Brown hair lazily drifted along the arctic wind currents coming from the ice elemental in the sanctum's center. The rushing movement of air bounced around the ritual center, complementing the crackle of ice and the falling of snow.

Iona had Timber use his fur to shield Lulu from the worst of the cold, as a Day Flutter Owl, Lulu's vulnerability to cold was unusually high. The Beastmaster invoked her Nature Elementalization, creating a wind barrier zone in front of her two companions.

As for herself, she willingly stayed in the face of that passive outburst during the ascension process. The chamber—except for the mural above and a small zone that encompassed her two companions—became akin to a glacier. Iona envied Sooty's ability to appear perfectly fine while perched near the source of it all. The crow closed its eyes, stuck in connection with her Reaver.

Bits of frost caked onto Iona's pale skin before she scrubbed it away with her own nature element. As the younger Defier lost any ability to conceal the natural pressure he emitted, Iona embraced the sensation only five others in this city emitted.

"You go to a gantlet dungeon, and return as an elemental human. What did you experience in there?" The fact Luke achieved a feat worthy of the second tier came a tenth as surprising. Second tier individuals ranged in the thousands or tens of thousands if you included the support classes. An evolved member of the four races? This man came back as the sixth in Sylen.

Every other one was—at the minimum—a decade older than him. Yes, including Annika, not that Iona would let that slip, as a shared sore point. She was thankful the mask Annika, Tanniv, and Eldacar designed together completely concealed the aura higher life rating beings emitted. It inadvertently shielded Luke when using his Rune identity for some god-forsaken reason.

She swore every time that man became Rune, he ruined or pissed off some organization or another. The sheer amount of people after Luke's head dizzied her. Infuriatingly, Luke seemed less worried about it than she was. She understood him less by the day. And in some ways, she got the feeling the same applied to himself.

So she'd have him join her Tower Team. After the past incidents, she never invited those without a companion to her team. She ran the smallest of the high ranked Tower Teams, stuck at fourth—entirely her own fault—the lack of numbers was absolutely the only real thing holding back the team. Three main members, with two others in reserve, called upon when needed or when they requested to join an expedition.

Two beastmasters, including herself, two hunters, the class, not the general name, and one warlord. If Luke ended up joining her team, she planned to introduce him as a variant spell sword, then wave off things that didn't line up as Defier shenanigans. A new event cut away her current planning. Threads of blood, rot, and gray runes rose to the surface around Luke.

He's been in the Soul Realm far longer than usual. The process is near effortless for most.

Black impurities seeped out from the Reaver at a regular rate. Iona had heard the majority of transfers from the last round came from a world without a hint of magic or ether. An idea she couldn't fathom very well. A common side effect of this meant those inhabitants were loaded with impurities that could only be expelled during the ascensions, with it taking three to completely purify their vessel in both body and spirit.

Timber grunted, sparking thunder around Lulu every so often to help keep her warm. His snout sniffed up toward the black ice expelling from Luke's pores. Sooty shed black feathers slick with a similar substance.

By the Founding Four, does it smell horrible. Iona thought. She used some of her own nature element with the ice emitted by Luke to smother the source, returning it to the earth.

With not much else to do until Luke finished his ritual process, Iona sat using the balls of her feet. She glanced at Lulu. "You can leave if it's too cold, you stubborn owl."

Lulu hooted in defiance, the link between the two sent intent well enough. Stay for feather friend.

Shrugging her shoulders, Iona knew better than to try and force her companions to do something against their wishes. They usually listened to her anyway, so let Lulu have her independence. Timber acted right at home within the icy landscape, snow piled on his fur.

Taking out some letters, Iona let the arctic gales shred them to pieces. All letters and requests from the suitors. A fraction of the most pompous demanded to know her 'relationship' with the novice Defier. What else could it be? They were members of the same sub-organization, tight-knit, as it would be when people shared a similar burden. Friends even.

Hopeless, and most spineless too. If they could listen to their big head as often as they think with their… Iona rubbed her temples to soothe them.

To add insult to injury, the majority of the pursuers openly distained defending the city during the Tide. Preferring to retreat to either the five metropolis cities deeper within the Duchy or ancestral family grounds. Some no doubt would end up conscripted against their will, others able to escape due to their status. A measly fraction stayed as decreed. The ones with no combat class or suitably leveled fighting profession got a pass. From the Duchy. Not from Iona.

