Drawing a divination and emotive formation in the air, Aren cast a spell he hated on himself. The feedback was immediate, an encyclopedic description of his mental state provided to him to a disturbing level of detail.

  Current state: overloaded numbness, result of intense emotions drying down. Remnant intense sadness of traumatic origin, constant low anger towards monsters due to recollection of multiple high intensity events. Mild irritation, due to the loss of control over one's own state of mind and intrusion of the spell. Subtle fluctuations in mental energy, detected as brief microcycles of anxiety and fatigue.

  Deeper analysis: hope and worry over new and fragile friendship. Persistent traces of stress regarding long term plans, amplified by current emotional instability. Self-reinforcing loop of regret and self-reminding of past failures observed. Unidentifiable patterns detected from unquantifiable amounts of alien memories and unprocessed trauma. Minor cognitive dissonance present, inability to fully integrate emotional data with rational assessment.

  The spell provided all the information directly into his mind at once, but he still had to process it normally. Aren gritted his teeth at the deeper analysis. He did not feel stressed, it was his responsibility to be better and plan for the future. The mention of new friendship was unexpected, but he would admit it was accurate.

  Then he paused. Alien memories? That was new. He had not used the spell in a long while, but could it be related to his viewing spell? All the memories were filtered through his magic, but had some fragments remained, embedded in his mind? Was this the result of the latest backlash?

  Before this, he had scanned his mind for anything that could have affected his emotional state, magic, holy power, anything at all. He had even ensured that no drugs or unknown substances had entered his system. Nothing had explained it. This discovery, however, was different. He would need to analyze it later.

  Now, he had more pressing issues at hand. Pressing was not the right word, but it had been some time since he had his breakdown, and the sun had set a while ago, yet Crina was still hovering over him like an overprotective mother. He might have called it cute, had she been subjecting someone else to it.

  “Do you want some more hot tea with syrup?” Crina asked, trying to sound reassuring.

  “I’m okay now, thank you,” Aren said carefully. “The magic I just used is meant for analyzing one’s mental state. I’m a little wrung out, but otherwise there are no other issues.”

  Then he added, “I’m sure the children would welcome it.”

  Crina sat down. “The siblings are both asleep. Priestess Alina took good care of them.”

  “Alina?” Aren asked, unfamiliar with the name.

  “One of the priests that followed Mister Louis,” Crina explained, finally sitting down next to him.

  After a moment of silence, she shifted her weight awkwardly. “You are amazing. You saved both of those children. We are still a day away from that village, yet you were able to do all that.”

  “Yet, once again, I was too late,” Aren huffed under his breath and grimaced. “I’m used to this, truly. At this point, normally I’m just numb for a day or two. I think it may be a side effect of the magic I have been using. It could have made me more… emotional.”

  “That’s a horrible thing to get used to…” Crina said, touching his shoulder.

  “No less horrible than having assassins after you for trying to make a difference,” Aren smiled weakly. “The world is what it is. Only through effort and diligence can we make it better.”

  Crina looked at him in silence for a moment, her eyes conflicted, then shifted to stare at nothing. “You said your magic affected you?”

  “I have this magic that lets me view memories of the past,” Aren said, quickly explaining what he had discovered. “I think that while the magic flows through me, it’s possible that the world consciousness may have left something in me. While it doesn’t seem to affect me normally, it’s the only thing that’s different about me.”

  “Is that dangerous?” Crina asked, her eyes shifting with worry.

  “I don’t think so, at least not at this stage. I will stop using that magic and try to isolate the fragments and find out what they are, then decide what to do with them,” Aren sighed. “I will need to develop some new spell for it, but it shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “I wish there was something I could do to help,” the young woman said, her voice powerless.

  “You have enough of your own problems and goals,” Aren smiled at her. “This is not even a setback in the long term, and the nice thing about magic is that no matter what I discover, once it’s discovered, it will prove useful later, maybe to me or someone else.”

  “That’s positive.” Crina reached for a set of cards she had gotten from the last city they visited. “Want to play?”

  “Sure,” Aren nodded. It was late, but it wasn’t too late. Turning to her, he noticed the wrinkled, slightly stained part of her toga. “I should clean that…”

  Then he realized that he had no idea how to wash clothes without magic. “Although without my wand, I have no clue how.”

  “How do you clean your clothes then?” Marie suddenly asked, breaking the silence she had kept in the corner of the tent.

