Sweat and rain soaked Aren’s back as he went through his routine exercises. For now, only a few body-temperature droplets struck his clothes, sparse enough to ignore, though he knew it would get worse. The sand beneath him was darkening, each step leaving behind perfect footprints. A warm, mineral smell filled his nose as the sun continued to assault him with its rays, and when he lowered himself to the ground, thin wisps of steam rose from the heated sand.

  He was also dealing with a spike in monster activity at the same time. Unlike before, when the vast swaths of desert were mostly empty, on the first day of rain he had detected and killed over fifty creatures heading straight for them. Today, he was already at forty. The warriors could have handled them on their own, but each time he killed one he did felt a little better, if only for a moment.

  The training ground was emptier than usual. Normally, everyone not on watch duty came to train. Today, only a few of the holy warriors showed up, still, Louis’s warriors were nearly all present. Bar’tik and the two Ayru brothers were on their enforced rest day.

  Despite all that, his mind was preoccupied with the recent events. The camp moved through its motions with its usual efficacy. Yet, aside from him and the two northern adventurers, everyone was visibly distraught to varying degrees at the revelation of Crina’s past. He still needed to learn the details from her, but with her illness, it didn’t seem like the right time. He wished he had a way to send a sample of her blood with the bacteria to the academy.

  Aren raised his arm, and a purple barrier sprang up around him in an instant. A strike, powerful enough to displace raindrops and sand, came in a flash of motion. With his wards up, the surprise training was somewhat redundant, but since he hadn’t enhanced his processing speed, reacting to the sudden burst of movements from the now sixth-stage officer was still a challenge.

  His skill with the bracelet had improved even further, and it was now equal in strength to his six-circle spells. While it wasn’t his strongest defense, it was certainly becoming the fastest. He couldn’t believe he had been sitting on this treasure for years, only now discovering its true capabilities. He tried to smile, but despite the progress he was making, the joy wasn’t there.

  “Donnavan,” Aren called, lowering his barrier. “What are your thoughts on the… situation?”

  The officer sheathed his sword, his stoic face betraying no emotion. “It’s regrettable that it came to light, however you put it. We will have to hope it is treated as a rumor, but I doubt the high families who disapprove of the Luminous One’s methods will refrain from using it, even those not responsible for the assassins.”

  “I meant personally,” Aren said. “You didn’t know either, right?”

  “It’s… difficult to process,” the man admitted. “Be it north or south, the sin of her father is one that taints generations, if they survive. Still, my mission doesn’t change. I won’t abandon my duty… and my admiration for what the Luminous One’s work accomplished hasn’t lessened.”

  “Thanks,” Aren nodded. “She should probably hear that. Crina seems down. She has been spending all her time worrying about what she must do to preserve what she’s worked for.”

  The warrior's eyes wandered for a moment towards the tent, then he tilted his head, “I will try.”

  Aren sighed. Well, he couldn’t ask for more. The man’s official, reserved demeanor probably didn’t make words like that come easily. Still, Aren worried about his friend. She should be resting more. His spells clearly helped, but he didn’t know what effects they could have in the long term.

  “Your life force is becoming stronger,” Donnavan commented, his new eyes allowing him to see and predict the movement of others’ life energy. “You may reach the first stage with a bit more effort.”

  “Really?” Aren said, looking at his arms. They had thickened noticeably. He wasn’t bulky, but no one could deny he was athletic now. Normally, he would have needed a year of hard training to achieve anything close to this. “Well, it will be a pseudo stage anyway. My mana is too dense for me to actually manipulate life energy.”

  “You weren’t going to become a life-practitioner anyway,” the warrior said, “but a stronger, healthier body will help you endure the heavier rain more easily.”

  “Well, that was kind of the point of this,” Aren said, resuming his exercises.

  Once he finished and wiped the sweat from his body, Aren wandered through the camp toward his tent. He noticed the Sun Watcher floating above Crina’s tent, at least it didn’t have the capacity to judge someone based on their feelings. He planned to research whether his new spell could allow him to intentionally locate specific sorcerous resonances, like the fragments he had discovered embedded in his mind. Now that he knew what to look for, he had already managed to design a filtering formation.

  “Ren, sit down with us,” a deep voice called out to him.

  Looking around, he spotted the four adventurers sitting in front of their tent, sheltered from the rain by a cloth flap. Wes waved him over, and the man seemed to carry an air of pleading about him. Curious about what it was, Aren stepped closer and noticed they were drinking some kind of cactus wine.

  Sitting down, Aren looked over the group, his gaze lingering on Lan, whose changes were the most obvious of all. The lankier of the brothers now had a constant golden sheen to his dark skin, and at just the right angle, his eyes seemed to darken instead, consuming the light around them. His muscles were also more defined, and overall he looked like a proper fourth-stage prana user.

  “We didn’t have a chance to talk. Congratulations, Lan, on ascending,” Aren said. “I’ve seen the progress of the three of you as well, as I overlooked the camp with my wards.”

  “Hmhmh!” the younger brother hummed happily. “I can now do this!”

  In a flash of light, the warrior vanished from his seat. Aren smirked and raised a barrier around his head as Lan tried to sprinkle sand on him. The speedster was remarkably fast for his stage, he could probably surprise an unsuspecting fifth-stage practitioner. Still, Aren wouldn’t be caught off guard again. Lan pouted when his surprise prank didn’t work out.

  Wes let out a relieved huff and smiled, “Finally, someone humbled him. He has been getting annoying.”

  “What can I say for the first time in my life I’m a stage above you,” Lan laughed as he sat down again.

  Wes filled a cup for Aren and passed it over. “I never lorded it over you that I was at a higher stage.”

