Bebele surveyed the hangar with meticulous care, their circle of ears twitching as they inhaled—long, deliberate—before exhaling in a ripple that hummed through the ship's Ryun. It was a strange sound, but everyone aboard had learned what it meant. The all-clear.

With Bebele stamped approval, even Ozzy relaxed. And Tabia, for all her skepticism, trusted it.

The plan was simple. Two groups. One for the Whispering Tree, one for the Vari Jujisn. But Ozzy's grin broke that neatly stacked arrangement apart.

"I've got a better idea everybody!," he said, tapping the glowing X etched into his forehead. "Me, Little T, and North take the sky. Just us. Flying won't be a problem, and this way the whole crew can hammer down on Magjesti's quest. More bodies, more firepower, more chances for waffles afterward."

Tabia's jaw tightened, her crimson eyes narrowing. Her instincts screaming at her to point out all the ways this was reckless. But she didn't. The Captain had spoken. And more than that, she trusted him—even when his madness walked too close to the edge.

Caroline and Tinsurnae exchanged a glance, "Is this really necessary?" Tinsurnae asked carefully. "The Tree might not even—"

"I trust you ladies to keep things tidy."

"It is necessary," North cut in, "If that Whispering Tree's anything like the Umbra Wolves, you need to be ready for jumpings, curses, whatever bullshit it throws. North chuckled, though his eyes flickered sharper. "Besides, the three of us flying is faster. Less noise. Less risk."

The words were casual, but the thought behind them was heavier. With Ozzy, Tabia, and himself, what could slow them down? Especially once they met up with Destiny. He was 87% sure he could get her over to their side.

For the rest of the crew, the path was equally dangerous, but clearer. Caroline's side quest wasn't just a distraction—it was insurance. Caroline mentioned something about alchemy, so he would ask her about that in a bit.

And so, with Bebele's ears twitching and his voice echoing final approval, the ship groaned to life.

Jack and Sšurtinaui entered the chamber together. Her long silver hair spilled over the collar of her blue jumper suit, her stride measured but heavy. Jack, by contrast, carried himself like a coiled spring, his Black Hawks black-and-grey attire sharp against the glow of the chamber lights. Excitement flickered in his eyes.

The catch-up was quick. Jack announced, almost proudly, that Sšurtinaui was now his Teach. North laughed out loud at the declaration, shaking his head as Jack smirked and added, "Enjoy the spotlight while you can." With that, he darted off, already scheming on how to bother Bebele.

Left with North, Sšurtinaui sighed, silver hair sliding over her shoulder. "It wasn't out of kindness alone. Training him means I can learn his abilities—and find counters. If he turns against us, I want to be ready."

North nodded, the humor leaving his face. "Smart. But I think the kid's good at heart. He's reckless, maybe even dangerous, but Tinsurnae should be able to handle him if it comes to it."

Preparations moved quickly after that. Orders were finalized, crews divided, and the farewells set in motion.

Ozzy stood before his four hundred strong, his voice booming like a hymn. He spoke of the Blood Prince, of their duty under the Occulted Moon, and of the promise that this tale—their tale—would not be forgotten. His command was simple: ensure the Blood Prince's team reached their goal by any means necessary. The crew roared back their approval.

Then it was North's turn.

He moved quietly among his team, giving each of them a moment. Caroline got the first hug, North bent low and whispered, "Watch Jack. Stay sharp. You've got the skill to pull this off. Don't get too overconfident."

"I'll keep a slot auto saved if I mess up."

"You can do that?"

"Nope!"

They stared at each other. For all her brilliance, she was still just a gamer at the end of the day. He asked what reward she expected from her quest again, and when she whispered, "Alchemy… it'll open a path to Magic," his eyes widened. Magic. He'd almost forgotten such a thing existed in Requiem.

Sšurtinaui next. North clasped her forearm before pulling her into a brief embrace. "You're steady. Keep being that. He'll need it. They'll need it."

"And you don't forget who you are." She whispered as she hugged him back.

Tinsurnae came last. Her green eyes were steady, but he caught the tremor in them. "I'll find a way around the curse," she said firmly. Then softer: "When you meet Destiny, ask her about "Ascending". My other half mentioned it. I don't know what it means, but… it matters."

North nodded solemnly. "I will. And don't worry you'll be good out there. Don't let self doubt get you now."

"I was pretending before…"

"Eh, at this point you faked it till you made it." He shrugged and pulled her in closer.

When the hugs and soft words were done, North turned to Jack. The boy leaned against the wall, smirking, trying to look unimpressed.

"Got something for me too, Prince?" Jack asked, voice sharp with sarcasm.

North stepped closer, aura rising like a tide. "Yeah. Your team's lives matter. Every one of them. If anything happens to them because of your recklessness—don't bother coming back."

Jack blinked, his smirk faltering into a frown. "Is that a threat?"

North leaned in, his presence pressing down like gravity, voice low and unflinching.

"It's a promise."