  “I have a lot of spare clothes in my storage,” Aren admitted. “Although, I may run out in a few weeks.”

  Crina raised an eyebrow. “If you want, I can help you out when we are in the next city.”

  “That’s not exactly what the Luminous One should do,” Marie warned.

  “It’s not like we will be doing it in public, and even then, what’s wrong with teaching an adult friend how to wash his clothes?” Crina argued.

  “Just keep it private,” Marie sighed.

  “So what do you say?” Crina asked again.

  “At this point, why not?” Aren chuckled and picked up the cards Crina dealt. The shuffling itself betrayed far more practice than she let on.

  Aren came to the conclusion that his parents had spoiled him as he tore a hole in one of his shirts. Maybe he should have helped with household chores instead of practicing magic all the time or occasionally causing trouble with Thomas.

  “Don’t press so hard against the washboard. You wear down the fabric that way,” Crina told him. “Use a bit more herbal ash for the stains.”

  They were in a camp just outside the city boundaries. They had fulfilled their duties and refilled their supplies. Crina kept her promise and decided that now was a good time to teach him how to take care of his clothes.

  “Are you worried about people’s reactions today?” Crina asked suddenly.

  “It was a little intense, but it was okay once Marie explained everything to the priests,” Aren said.

  So far, his first southern city had not been a bad experience, just more intense. The number of surprised looks turning to pure hostility upon seeing his band was beyond his ability to count, even he could not keep track of thousands of people all at once. The prayers had also been longer, and the people more reverent.

  “To think they would try to bar my sunbearer from entering the temple,” Crina said, trying to maintain a neutral tone.

  “Well, they thought I was just some mage who snuck into the procession. I enjoy that they think I have the abilities to sneak by an exemplar without using any mana,” Aren tried to joke.

  “A man of many talents,” Crina smiled.

  “Now I can add washing clothes to the list,” Aren said, wringing out the water and hanging them.

  “You will have to work a little on that still,” Crina said, pointing out a small tear.

  “I guess I’m a little unfamiliar with my newfound strength,” Aren said, slightly bashfully.

  “That happens to more clumsy warriors in the early stages of tonic strengthening,” Marie said.

  Aren didn’t get a chance to respond to the quip, as just then he heard a voice from outside the tent. Turning his head, he saw the head of the guard stationed outside as he lifted the entrance veil.

  “Honored Exemplar,” the guard stated dutifully. “Priestess Alina and her two charges wish to speak with Sunbearer Ren.”

  Aren raised an eyebrow but stood up from his washboard. “We are twenty percent through my pile, with a few things that require repair. I guess this is a good stopping point for today.”

  Marie nodded to him, then informed the guard that they would step out soon. When they did, the two children and the priestess instantly knelt before Marie and Crina.

  “You can stand up,” Crina said. “Should we leave the four of you alone?”

  The blond priestess straightened and glanced at the two children behind her. The older sister stepped forward cautiously, still tense. Her brother lingered behind her, eyes wide as he studied Aren. From the way they looked, clean and well-kept now, he could tell they were siblings. Their bright blue eyes matched perfectly.

  “Th-thank… you…” the girl’s voice trembled, filled with nervousness at the mage before her. She drew in a shaky breath, nearly stumbling over the words again as she bowed low. “Thank you… for saving us, Sunbearer.”

  “We also deeply thank the Luminous One and the Holy Exemplar for taking care of us,” she added.

  Her brother repeated the words quietly, barely lifting his gaze.

  Aren knelt down to meet the girl’s eyes, keeping his tone calm. “I’m glad you’re both safe,” he said. “What are your names?”

  “Our names are… Kaela and Iven,” she whispered officially, still clearly wary.

  “You did very well protecting your brother, Kaela,” Aren said. “I could see how exhausted both of you were. You ran so far… and you didn’t give up. That courage made all the difference.” He hesitated for a moment, letting the words sink in without mentioning what had been lost.

  “Take care of each other at the temple,” he finished, standing.

  Suddenly the boy spoke. “Why are you a mage?”

  Aren halted. That was a weird question, and he had to process it for a moment. Then he saw something he knew in the boy’s eyes, a boiling anger and desire for power.

  He nodded to the boy. “It’s what I was born good at. There are many kinds of power in the world. A bandit and a holy warrior are very different, but what truly separates them is their code, their intent, and their morality. The same is true for mages. I chose to study magic to help people.”

