaze firm once more. "Head to the infirmary Wyn. Ask for a healer named Elis, and let him have a look at you. Once he gives you the all clear, we'll continue our conversation. They haven't made another big move yet, but that doesn't exactly make me feel better."

Wyn opened his mouth to protest, but the glare she gave him reminded him something of his mother, and he swallowed his words. "Understood guildmistress."

"Good," she looked him over a final time, her eyes discerning. "When you get back, you'll start by telling me everything from the beginning. Everything Kaelburn has told you, or anything you learned in these 'investigations', I want to know. My sister always was secretive about things, but I might know something he wouldn't."

"Your sister?"

Shani turned, walking back up towards the ramparts. Her voice was dry, and she didn't look back as she spoke. "One of the previous sepals. My older sister. Nasrin Cennet."

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