Liliana barely heard the words as they left her lips. "Emeria, my poor sister… Alistair wasn't lying."

That didn't make sense.

Alistair always lied. Always twisted the truth. That's what she had thought, what she had known. He was just saying it to get under her skin. That's what he did. That's all it was.

But it wasn't.

It wasn't.

Emeria was dead.

Liliana's mind stalled, grasping for something, anything, to hold onto, something that made this feel less real, less permanent. But it was like trying to stop an avalanche with her bare hands. The weight of it crashed down on her, heavy, suffocating.

She had been gone for years. Too many years. But that had never mattered, because Emeria was still supposed to be here. Somewhere. Alive. She never considered that anything could have happened to her, not even despite what happened to her other sisters. She'd always simply expected Emeria to be there when she came back.

Not just a name in someone else's memories. Not just… gone.

The world around her—the temple, Kale, Rika, Serassa's past bleeding into the present—felt like a backdrop she was barely standing in.

How? When? How long had it been?

Her mother's voice echoed in her mind.

"You are all we have left."

Liliana had heard it. Had barely even reacted to it. She had assumed her mother was talking about the others. The sisters who had died long before. She had just moved forward, never questioning, never stopping long enough to realize what it meant.

She hadn't even thought about Emeria.

Hadn't even considered that she could be gone too.

But now she understood.

Now she saw the way her mother's voice had cracked when she said it. The way her father had gone to pray. The way they had looked at her—not just with relief, but with grief.

Because all of them were gone.

And she was the only one left.

She had spent years fighting, surviving, walking through blood and fire while Emeria had already been gone.

And she hadn't known.

She had thought she still had time.

She had thought—

Emeria's face flickered in her mind.

Not as a warrior, not as someone unshakable or unyielding—but as the little sister who had always believed in people, even when she shouldn't have.

She had been kind. Not just in the way that made people like her, but in the way that made people better. She had always found the good in others, even when they gave her no reason to.

Liliana could still remember the way Emeria used to laugh at things no one else found funny, how she always seemed to know when someone needed reassurance, even when they didn't ask for it.

Kale was like that.

Not in the same way. Not exactly.

But he had that same steady kindness, the same way of caring without demanding anything back. The same way of standing by someone, even when they didn't deserve it.

Maybe that was why she had let Kale get close. Maybe that was why, despite everything, she trusted him when she trusted so few.

Because, in some small way, he reminded her of Emeria.

And Emeria was gone.

Her mind blanked, like she had been struck across the head, like some part of her refused to process the truth fully.

But she could not deny what she knew now. Serassa's memories. Alistair's taunt. Emeria was dead, and she had died without Liliana even knowing.

She forced herself to speak, to push past the hollowed-out space in her chest.

"What was her role in all this?"

Kale placed a hand on Liliana's arm, his touch steady but light. "I'm sorry, Liliana."

There was no pity in his voice, just understanding.

Rika stepped closer, her voice softer than usual. "I know nothing I say will make this easier… but you're not alone."

Liliana exhaled, slow and uneven. Emeria was dead. That truth sat heavy in her chest, immovable. But it wasn't just her truth. It wasn't just a loss from the past.

Somehow, her sister had been caught up in all of this.

Kale spoke again. "Emeria wasn't just another casualty. She was part of this. Somehow, she got tangled up in everything we're facing now."

His words settled like a second blow, pressing the weight of the present against the grief of the past.

Liliana lifted her head, forced herself to breathe. It wasn't just about losing Emeria anymore. It was about understanding why.

Rika shifted. "Serassa sounded like she had some sort of mission going on that no one knew about. She wasn't just protecting Nyridia, she was hiding something. And she was clearly worried about… whoever she was talking to."

Liliana nodded. "It sounded like she was wrestling with more than just Lifedrinker's curse. Whoever she was talking to, they must've been in on this with her, possibly orchestrating it."

Kale glanced at Lifedrinker. "So you knew we were coming, didn't you?".

Lifedrinker stayed silent, its usual venomous hum subdued as if biding its time.

Liliana looked at the blade as well. "If Serassa was right about this 'path' leading somewhere darker, then…" She paused, meeting Kale's eyes. "We need to find out if there are others like Serassa, others who know more than they've let on."

Rika leaned against a nearby pillar. "We're piecing it together, but it feels like every answer gives us more questions. Why was your sister pulled into this in the first place? And if Serassa was so powerful, why didn't she destroy Lifedrinker? It sounded like she was trying but couldn't."

"Maybe she was trying to contain it," Liliana said. "And maybe she knew she wouldn't be able to forever. This burden… it seems like it was passed down. And now it's ours to bear."

Kale nodded. "Whatever Serassa couldn't finish, we will. One way or another. I think the next step is clear: We need to find the general."

Stolen novel; please report.