  “As if,” Lan chortled. “Who made me bring him cold drinks whenever we were training, back when I was at the second stage, claiming you were doing me a favor by forcing me to spar with you until I was exhausted on my knees?”

  “Well you advanced to the third stage that much faster thanks to it,” Wes crossed his arms, clearly unhappy with the situation.

  “Have you started your centering exercises?” Aren interrupted the brotherly banter with a practical question.

  “Centering exercises?” Lan asked, confused.

  “Maybe you call them something else down here,” Aren assumed. “They’re designed exercises for prana users to ensure that their transition to the fifth stage doesn’t transmute their body into something they can’t support, especially for someone like you, who channels prana directly through their body instead of focusing it on a weapon.”

  “Ehm, no? I’ve never heard of it. I was the only prana user in our village, and I guess we never stumbled upon that in our travels,” Lan said, a hint of worry in his voice.

  Aren looked at him with sympathetic understanding, which only deepened the frown on the warrior’s face. “I can’t teach you these exercises, but you should find a teacher when you can. From what I know they require patience and understanding to master. As a cautionary tale, I’ll tell you that when I was still an adventurer, I met an incredible flow prana warrior. He was at the peak of the fourth stage. He could deflect and control nearly all kinds of energy, preventing strikes even from much stronger enemies with ease.

  Then, during a fight with a powerful monster, he ascended a stage. His body became a whirlpool of energy, allowing him to deflect all attacks and even manipulate the energy inside the beast. After the fight ended and his concentration broke, he died, transformed into a foam-like fluid right beneath our feet. It was quite… traumatizing at the time.”

  The other adventurers went silent, turning to face Lan with looks of pity, shaking their heads regretfully, it was already too late. The young man’s face was streaked with existential horror as he stared at his glowing arms. Then, noticing their expressions, he crossed his arms, offended.

  “Don’t look at me like I’m done for,” Lan said. “I won’t reach the next stage for at least a few years! I can learn in that time!”

  “I’m not so sure, brother. It requires patience and understanding, and you’re not great at either,” Wes said, his voice tinged with regret, but his eyes betrayed a teasing glint.

  “I will make sure to sing a song of your brave flashing!” Bar’tik said seriously, then broke into giggles, and Wes joined him.

  “Haha, I still saved the day back then,” Lan said. “Do you think the church has someone who can teach me?”

  “I’m sure they do, but I think you could ask Rati or Kron,” Aren suggested.

  Wes grimaced. “I’m not sure if Protector Rati is a good idea right now.”

  “Why?” Aren asked. “From what I understand, Lan’s intervention saved her.”

  “That’s not really the issue,” Lan said. “I guess you didn’t see her the last two days, but she isn’t taking the… news easily. I mean, none of us, people of the Sands, did. But the idea of protecting… a heretic’s daughter really doesn’t sit well with the protector.”

  “I see, the governor was quite pious,” Aren said, internalizing the fact that he needed to watch out for her. “Anyone else?”

  “I don’t think anyone else is taking it that badly. A few of the priests look troubled, and some of the holy warriors spend most of the day gazing at the Sun, but that’s to be expected in these circumstances,” Lan surmised.

  “Even Lan and I were shocked,” Wes said. “But we were exposed to people who wanted to leave the Sands for many reasons, family ties to sinners at the border village, for example. I have come to a personal conclusion that, whatever her father’s sins were, what the Luminous One achieved and continues to do proves her soul’s radiance. The One Sun chose her, after all.”

  “I think that’s stupid. The sins of one’s ancestors are to be redeemed by their blood, and Crina is doing all of that and more,” Mar’tei began, ranting. “If descendants linger and try to forget the past, then pointing out the debt of their ancestors’ sins is proper, even required. But in a case like this, it’s a pathetic display of a lack of love for one’s neighbor. On top of that, your Sun chose her. If our Spirits forgave someone, we would bury the memory of the sin in the deepest snow and never mention it again.”

  “I agree with you, sister,” Bar’tik said mid-drink. “I think everyone is overthinking the matter as it is.”

  Wes and his brother looked slightly troubled by the speech. “Maybe you’re right, though I’d avoid repeating the harsher word used for Protector Rati and the others. Our ways are different, but we should defer to the Sun’s choice, no matter how it sits with us personally.”

  Aren nodded. “Your culture can be as harsh as your weather, which I have felt personally, in both cases. Still, once Crina feels a little better, maybe I could invite her to a small gathering. I think she needs to realize that not everyone thinks badly of her now.”

  While Wes and Lan showed slight trepidation but did not disagree, Mar’tei nodded with enthusiasm. “Indeed, how is she doing?”

  “It’s a complicated disease,” Aren said. “I’m fairly certain the bacteria naturally utilizes life force. Holy power can halt and reverse its spread temporarily, but it leaves her weakened. I can replenish some of her energy and dull the remaining pain, I’ll need to look into whether I can enhance the effect.”

  “But the sickness was gone until now, why did it come back?” Mar’tei asked.

  “I don’t know,” Aren said. “Maybe it wasn’t held back by the Sun, but by the belief of the people in the Luminous One. But in that case, how did it decline so fast? It’s not like other cities learned of this all at once just because one old man said something. Maybe it’s local faith. Holy powers don’t always make logical sense.”

  The group fell silent for a while. Eventually, the conversation drifted to more mundane topics, and soon Aren excused himself, he had magic to research. As he was midway to his tent, Mar’tei caught up to him.

  “Can I ask you some questions? I’ve been training my mind vault,” Mar’tei said.