"Geez, dude. Don't gotta be a dick," Jack muttered, arms crossed.

North raised an eyebrow, "I was also gonna say I hope you get the spotlight you're looking for."

The two locked eyes. Jack's glare was tight, defensive; North's stare was steady, almost unreadable.

"Go crazy," North finally said. "Just be smart about it."

Jack squinted, testing for sarcasm, but North's tone held. He gave a short nod. "I'mma prove to y'all I'm not just some dumbass."

North grinned and laughed. "You said it, not me—"

"Yeah, yeah," Jack cut him off. "Don't you gotta go?"

North chuckled, brushing past him. "Be safe out there."

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Jack smirked, firing back without hesitation. "Try not to die out there."

North turned back once, still smiling. Jack didn't know it, but North was relieved—relieved the kid hadn't completely hardened into arrogance. He'd been hard on him, sure, but people like Jack needed the rod before the carrot, or else they'd trample over everyone. Still… deep down, North believed Jack wasn't stupid enough to turn on the team. With Tinsurnae, Sšurtinaui, Caroline, and the Occulted Moon watching him, Jack would be held in check. And so far? He'd actually behaved better than expected.

At the hanger, Ozzy and Tabia stood by an open launch bay, Ryun barriers humming against the outside void.

"You ready?" Ozzy asked in a giddy tone.

North joined them, turning back once. His team stood gathered. The woman waved, calling for him to be safe. Even Jack gave a mock salute.

"Y'all better have a good story for me when I'm back!" North shouted.

"You better come back with something useful!" Sšurtinaui called back.

North laughed, then looked to Ozzy and Tabia. They both nodded. Together, they leapt into the night sky. North floated on instinct, Tabia glided with grace, and Ozzy—

"Are you running on the air?" North asked.

Ozzy beamed beneath his blindfold, pounding invisible ground with each step. "Running feels better! Plus, I still need my two million steps for the night!"

North and Tabia broke into laughter. With that, the three of them cut across the scarred horizon, following the thread North had spun toward Destiny Vari.

———

"Lady Civen, the fleets have all landed."

Civen turned lazily from her lounge chair. Even in a city as broken as Veltrisse, its interiors still held dignity—polished stone walls, warm silks, and banners untouched by dust. Likely the Commander and Calmbrand had insisted on its upkeep. The irony made her smile.

"The next phase," she purred, "is now inevitable."

AAA-Ka-Nier's skeletal frame loomed beside her, bones strung together by jagged threads of faded robes. Hollow sockets burned with a dull green glow, and its teeth clattered faintly when it shifted. The creature chittered, a staccato whisper.

"Not yet," Civen said smoothly. "She needs a few more preparations on her end before the ritual begins."

Against the far wall, Keryna Vel Dross crossed her arms, forest-green Ryun armor whispering as its plates flexed. Spirit-markings shimmered across the pauldrons—signs of old rebellions. Her crimson eyes, sharp and unflinching, remained fixed on Civen. Around her, her aura and armor worked together in quiet sophistication: muffling their words into silence for eavesdroppers, disguising the conversation as static emptiness.

When Keryna lifted two fingers in a subtle signal of confirmation, Civen chuckled softly.

Her patron, Shess'va Hissaria—the Veiled Serpent of Silent Splendor—was weaving quite the net. Recruiting gods under the guidance of a higher benefactor, perhaps even a Supreme Family Head. After all, how else could Shess'va stir faith in her name after centuries of silence? Even Familiane, the Veiled Luminara, seemed involved. Not openly, of course, but Eirian's loose tongue had revealed enough. The leverage Shess'va gave her was invaluable.

Still, the memory that flickered through Civen's mind made her clench her fist tight enough that her nails bit into her palm.

"What's the plan for positioning them all?" Keryna asked at last, her tone even but edged.

Civen smoothed her expression, curling her lip into a faint smile. "I'll move them where I want. That part is simple. I only need to trim away the overly suspicious ones first. Once that's done, the rest will follow."

"And the souls?"

"We already have enough," Civen replied. "Thousands, ripe for the ritual. Let the Commander and Calmbrand think we're obsessed with their armies; let them feel important. But our focus will be the civilians. They never see it coming. Especially since they asked me to "supply" guards for them."

Keryna narrowed her eyes. "And when they invoke truth pacts or their little abilities to make sure you can't deceive them?"

Civen's laugh was honey dipped venom. She tapped one of her scales with a lacquered nail. The faint click echoed in the room like a clock striking.

"Memory," she cooed, "is such an interesting thing."

————

"Ok, woah, time out."

Caelus slumped back, sweat dampening the sheets. His breath came heavy, his chest still rising and falling too quickly. Eirian shifted off him with a sigh, blue hair spilling down her face as she gave him a guilty glance.

"Sorry…"

Her tone was soft, almost embarrassed, but Caelus reached out and pulled her close anyway. Skin to skin, their bodies still hummed with heat.