"Agreed," Liliana said. "The Archivist's information was specific enough. If she's really stationed west of the city, we'll have a lead to follow."

Rika started walking toward the door. "Then let's not waste any time. The sooner we find her, the sooner we'll have some real backup against whatever else is out there."

"And with any luck, we'll finally get some answers that don't lead to more questions," Kale said.

***

They rode westward on the backs of their borhounds, the creatures' powerful strides eating up the trail beneath them.

"You know," Rika started, "it feels like instead of getting closer to stopping Xeroth, we're just getting further away. Every step forward seems to bring ten more questions with it."

Kale gave a small, humorless laugh. "Feels like we're piecing together a story that's been purposely left in shreds."

Liliana nodded thoughtfully. "It's like pulling at a web. Every thread we unravel just seems to tangle the rest. But maybe we're closer than it feels. Every piece of the puzzle we uncover is something Xeroth didn't expect us to have. That has to mean we're making progress."

"Sure," Rika said. "I'll keep telling myself that. But I'm ready for the part where we stop chasing threads and actually start getting some damn answers."

Kale tightened his grip on the reins, eyes narrowing in determination. "Maybe the general has the pieces we're missing. If she's in hiding, she'll probably know things we don't."

***

The keep loomed before them, a rugged fortress of stone and iron that seemed to sink into the rough, forested landscape around it. Vines and moss crept up its walls, covering the stones in a combination of green and gray, while banners, tattered and faded with time, hung from the battlements, each bearing the emblem of a long-forgotten era.

The group dismounted from their borhounds, the loyal animals huffing and shaking off the dust from the road. Kale led the way up to the gate, the others following close behind.

As the heavy gates opened, a group of armored warriors emerged, their expressions hard and calculating as they took in the newcomers. Their armor, like the keep itself, bore the scars of war—a patchwork of different campaigns, yet it was that very patchwork that gave them a unified look.

One warrior stepped forward, his muscular frame marked by years of battle. His armor, though worn from use, was polished and well-kept. The spear in his hand seemed like an extension of himself, held with the confidence of someone who had wielded it a thousand times. His piercing eyes swept over them, sharp and assessing, while his dark hair and neatly trimmed beard gave him an air of discipline and authority.

"Follow me," he said. "The General's expecting you."

Rika sniffed the air, her brow furrowing. "Something smells really good in here."

She sniffed again, her eyes widening. "Seriously, what is that? It's like… cherries and… something else."

Kale looked around. "Yeah, you're right. Definitely not the usual fortress smell."

"I think I smell almond in there too, and some jasmine." Rika said.

Their guide, still walking ahead of them, gave a small, amused smile. "You were expecting something different? Blood and rust, maybe?"

"Guess it's not what you'd expect from a place like this. Didn't peg battle-hardened warriors as the 'scented candle' types." Rika said.

"When you're always a step from death, might as well leave a good-looking, and good-smelling corpse," the warrior replied.

"So that's you we're smelling? You got a bottle of perfume stashed under that armor?" Rika asked.

The man laughed. "A warrior does not neglect himself."

"You hear that?" Liliana asked, turning to Kale. "I think he could teach you a few things."

"Are you saying I smell bad?" Kale asked.

"I'm not saying you smell good," Liliana replied.

The man looked back, amused. "A warrior's care extends beyond just his blade. Discipline in all things."

Rika snickered. "Well, Kaley, maybe you should take a few notes. Blood and battle… and a dash of something that doesn't smell like wet leather. "

Kale threw up his hands. "Oh, I'm sorry, Rika. Didn't realize you were not just a master tactician, but also the expert on battlefield fragrances. Maybe next time I'll spritz myself with 'Essence of Hammer Sweat,' so I can smell like you."

Rika crossed her arms, glaring at him. "Excuse me, I don't sweat. Those are the tears of my enemies."

Kale grinned, leaning into her slightly. "Oh, my mistake. 'Essence of Crybaby Sadness' it is, then."

Rika jabbed a finger at his chest, mock glare in her eyes. "Damn right, and it's priceless. You couldn't afford it."

"Priceless, huh? Must be why no one's buying it."

Rika's mouth fell open. "How dare you!"

Kale grinned, leaning back just enough to stay out of range. "What can I say? Some things just sell themselves… and some don't."

"You keep this up, and I'll show you exactly how I extract my Essence of Crybaby Sadness."

Kale raised his hands, feigning a shaky surrender. "Oh, I'm trembling already."

Liliana caught Kale's eye, a small, appreciative smile playing on her lips before she looked away. They followed their guide through the winding stone corridors until they finally reached a large, reinforced door.

The warrior stopped and gave a nod toward the door. "The General awaits."