  Aren nodded. “Of course. I’ve left you to your own devices, but I am your teacher, even if technically we never agreed to that hierarchy officially.”

  “It’s been a little ambiguous. I agreed to come with you to the academy, so I guessed I would become a student there,” Mar’tei said.

  “Well, that would make you a student, not my personal apprentice,” Aren said.

  “Your personal apprentice…” Mar’tei repeated, her eyes going wide.

  “Do you wish to become one? You have more than enough talent,” Aren said. “Honestly, once we get you started on fifth-circle spells, you’ll already be better than most mages at the academy. Even among battle mages, you’ll be in the upper crust, maybe one of the best in your age group.”

  “I, well, of course I would like to, but do I have to now call you master, that would feel weird,” Mar’tei said quickly.

  “No need to. My other apprentice is a bit of a stickler for official titles, but I don’t care much,” Aren said. “Maybe I will when I have a long grey beard. It would also bring more scrutiny if you suddenly started calling me master. Apparently, there was a rumor that I abandoned you for trying to seduce Crina.”

  “I know. Hann and the roommates I had during the festival came to console me, and badmouth you,” Mar’tei said with a smile. “People would probably assume it’s your fetish or some other debauchery.”

  “I don’t want to know what my reputation among them is anymore,” Aren shook his head.

  “Well, then, my ambiguous apprentice, what did you wish to ask?”

  “Well then, my scandalous master,” Mar’tei said, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “I wanted to know what my next step is for preparing the five-circle elemental spells. I also wanted to talk about the thing you mentioned during our escapade with Crina at the festival, something about there being more to her duty?”

  Aren nodded, remembering the conversation. With a quick weave of his hand, he deployed a privacy formation around their tent. “Let’s start with the latter one first. From what I understand, there is an apocalyptic beast sealed within the veil that the Luminous One enters.”

  “What!?” Mar’tei shouted, covering her mouth.

  “Don’t worry. I have a privacy ward in place. You can speak normally,” Aren said. “Apparently, the Luminous One is meant to spend twelve hours a day with the being. I don’t know how much of that is tradition and how much is a real requirement, but if there is a seal sustained by holy power, then anything might be necessary. You do not keep such a being sealed with half measures. Honestly, the whole arrangement feels unnatural, but holy powers often are. It is possible that hundreds of domain-level priests sacrificed themselves to create it. I cannot be sure.”

  Mar’tei looked overwhelmed by the information, but Aren did not pause. At this point, it was better to say everything at once.

  “I intended to research it, but I failed. You saw that. I believe the… thing we saw in my viewing window back then may be connected to the beast, but I can’t say so for certain, and I cannot revisit that time period,” Aren said with a trace of irritation.

  Moving on, he continued, “One of the Luminous One’s guardians is allowed to enter the veil with her, and my agreement with Marie is that I will take that role. It will give me a chance to observe the being directly and, if possible, speak with it.”

  “That’s a lot, like, existentially a lot,” Mar’tei said, sitting on a carpet in the tent. “Is it safe for you then? What if it knows you tried to see the past? Is it safe for Crina? What is the beast going to do to her?”

  “I can’t know any of that, but nothing bad has ever happened to any of the Luminous Ones while inside the veil, and the same goes for their guardians,” Aren said. “Unless I do something stupid, I should be fine.”

  Mar’tei sat quietly for a while. Aren gave her time and sat down on his own bed, realizing it was a lot of information at once.

  “So, an apocalyptic beast,” Mar’tei finally huffed out. “To think something like that is there, that’s scary. And Crina has to spend her whole life with it, and people still try to kill her or judge her. How is any of that fair?”

  “It’s not, and honestly, it’s ridiculous that so much weight is pushed onto her shoulders,” Aren agreed.

  “And if she doesn’t reach the veil, then that year of darkness happens, the one Lord Bar mentioned?” Mar’tei recalled.

  “Indeed, although whatever that means, we don’t know. The One Sun Church included,” Aren said.

  “What if it means the creature can roam free again?” Mar’tei asked.

  “If that were true, it wouldn’t be called the year of darkness, but the end of the world,” Aren said. “Although I don’t think we can fully disregard that possibility. I think it’s more likely it gains some level of influence over the world until another Luminous One is born. Anyway, that’s not going to happen under my watch. Crina will reach her goal safely, no matter what.”

  “I see,” Mar’tei finally sagged, a sense of relief washing over her. “I don’t know if this was a secret I was ready for. I can’t do anything about it, but I wish there was some way I could help.”

  “I feel the same,” Aren said. “I’m not strong enough to do anything about an apocalyptic beast. I can only get her there and hope that meeting the monster will give me some clue that will let me deal with it one day.”

  Mar’tei looked at him, realization dawning in her eyes. “I see… we can’t do anything about it… now.”

  “Yes, but humanity didn’t survive all this time by sitting and doing nothing,” Aren said with a smile. “It may take more than my lifetime, but I plan to be one of the cornerstones that helps humanity one day be free of those horrors.”

  The archmage summoned a book into his hand, opened it to the page he wanted, and passed it to his new student. “Small steps first. You can worry about apocalyptic monsters once you’re an archmage. Read this. It contains a five-circle spell you can practice safely. It is designed to condense pure water from the air and create a sculpture of ice. Its complexity lies in manipulation, not power, so even if you fail, you’ll at most get a small frostbite or end up with a crooked statue.”

  Mar’tei nodded. “Small steps indeed. Am I ready for this?”

  “You have to prove that, but I believe so,” Aren said with a smile.

  Mar’tei smiled back and dove into the book where she sat, forgetting the world around her. With a shrug, Aren turned to his own research. Taking out his wand, he began tracing the new formation with the filter he had designed.

