Lyrielle awoke from her unconscious state with a loud, wet cough that rattled through her chest. Blood-flecked spittle sprayed across her lips. At the sound, Kai rushed to her side immediately, his boots crunching on the debris that littered the cottage floor. She had been slipping in and out of consciousness all this while—fading, surfacing, fading again—but this time her eyes stayed open.
"Where am I?" she asked, her voice still hazy, thick with sleep and pain.
"It's alright. You're at your cottage," Kai replied, kneeling beside her makeshift bed.
Lyrielle took a slow, careful scan of her surroundings. The walls were still shattered. The roof was still partially collapsed. Dawn light filtered through the gaps, casting pale gold stripes across the destruction. Then, as she tried to move, pain lanced through her abdomen—sharp, deep, nauseating. She looked down and saw her midsection in very bad shape. The wrappings Rowan had applied were soaked through, and the flesh beneath was still a grotesque patchwork of half-healed wounds.
Then she remembered fighting Silas.
"Silas?" she asked.
"Rowan's taking care of him," Kai replied.
Lyrielle closed her eyes for a moment, processing. She reached inward, feeling for the familiar thrum of her aura. It was there—weak, sluggish, but present. "Rowan must have broken the seal. I don't feel the pressure on my abilities anymore. Though I have wasted a lot of aura already."
"Then Rowan should be okay," Kai said, a little bit of relief creeping into his voice.
"No." Lyrielle's eyes opened, sharp despite her exhaustion. "The opponent is not your average brawler. And his weapon is very dangerous." She paused, measuring her words. "It's going to be a bad matchup for Rowan."
Kai's relief vanished.
Then Lyrielle noticed that only Kai was present. The others were gone. The cottage, for all its destruction, felt emptier than it should. "Where are the rest?"
There was a brief pause. Kai sighed—a long, heavy exhale that carried the weight of too many close calls. "Raynell is in a bad state after our trip to the Forest of Shoggoths. We were coming to get treatment from you, but then we discovered the chaos." He gestured vaguely toward the destruction around them. "You were in a pretty bad shape yourself."
Lyrielle glanced down at her abdomen. The wound was slowly healing—a faint green glow pulsed beneath the makeshift bandages—but it still looked grotesque. A good two meters across her midsection. The skin was pulled tight, the edges still raw. She could see her own intestines if she looked too long.
"I feel like a pretty bad shape," she said dryly. Then, more urgently: "Where is Raynell now?"
"Aries took her into town. The rest of the evacuated villagers took refuge there. She went to seek help."
"Was it that serious?" Lyrielle's face tightened with concern.
"Rowan said she had spent almost all of her aura."
Lyrielle's blood ran cold. "That's bad. If she doesn't get help at the town, it's going to be very bad." She tried to sit up, failed, and fell back against the rubble. "Where are the rest of the boys?"
Kai stayed silent, his gaze dropping to the floor.
"Kai?" Lyrielle's voice sharpened. "Where are your friends?"
Kai exhaled. "Axle went back to the cottage with James. Rowan went to go get them. And Koby followed."
He said it quickly, summarizing as much as possible, as if saying it faster would make it less dangerous.
Lyrielle closed her eyes. A migraine was already building behind them, throbbing in time with her heartbeat. She held her head in her palm and sighed. "Why would they scatter themselves like that with Silas on the loose?" She took a breath, then another. "You know what—one thing at a time. Let's get to Raya first."
She made to move.
The pain stopped her.
She groaned, low and guttural, and fresh blood seeped from the wounds on her abdomen and arm. The wrappings darkened instantly. Kai's hand shot out, steadying her shoulder.
"You're still in a critical state, Lyrielle," he said, worry etched deep into his brows.
"I'm healing better than before. Thanks to the seal's effect breaking." She spoke through clenched teeth, forcing the words out. "I'll be fine. But I have to get to Raya before her condition worsens."
"You're clearly not fine, Lyrielle." Kai's voice rose, frustration bleeding through. "You could tip over and die at any moment."
"I am fine." Lyrielle met his eyes. Her gaze was steady, unblinking, and beneath the exhaustion there was something harder—an aristocratic edge, the ghost of a woman who had once commanded armies and never been questioned. "Now help me save Raynell."
Kai held her stare for a long moment. Then, seeing her determination, he decided to let her go. He couldn't stop her. He wasn't even sure he should try.
She pointed to a broken drawer by the corner of the destroyed room. "Get me some clothes in there."
Kai hurried over, stepping over debris and shattered furniture, and returned with a bundle of clean cloth. Lyrielle took them and began examining her wounds more carefully. Someone had done crude work on her—Rowan, she assumed. The poison had been cut out. The worst of the damage had been removed. But most of her internal organs were still damaged. If the seal had stayed on for even a few minutes more, she might have died.