The more sly ones, aware of the cyclical nature of the Tides, purposely neglected leveling up their combat professions. Those with a class at level ten or above had to stay. For a profession, however, this level was twenty-five instead. A loophole the less scrupulous graciously used. Once signs of the Tide started to appear about three months ago, an unnatural number of combat professions stopped leveling entirely.

She saw the cold logic, rushing for progress would lead to a dramatic increase in the chance of death. What those who skirted their duty failed to account for, was if Sylen failed due to the burden of the many crushing the competence of the few, did they think the horde they held back until then would stop?

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Any who bothered to review the records of past Tides would know anytime Sylen became overrun, hundreds of thousands to millions in the safe interior became consumed not so long after, depending on the severity of that particular Tide. The other cities, towns, and other settlements in the Ducal Plains received a portion of the Tide. This portion either slipped past the Silver-Black Towers barrier, Sylen's defense, the Western Ridge's geographic deterrence, or was sent through a limited amount of ripped open spatial ports by the Diplomats or Apostles. Even in the worst case, this amounted to roughly a third of what originally composed the Tide.

Among that portion, the ducal capital, Aelon, bore the worst of that burden. The four races were a paradox in a sense. Its most valiant struck fear into even the Throned. Its average member…acted like an animal that refused to drink water or see the grass all around them, laughable.

As a consequence, the three kingdoms were treated like livestock and a food source to any of the god creatures when they bothered to stop infighting. When that happened, the five Throned often sent a Tide to the 'pantries'. Iona shook her head to end the negative thoughts. Each Defier dwelled on that reality at one time or another, and it rarely helped anything.

She acknowledged that attempting to change the behavior of the average person was a confounding endeavor. One that required months in return for minimal results. Rather than ability, the vein of the issue lay further within, beliefs, efforts, willingness to risk, and yes, a hint of luck. Most preferred to live an ignoble existence instead.

The companionship of the arctic gales stopped. Iona ceased shredding thinly veiled lust-ridden letters, instead doing it the old-fashioned way—burning them. While doing so, she glanced up to Luke, snow deep in his second ascension process. When Iona initially tested the human, she thought him another hopeful, and wrote him off at first sight. Although she always had a softer side for fellow companion classes, and Lulu hit it off with Sooty, she assumed, like the previous few hundred applicants between him and Aruna, that he'd fail.

Instead, he went on to further develop his technique from Adept to Expert in the middle of the standard test against the Doppelganger. In the short period since then, his growth sped up; she'd seen nothing like it before. Even his companion benefited from the rapid ascension. An ancient aura settled in the chamber, and the last of the impurities spilled out of Luke. She crinkled her nose, smothering the substance with her nature element once more. The Reaver's snowfall would eventually do it for Iona, but she preferred not to wait.

Snow crunched as Iona stepped over the snow and ice, standing beside Timber, resting her hand on the crown of his head softly. The bear nuzzled into it. Alongside that ancient aura—a typical occurrence once someone came to the end of the ritual, rising as a tier 2—a suffocating Concept burst out for a blink, melding into the snow, turning it deep gold. Then, as quick as it came, it left. Iona gasped, sweat beading in spite of the blisteringly low temperatures, that only now began to rise again.

When she saw Luke open his eyes, Iona noticed gold rimmed the usual icy blue, fading away. She grinned widely. "Welcome back, from novice Defier, to apprentice, just like Aruna. That'll light a fire under her prideful ass."

Soul-deep pain crept at every inch of Luke's mind and body.

On the bright side, unlike the sharp pain from using double Essence Feedback and Rising West simultaneously, this acted like a long, dull, drawn-out pain. Like someone going back to the gym again after a month's break, a nearly pleasant sensation. Iona greeted him, and Sooty hopped around the snow.

Noticing Lulu ruffling herself to stall the cold, Luke melted away the ice and snow. Residual cold remained in the air. He figured a tier 3 companion could handle that regardless of their natural weaknesses. Something felt off about his eyes, but by the time he noticed the sensation, it quickly dissipated. Hopping along, Sooty flapped then flew around the mural's edges above, adapting to the new limits. Lulu joined in shortly thereafter. Whispering Tome floated along at its own pace.