  As soon as it flared with his mana and the spell began, a torrent of pure resonance assaulted his magical senses. It was contained to him, Mar’tei did realize what he had done, but it was too much at once, and he stopped to preserve his sanity. The flood of memories contained vast magical knowledge, but it was useless in this form. It was like trying to decode an animal’s instincts with a human mind, they weren’t made for him, which made sense since they were the memories of a planet.

  He quickly cast a diagnostic spell. Nothing was out of the ordinary, and no new fragments had lodged in his mind, so the spell had worked as intended. The earlier fragments had remained because his mind could comprehend them, likely echoes from the mages who had cast the sorcery themselves. The full flow, however, was far too alien.

  The magical potential exceeded anything he had experienced before. He decided to isolate a single resonance, choosing elemental for the task since it was his original one. Adjusting the spell, he restarted it. The flow was reduced and no longer threatened to overwhelm him, but it was still a jumble of memories and information that couldn’t be used.

  Halting his spell once more, he took a moment to center himself and rethink his approach. He needed a medium, something that could process and integrate the memories in a way that was useful and understandable to him. Memories of Bar’tik’s mind resurfaced, and with them came a solution. Creating an avatar within his mind using magic would not be easy, but he already had a solid foundation for it: his mind vault. A smile he could not control tugged at his lips. He forced it down. First, he would modify the pain dampener for Crina. Then he would get to real work.

  Crina was nervous and worried. Still feeling weak, on days like this part of her wanted to stay in bed, but she had her holy duties and personal goals to fulfill. It would not do for the Luminous One to feel this way, and the thought only deepened her sense of guilt.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Lan, Wes, Bar’tik, and Louis were returning from an investigation of their next destination, a city called Karsuun. Their figures appeared small against the towering city walls, beneath which piles of monster bodies lay, the sight blurred by the intensifying, constant rain. Water ran like a clear sheet down the dunes, which had begun to lose their shape as the sand shifted beneath it.

  Nothing was ever truly dry anymore, and the heat felt trapped behind the growing curtain of water. Still, she had lived with this every year since her birth and was used to it. Her condition was also better than it had ever been during the sickness, thanks to a combination of Marie’s healing and Aren’s magic, the pain was now little more than a whisper.

  The four warriors drew closer and knelt in front of her tent as she stepped out with Marie to meet them. Aren was already outside, standing at the front of the sledge, his clothes damp and clinging to his body. He looked much better than when she had first met him.

  “We bow before your radiance, Luminous One,” the three said in unison, their voices reverent, while Bar’tik mumbled and gave up midway, as usual.

  Crina saw none of the silent judgment she had noticed in others and her smile felt a little easier to maintain. “May the Sun always blanket you with its warmth.”

  “We have investigated the city’s issues, and Protector Rati also gave us her detailed report before our departure,” Lan said, passing a scroll to the nearest guard, who delivered it to Marie.

  “Thank you, as always,” Crina replied. She decided not to comment on the unusual absence of the high protector, she had heard that Rati did not think highly of her at the moment. “What issues have you discovered?”

  “The city is at full capacity, with the villagers hiding behind the walls from the monster attacks, but that is to be expected. There have been rumors of an increasing drug trade over the last few months, though we couldn’t find anything concrete. Also, for the past few years, the governor has requested larger and larger tributes,” Lan recited dutifully.

  “It seems their defenses are adequate for the season,” Marie said after reading the report.

  Crina nodded. She had expected nothing less. While she had never visited this neighboring city near her birthplace, she knew Karsuun was one of the largest cities in the south. The drug trade concerned her, she would need to speak with the governor about it and the rising tributes.

  “Were there any opinions regarding my arrival?” Crina decided to ask.

  Lan hesitated, his eyes filled with trepidation. After a dreadful moment, he spoke, “The rumors had spread, and while I don’t think everyone believes them, the majority…”

  “Don’t worry, Lan, I need to hear this,” Crina encouraged him.

  “There is dissent. The rumors are gaining traction, and we overheard some people say… that the city should bar its gates, as… they believe the Luminous One’s visit to their temple will bring… bad luck because of your parentage,” Lan said, his head dipping low.

  Crina didn’t react, at least, she hoped she didn’t, but no one besides Marie was looking at her. The exemplar appeared angry, barely containing her aura as her righteousness took golden form. Crina wondered whether it was directed at her or at the disrespect shown toward the Luminous One.

  “That feels fast. You don’t have public communicators, at least not easily accessible ones,” Aren commented. “I think this lends more weight to the theory that the leak of Crina’s past was planned and coordinated.”

  “And the south was the perfect place to spread them,” Marie huffed.

  “It doesn’t change my duty,” Crina said. “Will we be staying in this city?”

  Marie shook her head. “The rain will make the desert untraversable by normal means in five days, but we can make it to the next city before that.”

  Nodding, Crina turned to the four warriors. “Thank you again. You should rest now.”

  The four bowed to her, uttered respectful farewells, and departed. She and Marie went back inside, calling a few of the female holy warriors, as she needed to change into her ceremonial clothes. Aren stayed outside, his gaze fixed on the city before them. Soon, they began to move again and reached the city.

  Aren helped her onto the ceremonial platform. A roof had been attached to keep her ceremonial gown pristine. She noticed the water flowing through specially designed gaps in the sandstone tiles, directed straight into underground reservoirs.

  Crina lifted her eyes from the ground and, breathing deeply through her nose, looked forward, as was proper. A crowd watched her, and part of her wanted to curl in on herself. Their vacant gazes were intimidating.

