Astra’s calm gaze scanned the city. Her eyes were unreadable as she waited on the rooftop of a house.

  She was waiting for Ausma. For the paths he would show her, the routes that would allow her to slip past the Order’s knights and guards unseen.

  Her attention lingered on a mother and her child below.

  The woman guided the girl through the street with one hand while the child tugged at her fingers with the other, pointing eagerly toward a stall overflowing with sweets.

  Warmth shone in the mother’s eyes as she looked down at her daughter.

  Astra turned away.

  She knew she would never feel like that little girl.

  Not anymore.

  A flutter of wings drew her attention upward. Moments later, Ausma descended in a smooth arc, slowing just before reaching her. He settled his talons gently against her arm.

  Astra managed a faint smile and brushed her fingers through the feathers at his neck.

  "How does it look?" she murmured.

  Ausma fixed her with his golden eyes and released a short, quiet call.

  She nodded, her expression darkening as she lifted her gaze to the pale blue sky, where light reflected off the snow-covered city below.

  "I know you'd rather stay with him," she said softly. "But there's nothing we can do for him right now. He needs time, and he’ll have enough of it once we leave.”

  Her voice dropped to a whisper, meant more for herself than the falcon.

  "I'm no different."

  Ausma lowered his head as if to share in her grief.

  Astra looked back at him. "We have to go. There isn’t much time left.”

  She raised her arm and sent Ausma into the air. He caught the wind at once and circled above her as he waited.

  With swift, practiced movements, Astra leaped from the rooftop into the narrow alleyway below and pulled her hood over her head. She welcomed the cold; most people wore hoods in this weather, making anonymity easier to achieve.

  She lifted her eyes to Ausma, who glided ahead, careful never to move faster than she could follow.

  Invisible, she navigated through crowds, always alert and calculating. With Ausma’s guidance, she avoided knights before they came into view. She slipped into doorways or shadows when guards appeared too suddenly to predict.

  Progress was slow. The streets were crawling with patrols—far more than usual.

  She had already abandoned the hope of remaining entirely unseen. Guards repeatedly stopped civilians, holding up crude sketches of her and Kael. Each time, the people only shook their heads.

  As she moved, an unbidden memory surfaced.

  Lia’s expression when she saw Zaros’s lifeless body on the ground.

  Kael walking away without looking back.

  It wasn't because he didn't care.

  It was because he was afraid that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to keep moving.

  He was afraid that if he turned around, he would forget the sacrifices he had to carry forward.

  He didn’t turn back.

  He fled from his emotions, and the mission became the only thing that mattered to him.

  But Astra had looked back.

  Lia’s expression struck her without mercy.

  It held fear, grief, and horror all at once. And realization.

  The kind of realization that hits when you understand that you have lost everything.

  The realization of absolute loneliness.

  Astra shook her head slowly, as if she could dispel the memory with the power of her mind alone.

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  I don't believe Lia would be capable of exposing us, she thought.

  But then, who did?

  For a brief moment, the image of a familiar blonde woman flickered through her mind.

  Astra exhaled.

  I trust him.

  She reached into her coat, unfolded a small piece of paper, and studied it with narrowed eyes. Then she slipped it back into her pocket and continued toward the meeting point described on it.

  After some time, she left the outer district and arrived at a house that looked unremarkable from the outside. Too unremarkable.

  She disappeared beside it and climbed through a half-open window, as the note instructed.

  Inside, the house was immaculate.

  The floors gleamed, the windows were spotless, and the furniture was refined.

  Yet it was empty in a deeper sense—there were no pictures, no plants, and no traces of life.

  Only what was necessary remained. No personality.

  Astra crossed the room and entered a larger chamber where two sofas faced a low table. Between them, two bowls of tea and neatly arranged pastries waited.

  Her gaze shifted to the window.

  A man stood with his back to her, looking down at the streets below.

  "So," he said without turning around, his voice calm and monotonous. "You came."

  She nodded, her breathing steady though every muscle in her body was tense.

  She had never been able to truly read him. He had helped her many times, but always for his own benefit.

  "Since I'm no longer a student of the Academy," Astra said coolly, "I suppose I don't need to address you as Professor anymore. Do I, Nora?”

  Nora turned around. His face was as it always was—cool and unreadable.

  "Indeed," he replied. "We may dispense with formalities now, Miss Astra. You are the last member of the Spoken after all”

  Ignoring the provocation, she seated herself in one of the chairs, her eyes fixed on him.