  After this, the priestess took the siblings away toward the city, leaving the original trio alone.

  “So I know they will be joining the temple, but what does that mean in practice?” Aren asked.

  “They will receive some schooling depending on their needs and wants, will be responsible for basic chores, and join the daily prayers,” Marie surmised. “When they turn sixteen, they will receive the money from the chest you recovered. If any other survivors appear, they will also receive part of what was found. The boy has already shown interest in joining the temple guard.”

  “I could see that in his eyes,” Aren said, hoping the kid would be fine.

  “The governor has already sent a force to take care of the village and prepare a proper pyre,” Crina said. “They will have a chance to say goodbye then.”

  Aren’s attention then shifted to a person approaching from the side with youthful energy. The man paid respect to the two women before turning to the mage.

  “Did my book prove useful?” Aren asked Donnavan.

  “It proved dry reading, and there were inconsistencies in your notes, but it did highlight some issues I have been facing,” Donnavan answered, handing the book back to Aren.

  Aren raised an eyebrow but took the book, examining the officer. His black hair had lost its gray streaks and was now pure black. The slight wrinkles had disappeared from his face, yet the warrior’s stoic, hard gaze remained as his blue eyes shone with newfound force. He also carried himself with more confidence as he stood.

  Opening the book, Aren found his notes circled in several places, with new text added that proposed alternative explanations. Upon reading them, they actually made more sense. Aren shrugged, he had never claimed to be an expert on the body. His expertise lay in energy and its manipulation.

  “Congratulations, Donnavan,” Marie said simply. “Your results look excellent. It seems my words were ill-advised.”

  “That’s not true. It was a fact that I was aiming for far too detailed integration,” Donnavan said. “I managed to use the concepts from the book the Sunbearer granted me, which allowed for smaller changes to propagate on their own. It took a bit longer, but that was not an issue.”

  “That’s a radiant insight,” Marie said, looking at Aren.

  “I don’t believe it’s some secret. It’s just buried deeply in a freely available book sold in Vo’Teol,” Aren shrugged. “Few have the talent to use it properly, too. I’m all for sharing knowledge if it makes the world safer.”

  “Congratulations, Donnavan,” Crina said happily. “We will need to celebrate.”

  “Thank you, Luminous One,” Donnavan said with a satisfied smile. “Although I fear this is not a good time for celebration. The thought that I can protect you better is enough for me.”

  “Then we have all the more reason for all of us to get safely to our destination,” Crina said. “I will pray for that even more.”

  Marie nodded, “I’m sure the Sun will reward our efforts.”

  The next few cities were somehow better, in that no one accosted him anymore. Rita, investigating each city before their arrival, informed the local priesthood that the Luminous One would be accompanied by a mage. It did not guarantee a warm welcome, but at least it helped the visits progress smoothly.

  That let him notice other differences from the north. The first thing he realized was that the cities were less colorful. The paintings of nature that had adorned the homes were now fully dedicated to the One Sun and holy events. Another difference was that each person bore a symbol of their faith somewhere on their person, whether as embroidery, an accessory, or even a tattoo.

  The assassins continued to remain quiet. Whatever their reason, the procession continued on in a tense mood, but with the organized breaks and more controlled training schedules, the situation was not near a breaking point.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  On the positive side, he had made progress with his situation and was about to perform analysis of the first anomalous memory he discovered in his mind. Performing what amounted to magical surgery on his mind was never something done casually but he was an archmage for a reason.

  A special type of mnemonic formation activated, and using his memory patterns, it highlighted the anomalies for him. Strangely, they were all very close to where his mind vault was organized. Reaching for the first one, he encountered a confused static as he tried to view it. It was no wonder his brain had ignored them, they felt more like noise than actual memories.

  Looking closer, he realized that they were somehow familiar. Focusing on precision, he removed the first memory from his mind. Making sure he did not damage anything, he summoned another formation and placed the memory into it.

  His eyes widened as he scanned the output and realized that the memory was not an actual memory. It was a remembrance of pure resonance. On top of that, it felt very familiar, similar to how he interacted with the world’s memories when he searched for specific spell echoes.

  He sensed one of their scouts returning, entering his wards, but he ignored it for now. It was most likely a simple report that the advance guard had reached the city and were now investigating.

  Focusing, he revealed the resonance he had seen and felt as the mana patterns of chronotope sorcery reacted with his senses. The sorcery was designed to warp an object permanently by shaping the space that contained it, and it was powerful. While he had no direct access to that type of resonance, with a lot of work he would be able to reproduce the spell using wizardry.