  She focused on the prayer that was to come. As soon as they began to move, the people prayed, following their religion’s doctrine, even though she knew what they must be thinking. She did not blame them.

  The long trek toward the temple felt even longer than usual, the rain striking the roof above her. She wondered why it was that she was kept dry while everyone else got wet. Her gaze remained fixed forward, facing the Sun, she would not fail this duty.

  At the temple, she prayed with all her heart. When she recited the parable, she saw that everyone was listening, but this time she knew they were judging her every syllable. She focused, relying on her extensive practice, otherwise she might have stumbled over her words, which would have been unbecoming of her position.

  When the time came for giving blessings and hearing individual prayers, her heart sank even further. She had expected this, but no one dared approach her, even parents kept their children at a distance. As a result, the prayers ended quickly, and the people began to leave, aware that her own departure would soon follow.

  She stepped swiftly to the governor, whose dark eyes remained neutral as they met hers. “Radiant greetings to you, Governor Noem.”

  “Pristine Sun, what can I do for you, Luminous One?” the middle-aged ruler asked, his scarlet cape draped over one shoulder, marking his high station as one of the heads of the nine great families.

  She noted his curt words and decided on her approach. “I see that you have places and housing prepared for all your people. You must care deeply for your city.”

  The man nodded. “It’s tradition.”

  “I’ve heard troubling rumors that the dark trades have used this opportunity to spread illicit substances among the populace,” Crina began, but before she could continue, she was interrupted.

  “Yes, I know, Luminous One,” he said, his voice edging toward impatience. “I’m currently occupied with the city’s defenses. I don’t have the personnel or the time to address this matter, it is a minor issue in comparison. I will attend to it once the Rain Season ends.”

  Crina felt cut off. She knew her usual methods would not work this time and looked toward Marie, who quickly approached.

  “May radiance fill your heart,” Marie greeted. “I understand the current situation is pressing, but on my return trip I can offer my assistance in cleansing this shadow.”

  The governor tensed, and Marie’s eyes flared with suspicion. “I will exercise every shadow.”

  “Thank you, Holy Exemplar, but I would not dare trouble your radiant personage. I will give this matter the highest priority as soon as I can,” the man said, regaining his composure.

  Marie nodded, and Crina continued, “I overheard that the tribute this year was higher than usual.”

  “There were requirements for this year’s preparation,” the man offered, not elaborating. “I assure you this is temporary.”

  “Requirements?” Crina probed further.

  “The city defenses needed redesign, Luminous One,” the governor said.

  “I understand. Thank you for assuaging my concerns,” Crina said, trying to smile warmly. “I hope I did not intrude.”

  “Of course not, Luminous One,” the man replied, eager to end the conversation. “It’s heartening to hear that your care for the people is as the rumors suggested. Your dark past did not taint your heart.”

  Crina contained a twitch of emotion. “I only strive to make life in the Sands a little more radiant.”

  “May your path blaze with holy radiance,” the governor said, graciously closing the discussion.

  He then officially bid them farewell, showing utmost reverence in the presence of the exemplar. As soon as she was alone with Marie, Crina let out a silent sigh.

  “Will it be like this with every governor now, having to balance my role’s religious significance and corner them with your exemplar’s authority?” she asked quietly.

  Marie paused before responding. “Governor Noem is a traditionalist, as are most in the south. His family has felt the changes in the Sands the most, his treasury depended heavily on the large tithe from the temple. Others may be less rigid in their ways.”

  She then furrowed her brows. “However, I have not seen anything about new defenses in Protector Rati’s report. We do not have time now, but I will mark this place for investigation.”

  Crina did not say anything, though she had hoped for a different result. Their conversation ended as the head priest approached to pay his respects, looking slightly stiff.

  Aren then approached and escorted her out of the temple. Seeing the city’s people once more, she wondered if she had grown up normally and been among this crowd, how she would view her current self. She knew the answer. She would be the same as them. After all, it was all her fault.

  The air felt heavy as Aren filled his lungs. Sleep felt impossible in the humid air, and he could not shake the feeling of being slowly steamed alive. Only meditation offered any meaningful rest for now, letting him set aside bodily distractions. He had promised not to use magic unless absolutely necessary, but knowing it would only get worse, he was beginning to wonder what would truly count as necessary.

  Rain Season in Vo’Teol was never this hot. He wondered how ordinary people endured it. He knew most stayed out of the rain, but even the air itself felt like a menace. Still, if they could manage, so could he.

  He sensed that Mar’tei had cast a cooling and dehumidifying spell in her tent. Maybe he could find a reason to visit his apprentice. It would not be his magic, after all. He quickly dismissed the idea. She needed real rest and was not yet proficient enough with meditation and mana exercises to recover that way.

  Shaking his head, he refocused on his spell, he was moving towards the field of magic that was only theorized upon. Creating a construct that could process things and give back feedback was a goal of many mages before but as many as tried just as many either lost control of their golem or ended up in a feedback loop that fried their brain.

  He would need to use mnemonic and sympathetic magic to store and process the resonances. He would also most likely require divinative and emotive components, one to discern the resonance, the other to map it to his thought patterns. It was a lot to pack into a single complex spell, and he could only hope it would work if he built it on the existing brain-adjacent magical framework already linked to his mind.

  If it failed, there was a possibility he would need to rebuild his mind vault from scratch, or he could overload his mind and become something unrecognizable… or simply die. He made sure to note every formation that passed his internal simulation, then performed the tests he could, iterating again and again.

  Suddenly, he felt the camp shift and saw Marie speed toward his tent in a flash of light. In the moment he had, he performed a wide scan of the surroundings and discovered a few monsters far away, but nothing out of the ordinary. Standing, he greeted the exemplar, who barged into his tent, eyes scanning furiously.