He stood up a little too quickly, causing a cascade of joint pops, bone cracks, and…ice shattering? Turns out evolving to an ice elemental caused unique responses. He thought to check the log lines that Interface insisted on, but put it off for a bit longer. It's not like they'd go away. Still, he could bring up the one that asked him to tap on it for more information.

Dastardly Interface managed a sly trick with that one. Iona snapped her fingers inches away from the Reaver's face.

"Hello? Anyone in there? I've been speaking to you for the past minute."

"Have you?" Luke said.

"Yeah, she said something about the girl who always calls you little brother, and the Tower closing shop until the Tide is over? The rest sped by my crystal," Xera said.

"There's about the right of it. A teensy bit of scolding too, but we can nary include that detail. Elf lassie can bring it back up, if it strikes her fancy," Wayfinder added.

Drawing back her hair in a knot, Iona said, "Unimportant, arguments won't get through anyway."

"Aye, lad's head is harder than a Whirltail Turtle's chest scales. Me casing sides remember the flail days. Ain't a word I said worked to change the buggers' mind."

Unapologetic, Luke brushed past the shimmering discontent. "Calista didn't offer much a choice. She came upon at likely the worst moment, and with that flaming sack of shit, Chander. Came this close to taking out his eye. Spoiled brat."

"Say you're a tad spoiled yourself, frosty." Wayfinder settled his needle to point at Luke's neck. "Me tingling magnetic senses tell me if you'd not be sending a wave of fury at the Pyre lass and her yapping younger brother, they'd think you a masked oddity and stay their hand that night."

Snatching his neck, Luke had no comeback to that, although Calista mentioned she recognized Rune and knew about him murdering two gangs underneath the Red Gorrids. Groups used by the Pyrites to complete unsavory tasks for them. There remained a chance she would've stopped him anyway, after some long, drawn-out argument complete with the usual sophistry. That seemed to be the way things went around Luke anyway, just his luck.

Grasping the atmosphere, Iona asked, "By the time I found out about your clash, it already went beyond the point of no return. The rage was palpable all the way from the docks. You didn't seem half as mad when Chander put a bounty on your head. Did you learn something?"

Luke looked away for a second; his eyes landed on the mural piece depicting Ceridia's history yet again. Unable to meet Iona's eyes, he said, "Let's say I'm positive the Pyrites are heavily involved in my dad's disappearance."

He omitted the details purposely, while the Reaver trusted the Defiers, better safe than sorry, especially with secrets pertaining to Wayfinder's capabilities. The Numbered aroused the interest of many, a consequence of their usability to anyone. No level requirement. Class requirement. Tier requirement. Just a pulse requirement. And since Wayfinder was Soul Bound to him, if someone equal to Musai got a wild hair up their ass and decided to kill him for Wayfinder, he'd be shit out of luck. At least the number of beings able to make that sort of scenario become reality shrank by the day.

Realization dawned on Iona. "The border clashes against the Midlands took my parents. But I can't imagine discovering other people being responsible for taking them away." She whistled to Lulu, getting the owl to land on an extended elbow. "As a conflict of interest, I can't directly help you. None of us eight can. When you're here, we can keep them out, and none of our number currently approve of the Pyrites or the politics outside the Tower. A needless complication to the enormous task of keeping the Tower cleaned out often enough to prevent the tier 4 overlord creature from spawning."

Spinning around, the elf woman paced away. Bits of green nature followed her steps. Timber lumbered after her, and Lulu wished Sooty goodbye with an oddly calm screech. Sooty rattled in return. Exiting the chamber, Iona left some final words. "You are your own man, Luke. So take this with a grain of consideration, spend some time in the realm with me, if we're lucky, some of those skills could rank up to tier 2 just before the Tide comes to drown us all. There's roughly two days left now if we're lucky. Outside the walls, you should see obvious signs."

Grimacing, Luke said, "There's a short list of things I need to do. Once they're cleared up, I'll take you on your offer, Iona."

The elf's ears perked up, turning the corner back up the stairs, on to whatever business she had next.

Deciding to lighten the mood, Luke poked at Sooty in the wing, "Get any sweet upgrades I need to know about Sooty?"

Turning her head, Sooty answered with a confident caw.

"Good to hear. Now, time I get through the important log messages. Damn Interface keeps sending alert signals my way."

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