Her healing was still slow. Too slow. Low aura reserves. Extensive damage. She could still feel her intestines shifting when she breathed. A kidney and part of her liver were in bad shape. The pain was constant—a dull, throbbing presence that never quite faded.
She tore some of the cloth into strips and used them to change the wrappings around her abdomen. The old bandages came away soaked through, heavy and dark. She tossed them aside and began winding the fresh cloth around her midsection, pulling it tight enough to hurt. Tight enough that her guts wouldn't spill out as she moved.
Her hands trembled, but she didn't stop.
She did the same with her arm, winding strip after strip around the wound, tightening each layer until the bleeding slowed to a seep. Her face twitched. Her ear twitched. Pain fired through her entire body with every small movement.
But she was upright.
Struggling to her feet, she felt the full weight of her injuries settle into her bones. Kai moved to her side, offering his shoulder for support. She took it without argument.
They walked out of the cottage together.
The morning light hit them first—pale, golden, too bright after the darkness of the ruined building. Then they looked up.
The top of Blackstone Mountain was shattered.
The peak that had stood for centuries, that had been a landmark for miles in every direction, was gone. In its place was a jagged wound, raw stone exposed to the sky, debris scattered down the slopes like the aftermath of a volcanic eruption. Dust still hung in the air, catching the sunlight and turning it hazy.
One thought raced through both their heads, unspoken but shared:
Would Rowan and the boys be okay?
Lyrielle didn't answer the question. She couldn't. Instead, she leaned on Kai, and together they shuffled through the forest toward the town, leaving the shattered mountain behind.
In the town, Aries had somehow managed to carry Raynell all the way there on her back. Her legs burned. Her shoulders ached. Her breath came in ragged gasps. But she had made it.
Now she stood at the edge of a makeshift refugee camp, looking for help.
The townspeople had created space for the evacuated mountain villagers in an open region at the entrance of the town. Tents had been erected from spare canvas. Fires had been lit for cooking. Children huddled close to their parents, and old men sat in circles, speaking in low, worried voices.
Tensions were already high. Rumors spread like wildfire—fear and uncertainty standing firm among the villagers. What exactly was the danger at Blackstone Mountain? No one knew for certain. Everyone had a different answer.
Aries searched a while among the refugees, scanning faces, looking for one in particular. Her grandmother.
Then a voice called from behind her.
"Aries?"
She turned.
Her grandmother stood a few meters away, her weathered face creased with worry, her hands clasped in front of her. She looked older than Aries remembered—more fragile, more tired. But she was alive. She was safe.
They rushed toward each other and embraced tightly. Aries felt hot tears slip down her cheeks before she could stop them. Light streams of wetness tracked through the grime on her face.
"Thank goodness you're alright," her grandmother whispered into her hair.
"I'm alright." Aries pulled back, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "But nothing's alright."
"What happened?"
"I'll tell you everything later." Aries glanced over her shoulder at Raynell, still unconscious, still lying where Aries had set her down in the shade of a canvas tarp. "But I need to find a healer for my friend first."
Her grandmother followed her gaze. "What happened to her?"
"She used too much aura. She's dying."
The words hung in the air, stark and unforgiving.
Her grandmother moved to Raynell's side, kneeling on the hard-packed earth. She placed the back of her palm against Raynell's forehead. Her expression tightened.
"It's going to be hard to find a healer here, Aries."
Aries frowned. "Shouldn't the Whisper Guild be attending to the evacuees? There should be a healer ready."
Her grandmother shook her head slowly. "Since we reached town, there hasn't been any help or response from the Whisper Guild. They keep saying the same thing—they're currently short-staffed. We've only received help from the townies, but there's not much they can do."
"Short-staffed?" Aries stared at her, disbelief plain on her face. "The Whisper Guild?"
"A few townies tried to convince them. They were turned back. Disappointed." Her grandmother's voice was quiet, grim.
Aries looked down at Raynell. Her friend's breathing was shallow, her skin pale, her lips cracked. Every moment wasted was another step closer to the edge.
"This is not good," Aries murmured.
She stood there for a long moment, deep in thought. The Whisper Guild was supposed to be reliable. They were supposed to handle emergencies like this. If they weren't helping, something was wrong. Something beyond the mountain.
If she wasted any more time, it could be fatal for Raya.
She made a decision.
"Grandma, please watch over her while I go see what's going on."
Her grandmother nodded, already settling down beside Raynell, checking her pulse again with practiced fingers.
Aries turned and walked toward the center of town, leaving the refugee camp behind.
The Whisper Guild headquarters rose in the distance—a stone building older than the town itself, its windows dark, its doors shut.
She had questions.
And she wasn't leaving without answers or help.