  “Where is she?” Marie demanded, her gaze blazing.

  Aren’s mind raced. Focusing on his detection wards, he quickly found the Crina and nodded to the exemplar. “She is within the camp. I found her. She is safe.”

  Then he looked at the furious exemplar and, considering what he sensed, spoke. “Although it may be best if you calm down before going to her.”

  “Speak plainly,” Marie demanded.

  “Can I ask what you were doing earlier? I’ve already figured out that she had snuck out while you were in deep meditation. She must have used the medallion I made. I had nothing to do with it,” Aren said.

  Marie perceived the truth with her golden eyes, then exhaled in frustration. “We were discussing what happened yesterday in the city and the state of the camp. I was in deep communion, focusing on external threats, so I didn’t notice.”

  “Her desire not to be found right now must be stronger than ever,” Aren said, then added, “She is crying.”

  Aren stepped carefully into their supplies tent. He was no expert at consoling, but once Marie had learned of Crina’s current state, she had told him to go to her as the Sunbearer. Apparently, the exemplar training hadn’t covered that in their curriculum either.

  Through the enhancement, he saw Crina kneeling and praying, clutching the medallion in her hands. Her long chestnut hair clung to her wet clothes, she must have stayed in the rain for a while. Streams of tears flowed down her flushed cheeks as she uttered a prayer he had learned was one priests gave during penitence.

  The thought of hugging her the way she had hugged him crossed his mind. It felt awkward. He did it anyway. He lowered himself to his knees, and while she was still unaware of his presence, he touched her shoulder. She jumped in surprise, and when she turned to look at him, he drew her into an embrace.

  She felt small and fragile in his arms. He wondered what he should do next. He could kill monsters for her, but he doubted that butchering everyone who had made her feel this way would help. After a long stretch of sobbing, silence finally settled between them.

  She spoke first, her voice hoarse. “I feel like I haven’t been hugged like this in a very long time. The last time was probably when my adoptive father found me crying at night after a nightmare a few years ago.”

  Aren’s thoughts churned as he searched for something to say, distracted by a closeness he rarely experienced. “You… smell kind of nice.”

  He wanted to die.

  “What?” Crina jerked her head up in confusion, looking at him with her ashen eyes, still puffy and fresh from tears.

  “I…” Aren tried to think of an excuse. “I was thinking about what I was supposed to say, and I ended up saying what I wasn’t thinking. Not that you don’t… smell nice or anything. I mean…”

  He stopped himself and felt his cheeks heat up. Maybe he should lift the ban on magic. With the help of a few spells, he was sure he could think this through more clearly, at least give himself some much-needed processing speed.

  Crina shook, a chortle escaping her lips. “Pfft… thank you. Your new muscles feel great too… pfft…”

  “Thank you?” Aren said, a little surprised. Then he took a deep breath. “What happened?”

  Crina looked away, then slowly untangled herself from him and sat down listlessly, her back pressed against a wooden supply chest. “I wanted to take a look around the camp without people seeing me… figure out what they thought about… me, I think.”

  Aren nodded, listening.

  “I heard two holy warriors discussing their doubts, if this mission was truly worthy of their devotion, if I was worthy of Marie’s time. I overheard Marc muttering angrily to himself that he could be doing better things… hunting evil…” Crina lingered on the memory for a moment.

  “Then I saw Protector Rati writing a letter. It was to her father… I shouldn’t have read it, but… it was about whether she should return to her city or continue escorting a heretic…”

  “That’s,” Aren said, anger welling inside him, “look, Crina, you can’t believe everything other people think about you.”

  “It’s true, though,” Crina said, curling her knees to her chest. “It’s my guilt. It’s my fault.”

  “I know I’m not from around here, I may not share the same values, but sins of a father doesn’t automatically make them your sins—”

  “I knew!” she shouted hoarsely, interrupting him. “Father shared with me some of what he was researching. He kept saying he wanted to disprove them, to find proof the Prophet-King would approve of, and I listened. He became more and more fervent, and instead of telling him to stop or going to the priests, I listened. I supported him in his work.”

  “You were young back then. It’s normal for a child not to want to betray their parents, not to fail them,” Aren said, keeping his tone controlled.

  “That’s only an excuse,” Crina countered.

  Aren opened his mouth to argue that it was illogical, but he stopped and thought for a moment. He knew logic wouldn’t get through. Being a friend was difficult. He could protect her, but he didn’t know enough about her. He had thought he was respecting her privacy and well-being, but he should have talked about this earlier.

  “Would you tell me about him?” Aren asked.

  “Heretics should be forgotten,” Crina’s voice cracked.

  “I don’t mean that,” Aren said. “I want to learn about your father… your mother too. I told you about mine, but I never asked about yours.”

  “I…” Crina hesitated.

  “You know, kids in Vo’Teol are taught about Carion, father of the globe. When I first heard of him as a young apprentice, I thought he must be a great scholar,” Aren said, almost reverently. “No one speaks of him like a heretic, most thought his passing was tragic.”

  The young woman raised her reddened eyes to look at him, surprise evident on her face.

  “What he discovered was remarkable, and you know what? He did another great thing,” Aren said, a smile on his face.

  “What?”

  “He had you,” Aren stated. “I admire you.”

  Crina looked at him, stunned.

  “You do your best to help others, even now. When people judge you, you still worry about them. Despite the threat of assassins, you never backed down. The first thing you did when we met was ask if I was okay, after you had nearly been killed. You go out of your way, beyond your duty, whenever you see a chance to do something good. You didn’t want to abandon Louis and his men, even though it would have prolonged your journey and possibly put your life at risk.”