  His mouth widened at the implication. Somehow, what he was searching for had embedded itself into his mind on its own. It made no sense, and he now doubted it was responsible for his emotional outburst, but he realized he was sitting on a treasure trove.

  As he finished recording the resonance in front of him, he was about to move to the next one when Kron stepped near his tent. It was the middle of the night, so it must be important. With a slight twinge of regret, he stood up and opened the tent flap before the obsidian-like warrior could.

  “What is happening?” he asked.

  “The advance guard has encountered an issue,” Kron said in a grave tone that felt urgent. “The next city is under siege by worms. We are heading out now to join them as soon as possible.”

  Aren nodded and quickly sidestepped the warrior, speed-walking toward where Marie was issuing orders. He saw Mar’tei to the side, packing things as fast as she could with a worried expression. He used his new scanning spell and sensed the battle currently taking place in the far distance.

  Stopping in front of the exemplar, he asked, “Should I teleport to them?”

  Marie instantly shook her head. “From the scout reports, the situation is bad but not catastrophic. We cannot be sure the assassins won’t use this opportunity to attack while we are split. We need you here to make sure they don’t try anything magical again.”

  Aren bit his lip. “It’s not even the Rain Season yet.”

  “Worms don’t follow the usual rules, but I agree this is unusual. There are no reports of dragon-class, yet they approached a city protected by a core,” Marie said gravely. “Hurry up. We are heading out as soon as we can. You can help with your storage artifact.”

  Lan fought for his life. Sliding under a long, extended claw, with his left blade he pierced through the creature’s joint before quickly rolling to the left as another creature’s jaw threatened to close on his neck. As he got to his feet, a large, long, curved sword slammed into the sand behind his back, cutting through a mutated wild skalith leg that would have slammed into his back.

  Not having time or need to voice thanks to his brother, he moved, sliding on his feet along the sand at the full speed of his prana. Twisting his hips, he cut with both of his swords through a lizard’s neck as he stopped just behind his brother’s back. The muscled warrior pushed away another monster and slammed it into the ground.

  Wild skalith were pack animals, and their nature had not changed due to the draconic mutation. Each time they dealt with one attack, another popped out from their blind spot. They had been pushed right up to the walls of the city, where the alpha of the pack had tried to force its way in. Fighting in the dark did them no favors either. Few of the holy warriors were focused only on keeping as much of the area alight as they could. With his brother behind his back, he now witnessed that just one more strike would crumble the cracked wall.

  The scarlet giant skalith was entangled in a dance of crimson with the High Protector, whose red hair flung wildly as she spun to dodge a claw. Her blade changed size constantly as she batted the creature away with a large flat blade before thinning it and trying to slash through the creature’s neck. Still, it responded with the terrific speed the skalith were known for and avoided the attack before lunging again at the woman.

  Lan glanced away from the focal battle happening to his right and sliced through another creature’s neck as his brother held it in a contest of strength. Then he heard a scream from his left and lunged for a monster scratching and biting at a warrior pinned beneath it. His blade met the creature’s eye, and he heard a swish of air behind him as Wes kicked one of the monsters away, protecting him again.

  Letting the holy warrior get up on his own, the wound already closing with the use of holy energy, Lan looked around the battlefield. There were well over a hundred of the monsters, all of them surrounding the defenders. Archers and crossbowmen peppered the creatures with projectiles, but they left only thin wounds on the monsters’ thick hides.

  The colorful beasts were a terrifying sight as they coordinated their movements, closing in on each group of warriors and tearing their formations apart. Should he break the alarm stick? No, their scout should have reached the main group by now. Still, the situation was dire as the encirclement tightened around him and Wes, along with the recovering holy warrior.

  They had a force of nature of their own that was running around wildly through the monsters. A giant bear-like man, covered in an azure glow, slammed from behind through the formation the lizards were trying to create. He tore apart two of the monsters with sharp claws as his large tusks pierced another. One skalith tried to bite through the thick, glowing fur but was crushed for its effort as the berserker shifted his weight.

  In the blink of an eye, Lan appeared between the stunned beasts, slicing through necks, eyes, clawed feet, and jaws with satisfying ease. His blade glowed with a brilliance he had never achieved before, leaving scorched marks on his enemies as his vision sharpened, gaining both greater detail and an expanded field of view.