He pushed the door open, revealing a spacious, dimly lit hall. At its center stood a woman clad in battle-worn armor, pieces chipped and scarred, yet carrying an undeniable air of authority. Her presence was commanding, her gaze sharp and assessing as it landed on each of them in turn. A tattoo curled around her left eye, and a thin scar traced down her cheek, splitting her lips in a line that gave her expression a hardened edge.

He felt a flicker of discomfort as she studied him, not because she appeared hostile, but because her look was piercing. It wasn't judgmental—it was practical, deliberate, as if she were piecing together everything she needed to know about him in a single glance. He didn't think she was cruel, but he could tell she was capable of it if the situation called for it. Kale straightened slightly, unsure if it was a conscious decision or a reflex, but he felt the need to meet her eyes head-on, even if they made him feel like an open book.

There was something strangely grounding about her, like she wasn't trying to be intimidating but didn't need to try. Kale wondered what her story was, and if he really wanted to know.

"Took you long enough," she said bluntly. "I was starting to wonder if you'd gotten yourselves killed on the way."

"You haven't exactly been advertising your location," Kale said. "With Serassa gone, we had no leads, so we had to track down someone… resourceful, to find you."

The General's expression shifted, a flash of something almost vulnerable in her hardened eyes. "Serassa? Gone? How?"

"It was Alistair Bloodthorn, with some encouragement from Xeroth. We found Serassa in the temple. She held out as long as she could, but in the end, Lifedrinker had claimed her. There was nothing we could do."

The General's attention shifted to Kale's blades. "So you say Alistair did it, yet somehow, you're the one who holds the blade that took her life. Explain that."

Liliana stepped in. "Yes. We took it from Alistair. He, and House Bloodthorn, are no more."

The General gave them a measured look, assessing, her eyes lingering on each of them before she finally spoke. "I see, so you're at least somewhat capable. With your late awakening, I admit I had my doubts…"

She trailed off for a moment, as if weighing her next words. "I am Velanna, and this is Sadek, the deadliest spear under my command." She gestured to the man who had guided them. He gave them a single, steady nod. "And you," she continued, "what are your names?"

Kale straightened. "I'm Kale."

"Liliana."

"Rika," she added with a grin.

"Who else have you seen?" Velanna asked.

"Just Brakkan and Rothgar," Kale replied.

"Shit. That leaves us with Zairos, Morrana, Edris, and Thessa. Of those four, I only know where Thessa is… and she won't be easy to reach. Her keep lies beneath Azura's Deep, far out into The Serpentine Expanse. Let's just say she doesn't welcome many visitors, at least not the kind that can't breathe underwater."

Kale's brow furrowed at the mention of Azura's Deep. The name itself felt ominous, even without knowing anything about it. A keep beneath the water? The idea was bizarre, almost surreal. Who was Thessa, to live in such a place? Someone powerful, no doubt, but what kind of person chose to isolate themselves beneath the waves, in the depths of a place called The Serpentine Expanse?

And then there was the matter of breathing underwater. He didn't know what lay ahead, but the idea of sinking into a vast, alien world where he couldn't even take a breath... it left him uneasy. I definitely can't breathe underwater, he thought. How the hell are we going to get to Thessa?

Velanna spread out a well-worn map of the world across the table. On it each temple location seemed to be marked with symbols he did not understand. She scanned it quickly. "If Xeroth's reach has already spread this far, we'll have to split up. Sorry we won't have time to get to know each other."

She pointed out the marked locations. "I'll start with Thessa, then move on to Attea. From there, I'll try to locate Morrana. For you three, Xandria and Eldruin will be your best starting points. The guardians there keep tabs on our own, and they'll be able to guide you to Zairos and Edris. Xandria is closest, so I suggest you go there f—"

Velanna's words were cut off as the wall behind her exploded inward with a deafening blast, sending chunks of stone and dust flying in every direction. Kale felt himself hurled backward, hitting the ground hard as a wave of rubble scattered over him, thick clouds of dust choked the air and obscured his vision.

As the dust settled, a large figure loomed in the gap where the wall had once stood, framed by the splintered wreckage. Carrion Voss. His massive form dominated the opening, shoulders hunched and his scarred head cocked, hollow eyes scanning the room. He took a slow, deliberate step forward.

"You look surprised," he said.

Kale staggered to his feet, his vision clearing just enough to meet Voss's eyes. Eyes that held no thrill, no hesitation, only the finality of something unstoppable. This wasn't a battle, it was the end. Velanna lay face down on the table, unmoving. Rika had barely risen, her warhammers lost somewhere in the debris, and Liliana, blood streaking her face, narrowed her eyes, fury and fear flashing in equal measure.

Carrion Voss took another step, his presence filling the room, and in that moment, it was as if every other noise, the distant echoes, the shifting rubble, had been sucked away, leaving only his cold, hollow words:

"This time, no one escapes."

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