  “You helped them, and then I and Marie used it to our advantage. I only watched…” Crina denied his words.

  “Maybe my power was necessary, but you see, I wasn’t going to do anything at first,” Aren said.

  Crina looked at him, not understanding.

  “I was fine with just going along, to make the journey faster, but then you stood up for them. I saw the sadness you felt when Marie denied helping them,” Aren continued. “It’s only because of your will to help them that I intervened.”

  “And I don’t believe it’s all because of guilt over your past. Some of the recklessness may be, but I think you help people because you love life. I had a chance to see it myself during the festival, when we danced, and when we stuffed ourselves with too many sweets.”

  “I… that’s just because you’re not of the Sands,” Crina’s voice was muffled as new tears began to flow.

  “I’m not,” Aren confirmed. “I can’t even claim to understand your culture yet. At first, I only joined this escapade for the final goal and the chance to enter the veil and possibly learn something great. But now, while I still care about that, I want to protect you, to help you make the world a little better, and to spend more time with you. I should have had this talk with you earlier, before it got to this.”

  “Have you seen Louis’ warriors?” Aren asked, shifting the topic.

  “They were busy training,” Crina said. “They only talked about strategy.”

  “And why do you think that is?” Aren continued. “While the holy warriors have been coming to the training grounds less and less, Louis’ people keep training just as fiercely, if not more so. They still admire you. It may be from a different viewpoint than my own, but they are people of the Sands, aren’t they?”

  “I… I did not think about that,” Crina said.

  “Negativity has a way of narrowing your view,” Aren replied, extending his hand. “Do you want to talk?”

  She nodded, tears spilling over again, and took his hand. He helped her to stand up. At that moment, the tent flap was pulled open.

  “Who is in here?” Protector Rati demanded, her voice sharp. When she saw him, her brows knit together. “Sunbearer Ren. Why are you here alone, talking to yourself?”

  Crina instinctively stepped behind him, the medallion reactivating once more. Aren met the red-haired woman’s gaze, the anger he had felt earlier rising again. This could not be ignored. Having people like her in the camp was not just unhelpful, it was actively harmful.

  “Crina, I will send you to Mar’tei for now,” Aren said. With a wave of his hand, he used chronotope wizardry to swap space, teleporting his friend to his apprentice’s tent, along with a quick mental message.

  “What, the Luminous One is… was here?” Protector Rati said, surprised, though she kept her official tone.

  Aren ignored the woman. He stepped out of the tent and quickly found Marie, who was waiting near Crina’s tent. Her golden aura was still active, her brow furrowed when she saw he was alone.

  “What is going on?” she asked.

  “Crina is fine. For now, she is with Mar’tei,” Aren said. “There is something that must be done. Can you perform some form of group truth telling?”

  Marie's eyes flashed. “That is possible if I invoke a spiritual domain. What does that have to do with this?”

  Aren's face was serious. “I think it would be best if everyone who has doubts about Crina leaves the camp. It is not only harming her emotionally. We cannot trust people who may no longer be willing to lay down their lives.”

  The exemplar studied him in silence, weighing his words. For a moment, he expected her to refuse, to argue that they needed every capable warrior they could muster. After a long pause, she gave a measured nod.

  The gathering formed quickly, the exemplar’s orders still followed with reverence. Everyone in the camp except Mar’tei and Crina stood before him and Marie. Some looked at him in confusion, but none spoke or stepped out of formation, all waiting for the exemplar to speak.

  Marie raised her hand, and her aura stretched outward, a wave of golden, holy energy settling over the large area. Each figure was lit in a soft white light, Aren included. He guessed it would change color depending on whether someone told a lie.

  “Sunbearer Ren has a question for all of you,” Marie said, stepping back to give him space.

  Aren stared at her; he did not expect this. He stepped forward, wondering why Marie was doing it this way, was she probing him for something, maybe? He looked over the crowd and saw Marc staring at him with an intense gaze, a few others gave him questioning looks, but he decided to ignore all of that for now.

  “I have a question for all of you. Those who cannot answer positively will be required to return to Karsuun.” Aren saw a tremor run through the people and, not wanting it to devolve into chaos, continued. “Can you swear, without excuse, that you find the Luminous One, Crina, worthy of protection, worthy of laying down your life for her?”

  Instead of having to answer, the light changed colors on its own, instantly revealing the opinion they held. Protector Rati was bathed in a red glow and stared in shock. A few others shared the same fate: five of the holy warriors whose names he didn’t know, three of Louis’ people, and two priests. The rest were surrounded by gold, and, to his surprise, even Marc.

  Only Bar’tik’s glow remained white, but Aren realized the question did not concern the battle-crazed berserker, he would fight the assassins for pleasure and do whatever it took to keep his sister alive and happy.

  Protector Rati stepped forward. “You don’t have the right to demand that.”

  “But I have, and I support this motion. This mission requires true conviction,” Marie interrupted, golden, manifested faith trailing her words.

  The red-haired warrioress knelt. “Honored Exemplar, I normally wouldn’t dare, but please reconsider. This foreigner doesn’t care about the Luminous One or her duty.”

  “You are right,” Aren answered, a gold glow covering him. “I care about Crina, my friend, and I will do everything I can to keep her alive from whatever danger may come, and right now, you are harming her.”

  Protector Rati gritted her teeth, but she didn’t dare do anything more. She bowed and faced the Exemplar. Marie instead looked at Aren, and her eyes, despite the golden shine, widened slightly. A look he wasn’t sure of crossed her face, but she quickly regained her authoritative posture and turned to the gathering.