  Wes’s muscles swelled as his sword pierced one lizard, then cleaved through two more as they fell lifeless to the ground in pieces. His green aura strengthened his entire body, his bones only lightly whispering in protest. All their training was paying dividends as the battlefield devolved into a chaotic scramble for survival.

  They needed the large skalith to fall. Lan ducked, piercing through a lizard’s jaw straight into its brain, then used the opening to look toward the High Protector. Her situation was dire. The holy warrior assisting her was gravely injured and pouring all her power into keeping herself from bleeding out, while their other fourth-stage warrior struggled to keep monsters from climbing over one another and vaulting the walls.

  Protector Rati batted the large creature away once more, this time cutting deep into the side of its thigh and staggering it. She burned through her lifeforce reserves to sharpen the sword further and swung with lightning-quick precision.

  The skalith tried to dodge and, despite the wound, managed a quick lunge backwards. The blade meant to end its life cut only through its shoulder, and a thick front arm fell to the ground.

  The Protector’s blade continued along its path, too fast to stop, and pierced into the sand, burrowing deep due to its length. Surprised by the sudden resistance when she tried to pull it free, she was a step too late in dismissing her energy extension, not yet fully accustomed to the drawbacks of the new technique.

  A smaller jaw closed on her arm, but before she could swath it aside, another monster surprised her by burrowing up from below the sand and pinned her leg. The large skalith’s eyes glinted with sadistic satisfaction as it lunged with its jaw, its intelligent gaze finally betraying the depth of its pack’s strategy. The sand suddenly responded to its will as it used its dragon sorcery to control it.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, damned shadows!” Lan shouted, as nearly the entire battlefield froze. The lizards watched with satisfaction at their alpha’s encroaching victory.

  The world froze in Lan’s mind as adrenaline pumped. Instinctively, he stepped forward, jumping over a skalith’s jaw and pushing off its back. He was too slow. He wouldn’t make it. He was faster than ever, but still too slow. He needed more—more speed, more light.

  The aura gathered around his feet, and he sped up by a magnitude. He pushed off another lizard’s body and flew like a flash, still too slow. He needed to ride the light. Pushing off things was too slow. Light was the fastest thing there ever was, ever would be. It didn’t need to bounce off anything to move faster.

  Again, his aura swelled, and this time it hurt. His legs felt on fire as his life energy solidified. His eyes burned as the world widened around him.

  He saw everything around him in perfect clarity. His legs became solid gold, and then he flew. With a speed that overwhelmed his mind, he crossed the distance to the giant monster in a flash, the world reduced to a blur of shapes, colors, and pain. His light burned him from the inside like molten lava.

  His blade ignited, solidifying into scorching brilliance, heat searing his hand as his energy crossed the threshold of physical manifestation. A wall of sand surged to stop him, but he barely noticed it as the grains melted and evaporated.

  His blade pierced the creature’s left ear hole. It screamed in surprise as the world spun in its eyes, heat searing its hearing organs. Its howl was loud enough to pop Lan’s eardrums instantly.

  Still, even as Lan’s body burned and his muscles screamed in protest, his new power did little more than shock and wound the beast. It recovered swiftly, its slit eyelid narrowing as it glared at him with pure hatred.

  The monster’s remaining arm swatted the annoyance aside, slamming him into the ground. The force pushed air from his lungs, burns flaring across his body.

  The High Protector didn’t waste the opening. Her feet moved forward and her body followed in one fluid motion, her technique perfected over two decades, slicing through the large creature’s neck with nearly no resistance.

  Lan smiled as a massive head slammed beside him. Summoning the last of his strength, he caught sight of sledges and warriors riding familiar skalith, bathed in brilliant golden light, hurtling toward them with terrifying speed and looking like the Sun itself. Then the fourth-stage prana user finally lost consciousness.

  When the large skalith fell, the rest of the mutated creatures became too disorganized to pose any real opposition. Without their alpha, the lizards were unsure who to follow, and a few small pockets gathered that were quickly dealt with. At that point, Aren barely had to do anything, so he used the occasion to practice more with his bracelet. It seemed that despite Marie using her blessing to speed them up, they had come only to help with the cleanup.

  He tripped, blocked, and separated monsters with purple barriers, making the rest of the warriors’ job easier. He also ensured that priests could easily reach the wounded. Marie decided not to intervene at that point either, letting the rest of the warriors vent their emotions from the heated battle and put their training into practice.