  "Why did you summon me?"

  Nora sat down and lifted her teacup. Before drinking, he raised his gaze to meet hers.

  "I wanted to know how he is," he said. "I anticipated that this night would change him. But to kill his closest friend with his own hands—someone he loved like a brother?"

  A faint gleam lit his eyes.

  "That exceeded even my expectations."

  Astra’s expression darkened.

  She had always known that behind Nora’s calm, indifferent exterior was a man whose devotion to knowledge bordered on obsession.

  But this...this went too far.

  "Did you betray us?" she asked evenly, though her heart pounded hard against her ribs.

  If this was a trap, her chances of defeating Nora were slim.

  He only took a sip of his tea.

  His usual calm expression returned, smooth and unreadable.

  "I would gain nothing from betraying you," Nora said evenly. "After all, I am hardly innocent in this affair myself."

  Astra continued to study him suspiciously, but she knew he was right.

  Nora set the cup down on the table.

  "The rebels meant nothing to me," he continued. "I found their ideology rather simplistic."

  Before Astra could respond, he raised a finger.

  "But even so, I wish to see how this story ends."

  His eyes gleamed faintly.

  "Will the two of you survive this journey and return as great redeemers, or will you perish on the path to significance?"

  He shrugged lightly.

  "I want to see how he will influence this world. For that to happen, you must survive first.”

  Astra remained silent.

  "I have arranged transportation for you at dawn tomorrow," Nora added. "It will head north. The carriage will stop in front of Augs’ shop. It will be transporting herbs in my name. You will hide among the cargo."

  Astra said nothing, her gaze wary.

  It was hardly surprising that Nora knew of their plans. The north was the only sensible direction left.

  Still, she did not trust him.

  "What about the others?" she finally asked, hoping he might know more.

  Nora began to laugh.

  Softly. Penetratingly.

  Astra frowned in irritation, but he merely gestured toward the window and said nothing.

  Confused, Astra moved toward the window.

  Her breath caught.

  On the far side of the house, a massive square was packed with people.

  Her gaze swept across the crowd, searching for meaning, until it froze.

  At the center stood a raised platform.

  A pyre.

  Dread tightened around her chest. She opened the window to hear the proclamation.

  A loud voice rang across the square.

  "My beloved people," the Notifier declared while reading the Scroll in his hands. "It is with the deepest shame that I announce this in the king's stead. His Majesty grieves with his wife and daughter and cannot bear to leave them, not even for a moment.”

  Many in the crowd fell to their knees, arms raised.

  "Our king would never abandon us!" they cried.

  “The traitors are to blame!”

  "Yet, his heart burns with hatred toward those who dared to endanger the peace and prosperity of our people. This sin will never be tolerated."

  Thunderous cheers erupted.

  Astra closed her eyes briefly.

  She had known it would come to this.

  "He will set an example," the man proclaimed. "Let it be known: All who seek to fracture the unity and faith of this people will meet the same fate."

  The cheering grew deafening.

  Astra glanced back at Nora.

  He sat unmoved in his chair, calmly sipping his tea.

  Her gaze snapped forward again as the announcer raised his hand.

  "Before you stands one such traitor."

  Two knights emerged, dragging a battered figure between them.

  Astra’s breath caught in an involuntary, quiet sob.

  Mal.

  She was covered in wounds from head to toe, her body soaked in dried and fresh blood.

  Tufts of her once-beautiful hair had been torn out, and her face was so battered by torture that it was barely recognizable.

  But it was her eyes that made Astra shiver.

  The warmth that had once been there was gone.

  They were hollow and empty as if every trace of her will had been broken and erased forever.

  Astra shook her head slowly, sorrow tightening her chest.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered, barely audible.

  The crowd jeered. Stones were thrown and struck Mal’s body, but she did not react.

  Her gaze did not change. Not even for a moment.

  Astra closed her eyes.

  At least she won't have to endure any more pain.

  The announcer turned toward Mal, the scroll clenched in his hands, and continued reading.

  “Member of the rebels. Just as you burned the heart of this empire and his majesty's heart with fire, so too shall you meet your end in fire.”

  The knights bound Mal’s weakened body to the pyre.

  Then, they lit the wood.

  Astra’s hope shattered.

  When the flames reached Mal, she screamed.

  The sound was raw. Agonizing.

  It was so full of suffering that Astra could not bear to hear it.

  She turned away from the window and disappeared from sight. Behind her, Mal burned while Nora watched the scene with an unreadable expression.