  “Those who glowed red have thirty minutes to gather your things and depart. You may take your skalith with you,” Marie said. Then the glow around everyone evaporated, and only rain remained. She then stepped forward to free the few people who needed release from their geas.

  At first, the people stared in disbelief, but soon the Exemplar’s orders were followed. Those who were told to leave had shame and anger streaked across their faces. For a moment, Aren wondered whether he should ensure they didn’t join the assassins, but he decided to let it go. If they did, they would face him then.

  The warriors who stayed watched the departing people with conflicted expressions. Some were clearly judging, but Louis and his people looked on with sorrow. They had never felt worthy of being here in the first place.

  Aren didn’t waste any more time, he was scanning the area anyway, so security-wise they were fine. The departing group was strong enough to return to the city safely. Stepping over to Mar’tei’s tent, he entered, and was instantly surprised by the cold air inside.

  Crina was wrapped in a blanket, a warm cup of tea in her hands. She sneezed just as he entered. The two girls were clearly mid-conversation, and he wondered if maybe he should have waited a moment longer, but it was too late. He rubbed his wet arms and clothes, the chill getting to him as well.

  “Ah, should I make it warmer? Crina denied me when I tried,” Mar’tei offered. “I was feeling a bit sentimental.”

  Just as Aren was about to agree, Crina spoke, “Today is the anniversary of Mar’tei’s mom’s death.”

  Aren paused. “I see… no need. I’ve heard some warriors use cold exposure as part of their training.”

  “I think they either go into high mountains or dive into frozen lakes. This is spring weather where I’m from,” Mar’tei said with a teasing smile.

  “Well, we have to start somewhere,” Aren sighed.

  “What happened?” Crina asked.

  “Governor Bar’s daughter and a few others departed,” Aren said simply.

  Crina’s eyes widened, and for a moment grief crossed her face, but she shook her head. “Maybe it’s for the best. I did promise that anyone can leave when they wish to.”

  Aren decided to shift the focus. “Do you think we can continue where we left off? I still want to learn more about the people who raised you.”

  Crina hesitated and looked at Mar’tei, who nodded. “It’s good to remember your ancestors. If we don’t remember the good things about them, who will?”

  Crina nearly choked at that, and slowly she began to speak, about her mother, whom she barely remembered beyond warm, calloused hands and a shining smile. About her father, who did his best to take care of her and loved the sun and skies more than anyone. About her caretaker, and how her adoptive fathers took her in when she traveled far into the north alone, and who took care of her when she became sick for the first time.

  “My fathers, Milo and Ilias… they once heard me mutter my father’s name in my sleep. I told them, and they accepted me without question. They never spoke of it to anyone,” the young woman said, a weak smile on her face.

  “Thank you for accepting me,” Crina said, bowing slightly. “But I can’t shake the guilt from my heart.”

  Mar’tei shook her head and said, “Even now, after all these years, I sometimes let my ‘what ifs’ convince me that if I had taken better care of my mother, she might have lived through her sickness.”

  Midway through the conversation, Aren sensed Marie approaching their tent but stopped and instead guarded it from the outside. He hadn’t used a privacy ward, so the Exemplar could hear them.

  “Thank you for telling us, they sound like wonderful people” Aren said. After a moment of silence, the two women stared at him expectantly.

  “What?”

  “Won’t you share something too?” Mar’tei asked.

  Aren hesitated. He didn’t have a past as heavy as theirs, but there was a moment he remembered.

  “I failed once. Early in our adventuring journey, we were sent to protect evacuating villagers from a stampede of worms. The monsters were fleeing their habitat because a larger threat had invaded the forest.

  “We were escorting them when a worm noticed us. They were mutated ents, their magic usually focused on plants, but the dragon corruption had enabled them to use all elements. My offensive spells back then were mostly elemental, so when I cast my strongest four-circle fire spell, the flames turned back on me. I survived with a quick defense, but I was badly burned. My friends were busy protecting me and eventually had to retreat, while I remained conscious, barely. I saw everything the monsters did to the people we were supposed to protect, how they tortured them, and how they delighted in keeping my friends occupied with defending me.”

  Aren took a deep breath. “I swore I would never fail like that again, yet I did, time and time again. It’s a common story among adventurers, really.”

  “You say you admire me, but you’re the amazing one, Aren,” Crina said. “You’ve dedicated your life to protecting us from humanity’s worst threats. You’ve become this strong, and you can’t just chalk it up to talent.”

  “I did work hard,” Aren admitted. “But in the end, while humanity needs to become stronger, it also needs to change. Our history is full of pointless bloodshed. My power won’t change that, but what you do can.”

  After a moment, Aren stood up, sensing a commotion outside and seeing Marie use the sign he had designed to summon him, laid out in his detailed strategic plans. “Let’s look outside.”

  Aren opened the tent flap and saw the exemplar standing with her back to a large gathering. Donnavan knelt at the front, Marc and every warrior in the camp behind him, the white glow from before once again lighting their forms.

  “This was Donnavan’s idea,” Marie informed surprised Crina.

  “I only brought it forth. It was Lan’s and Louis’s words that spurred this,” Donnavan said, his glow turning golden.

  Then he lowered his head, and everyone else followed, speaking in unison, “We pledge our allegiance to the Luminous One, Crina, to uphold her ideals and carry out her will across the Sands.”

  At once, a golden glow blinded Aren, far stronger and more concentrated than before. As his vision cleared, he saw Crina standing at the tent’s entrance, her face full of shock and disbelief. He turned back and smiled, somehow, the rain felt a little lighter than before.