  When the last of the creatures fell, he saw many warriors celebrating, yet one towering form did something else. Bar’tik, still in his bear-boar form, looked around confused, his azure fur bathed in blood and entrails, even his mouth had a piece of flesh hanging from it.

  Then the berserker started to groom himself. Seeing this, Aren’s mouth fell open and he hurried to Mar’tei, who was already heading toward her brother.

  “Is he okay?” Aren asked, more curious than worried, as Mar’tei did not look surprised.

  “This happens when he gives too much to his ancestral instincts,” Mar’tei explained. “He doesn’t only channel the power to transform, but also all the memories of battle our blood carries.”

  Aren’s eyes widened at that, and he pulled out his circlet, seeing the energy move inside the ancestral warrior was a novel experience. The holy power inside him was brimming, flowing in patterns that reminded him of how some beasts used life force. On top of that, Bar’tik’s ruby-colored life force was actively turned into more of the azure energy.

  “Do you think he would mind if I used a spell to see into his mind?” Aren asked.

  “I’m not sure you will find anything other than combat in that empty head,” Mar’tei answered, giving him permission.

  Aren did not wait, and when his spell completed, he found himself looking upon a landscape of pure snow.

  There, Bar’tik stood, but his eyes looked empty. Instead, a large pure white bear towered behind him, biting into the man’s shoulder and consuming his crimson blood.

  To the side, an azure boar dug through the snow, uprooting ruby-like gems that it devoured. As in exchange, from both creatures, energy seeped and entered the form of the large berserker.

  “It’s… gruesome,” Aren muttered. “It’s like they are consuming him in exchange for power, but they are giving more than they are receiving.”

  “What do you see?” Mar’tei asked.

  “The figures of boar and bear are taking something from Bar’tik in exchange for the transformation. I will go deeper,” Aren said and guided his spell.

  His consciousness slipped into that of the boar and the bear, and there he saw a large forest. Immense quantities of visions of wild battles poured into his mind, and only his practice with the world’s memories let him filter through all of it.

  Seeing how the visions integrated directly into the berserker’s consciousness was impressive. It also didn’t look like Bar’tik had lost his reason. He was just coming down from the high of a battle and looked to be comfortable in this form.

  “Holy power never makes sense, but you are right. Both of the beasts are like amalgamations of memories created through holy power,” Aren answered. “The most interesting part is how they interact with Bar’tik’s natural life energy. It’s like they are slowly turning him into one of themselves.”

  “Some warriors that achieve the deepest levels of transformation never return to their human forms,” Mar’tei said. “It’s said that their spirits are the ones berserkers see when they pull on their wild side deeply.”

  When Aren dropped his spell, Mar’tei drew a quick three-circle formation and summoned a torrent of ice-cold water that poured directly onto her brother. It served as both a wake-up call and a shower for the warrior. Slowly, his transformation came undone, and he had a satisfied look on his face.

  “That was fun,” was the first thing he said. “Thanks, as always, sister.”

  “If one day you never turn back, you are sleeping in a barn,” she joked.

  The berserker grimaced. “How is Lan? I remember him turning into light and flying toward the large lizard.”

  Aren looked toward the group of priests healing everyone. “Wes is with him. He crossed over to the fourth stage, but the sudden surge of power he was not used to burned him. He will be fine with healing, though.”

  “I see. Well, this was fun. Good thing we went ahead of you,” Bar’tik smiled. “This time you didn’t get to have all the entertainment to yourself.”

  Aren sighed. “Well, it doesn’t look like anyone died. With this number of holy warriors on hand, they were able to apply emergency healing.”

  At that moment, the gate of the city opened, and a group of priests led by a woman with an amber cloak draped over her shoulders stepped toward them. Upon seeing this, the few guards that had come from the city to fight ran toward them with haste and formed a formation with the woman in the center.

  Marie and Crina, together with a small ensemble of holy warriors, waited to meet them. Aren decided to wander closer, just in case he was needed.

  As soon as the city governor was within speaking distance, she fell to her knees. “Luminous One, Holy Exemplar, thank you and your men for coming to our aid.”

  “As the fourth holy letter commands,” Marie proclaimed, then her voice turned questioning. “Why are your defenses this inadequate? The Rain Season is coming.”

  The governor bowed deeper. “I have ordered our warriors to clear a nest of lissath that have been kidnapped in our eastern villages.”