"It's ok," he said between breaths. "I'm just… tired. That fight wasn't a typical PvP match."

Eirian exhaled hard, pressing her chest against him. "It's been years, and you still act like this a game. You can't scare me like that again, Caelus."

He nodded, jaw tightening. "I don't want to scare myself like that again." His eyes flickered with memory. "The Blood Prince. And that psycho kid. I should've killed him when I had the chance." He shivered. "A mistake I won't make again."

Eirian kissed his jaw, but her eyes were hard. "Then listen. Familiane didn't give you that sword just to swing it blindly. The Jujisn won't be fooled twice. Now that they know what the blade does, they'll guard themselves. You need a strategy."

Caelus traced her face with his hand. "Rituain's Jujisn has four slashes. The kid—six. The elf—three. And the Blood Prince has two." His lips curled into a faint smile. "I don't have to hit them as many times as they think."

Eirian shook her head. "And yet if you miss once, that's all it takes. Precision matters more than the number. Let's think of ways to make sure each cut lands."

They began to list them out… decoy pressure. She suggested creating feints with her Ryun constructs to force openings. If an enemy defended against her illusions, Caelus could strike while their focus split. Another idea piggybacking off that, was echo strikes. Caelus muttered about chaining Ryun into the sword's edge—phantom mixed illusion arcs that trailed behind his swing, so even if one missed, another would bite or give the feeling of being bit. The hesitation would end up with the same result. They also pondered restraint tactics. Eirian proposed pinning their targets in layered binds, sealing aura or restricting movement. Even half a second would be enough for the sword to claim its mark.

Though one idea kept popping up: Memory Fracture. Caelus's own idea. If Eirian used her memory abilities while attacking with the sword. It would be carving not at the body, but at memory on top of the soul. He suspected the sword's power could be stacked since his after images worked as cuts.

Eirian frowned, running her nails absently down his arm. "The first three we can test. The last one… that's dangerous."

"Dangerous is what wins," Caelus said coldly.

Her silence lingered, but she didn't argue. Instead, her thoughts shifted, voice lowering. "And what about Civen?"

Caelus's lips pressed into a thin line. "That cat-fish is worse than the Jujisn. She's not loyal to anyone. If she sees an opening, she'll betray us."

"So you don't trust her."

Caelus shook his head. His lips curled into a dry grin. "About as much as you'd trust a moose to watch over your garden."

Eirian burst out laughing, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. "That's silly."

"I'm serious." His tone hardened, though his eyes still glimmered with amusement. "Civen's planning something. I just don't know what her angle is. Our goddess says to work with her, but I know she has her own patron pulling strings. It's not just about alliances or the fleets—it's something deeper. Just not sure what..."

Eirian sobered, her laughter fading into a thoughtful frown. "She seems trustworthy enough so far…"

Caelus cut her off with a low growl. "Trustworthy? No. I'm telling you—Civen wants something more than power. With these fleets arriving, pressure's mounting. She'll use that. My guess?" He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "She's going after the army. She needs bodies. Countless lives to fuel whatever she's cooking."

Eirian's golden eyes narrowed. "Or…" She slid closer, voice a whisper at his ear. "She wants us to think it's the army. Too straight-forward, too obvious. That's not her style. Besides, we've got the larger force now, but most of ours are civilians."

He stilled. "Civilians?"

"Mm." Eirian tapped a finger against his chest. "What if her play isn't about killing—what if it's about bending them? Controlling them?"

Caelus considered it, jaw tight. "If she wanted innocent lives, she would've been crueler by now. The fact the natives are working with her? That's the problem. It means they believe she offers them something. That's harder to fight than blades."

His silence stretched.

Eirian broke it with a sly smile. "So we simplify it." She kissed his neck, then his cheek, then pressed her lips to his.

He smirked against her mouth, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. "Go on."

"We have the fleet commanders side with us," she murmured. "Simple. Expected. It's the kind of move Civen would see coming. But—we let some of our men drift her way."

It took him a moment. Then his eyes lit up. "You mean… act desperate. And all the while…" He leaned forward, voice low and sharp. "They're the Trojan horse."

"Exactly."

Their hands met in a crisp high-five. It wasn't elegant, but these kinds of plans often worked better than the clean ones. Nothing in this world was foolproof.

A knock came at the door.

"Everyone is ready, Commanders," Dienari's voice called, calm but carrying weight.

Eirian and Caelus exchanged a look. A long inhale, a long exhale.

"Showtime," Caelus chuckled, sliding off the bed.

They dressed quickly, armor sliding over sweat and skin, with a quick refresh and weapons at their hips they walked out into the hall. Dienari gave them a brief rundown as they followed him down the corridor.

At the towering doors to the main hall, they paused.

"Ladies first," Caelus said with mock gallantry.

Eirian smirked. "How kind of you, Sir Caelus."

Dienari swung the doors wide. Together, they stepped into the light of the hall, ready to carve their legend against the impending folklore.

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