  “A bad timing for that,” Marie concluded. “You should not blame yourself, no one could have predicted an attack like this.”

  “Thank you, Radiant Exemplar, for your kind words, but this is a failure on me as a leader. I should have taken precaution and had more of the warriors stay,” the governor smiled. “Please come to our city. We will provide for you, and we can greet the Sun together in the morning prayer.”

  “We will camp outside the city walls,” Marie stated firmly. “The monsters are a thin shadow compared to the darkness that hunts us. We will visit tomorrow for the Luminous One’s prayer.”

  The governor did not argue. Instead, she ensured a feast was brought to their camp, carried by a line of servants. As the first light touched the walls, the city’s people came forth, offering prayers and heartfelt thanks to the Luminous One and the warriors who had saved them. When the sun rose the next time, the camp was ready to move on, the city fading behind them.

  Their journey continued with no more surprises. The word of the Luminous One saving the city had spread, and their next visits were welcomed even more fervently, despite them not following the strict tradition. The southern people seemed to be finally warming up to the unusual way this pilgrimage was performed.

  Aren sat in Crina’s tent as they moved today. He had cleared all the memories from his head and, to his delight, recorded multiple new resonances. He had not discovered anything that could have affected him emotionally, but this treasure trove gave him another idea he was slowly preparing to put into practice.

  As the part of his brain that always thought about magic churned ever forward, he threw a dice and moved his piece onto a red square on a board.

  “I guess I lose,” Aren flipped his piece as the last of his golden tokens were given away to Marie, who claimed the space before him. “What a mind-bogglingly random game. The person who claims the best spots first is designed to win.”

  Crina looked away from the board, focused on something else as she stared at the tent wall. She had been hooked on the latest bit of entertainment she had secured in the last city, but today she didn’t seem into it.

  “We will reach the next city before the day’s end. We will be able to organize the prayer and leave tomorrow,” Marie said, trying to sound reassuring.

  Crina nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

  Aren scratched his head. “Do you know the city we are heading to?”

  “It’s called Nomah. I was born here,” Crina said, her voice slightly stiff. “I have not been here for a very long time, since my father died.”

  Aren’s eyes widened. “Do you wish to talk about this?”

  “I…” Crina hesitated. “I will, just not today.”

  Aren nodded. There must be a lot of emotions connected to the topic. He would not press the issue and would wait until his friend was ready to tell him herself. Still, that made him worried. The city had come into his mind’s view a while ago, but it seemed like an average minor city he had seen many times now.

  When they stopped in front of the city gates and their procession was welcomed with fervent prayers. People knelt on both sides as they shouted praises towards the Luminous One and the One Sun.

  He had to put on his black band as usual, but few gave it more than a glance at this point. Aren still didn’t feel welcomed, but at least he was being tolerated. While keeping Crina safe was important, it was good that her reputation was strong enough to prevent people from spreading rumors regarding him. He didn’t wish to be a weight that would pull her plans down.

  He dutifully helped Crina step down from her raised platform and fell into step behind her. They were supposed to head into the temple, yet the young woman stayed in place, looking seemingly at nothing.

  “So they demolished it,” she mumbled, only their proximity letting Aren hear her words.

  Then, before he could say anything, she stepped forward as usual and he followed. The prayer did not proceed any differently from normal, and the large crowd soon was upon their Luminous One, asking for prayers and blessings.

  Aren scanned the crowd carefully, keeping his magical senses sharp as usual. He saw a wrinkled man with white hair trying to stand on his toes to get a better look at Crina, but the mage soon shifted his attention to another target. Once again, he sensed nothing magical, and Marie, with Donnavan, made sure no one tried anything physical.

  Finally, the line was thinning out, and the elderly man from before got his turn. Then, as he got a good look at the young woman, he stiffened. His hand went upward, pointing at her, and he yelled in surprise and fear.

  “I know those eyes!” he screamed, pointing a trembling finger.

  “You… you are Cairon’s daughter, the heretic’s spawn!”

  Marie stepped forward, ready to intervene, but the man sank to his knees, tears streaming. “I… I gave my prayers to the heretic’s spawn…” he whispered, over and over.

  Feeling any intervention on his part would only backfire, Aren heeded toward Crina. Marie was already ordering the man to be taken away, but the temple was silent despite the mass of people. When his eyes met Crina, her face was stark with shock, then her body contorted in pain, and Aren caught her before she fell to the floor.