The Dawn of Malice

The Burning Sea

Ryker nearly squealed with joy as the town of Lyndhythe came into view.

The train’s metallic screeching filled the air as it came to a halt, billowing clouds of steam enveloping the bustling station of Lyndhythe. Caerus and Ryker had endured the journey, feeling the rhythmic vibrations of the train beneath them and the intermittent swaying that had caused Ryker a fair share of motion sickness.

As the doors creaked open, Ryker practically bounded off the train, his expression a mix of relief and triumph. “Thank the stars above, I never want to ride a contraption like that again!” he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of enthusiasm and exasperation.

Caerus chuckled, stepping onto the platform with a more measured pace. He glanced back at the train conductor, who was rolling his eyes at Ryker’s dramatic display. “You know, Ryker, I think you might be the first person to ever declare victory over a train.”

Ryker shot him an amused look, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Oh, come on, Caerus. You have to admit, it’s not the most comfortable ride, especially for those of us who prefer solid ground beneath our feet.”

Caerus nodded in agreement, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Fair point. But I have to say, you’re a walking contradiction, an artificer who hates riding on trains, who knew?” Ryker glared at Caerus a bit, then smiled. “Still, this motion-sick artificer is looking forward to a change of scenery. Lyndhythe seems like a quaint little port town.”

Caerus stretched his arms above his head. Their journey on the train had come to an end, and now it was time to retrieve their faithful motorcycles from one of the train carriages.

Ryker’s brow furrowed as he eyed the motorcycle, his expression a mix of determination and uncertainty. “I forgot how heavy these things can be,” he muttered, his grip on the handlebars tightening.

Caerus gave him an understanding nod, his own hands wrapped around the handlebars of his motorcycle. The weight was certainly considerable, and with some luck and Laresian strength, Caerus effortlessly pushed the motorcycle down the ramp. However, he kept his focus on the ground doing his best to not draw unnecessary attention.

Together, they maneuvered the motorcycles off the train carriage, the metallic clatter of wheels against steel echoing in the air. Ryker grunted with effort, struggling slightly to keep his motorcycle steady as they descended the platform’s ramp. Caerus ran back up the train carriage placing his hands on the back of the motorcycle helping Ryker push.

Caerus felt the weight of the motorcycle in his hands, but he didn’t let on that he was slowly pumping lifeblood through his veins. He knew that Ryker was proud, and he didn’t want to diminish his friend’s efforts by revealing his trickery. As they reached the ground, Ryker let out a sigh of relief, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.

“Phew, thanks for the help,” Ryker said, shooting Caerus a grateful smile.

Caerus just nodded, offering a small smile in return. “No problem, Ryker. Teamwork, right?”

Ryker’s smile faded slightly as he glanced at Caerus. “Yeah, but I have to admit, you’re pretty lucky with that Laresian strength of yours. Must be nice to have such an advantage.”

“I didn’t think you’d notice.” Caerus’s expression shifted, his brows knitting together. He understood that Ryker’s comment wasn’t meant to be malicious, but it still stung a bit. “Well, it’s not like I asked to be a Laresian,” he replied, his tone slightly defensive.

Ryker’s eyes widened in realization, and he let out a nervous chuckle. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that, Caerus. I’m sorry if I came across the wrong way.”

Caerus sighed, his frustration dissipating as he saw Ryker’s genuine remorse. “It’s fine, Ryker. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. Let’s just focus on getting these bikes ready and continuing our journey.”

Ryker nodded, a grateful smile on his face. “You’re right. Thanks for being understanding, Caerus.”

Caerus clapped a hand on Ryker’s shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. “Always, my friend. Now, let’s get these motorcycles prepped. We’ve got a long road ahead of us.”

They started their engines with the crowd of onlookers staring at their strange vehicles. As they began to navigate the bustling station, the air was alive with the calls of vendors and the chatter of travelers. Caerus couldn’t help but appreciate the vibrant atmosphere, a stark contrast to the confined space of the train. He caught sight of a sign pointing toward the exit, indicating the way to the heart of Lyndhythe.

As they rode out onto the cobblestone streets, Caerus took in the picturesque scene before him. The town was nestled beside the glittering sea, the salty breeze carrying the tang of saltwater and adventure. Fishermen were hauling in their catches, their boats bobbing gently on the water, while merchants displayed their wares along the waterfront.

Ryker took a deep breath, his weariness from the train ride dissipating in the fresh sea air. “Now, this is more like it,” he remarked, his eyes scanning the surroundings with renewed energy.

Caerus chuckled, glancing at his friend. “Glad to see you’ve found your sea legs, Ryker.”

Ryker grinned, his earlier discomfort all but forgotten. “You know it. Let’s explore this town a bit before we continue on our journey.”

Caerus agreed, and together they set off down the bustling streets of Lyndhythe, their excitement for new adventures overshadowing the memory of the train ride.

Caerus and Ryker parked their motorcycle by a fish stall as they explored the inner parts of the town. Ryker made sure to toss a coin to the fishmonger manning the store, and the old fishmonger winked and went back to his wares. The narrow streets of the marketplace were lined with a variety of shops and stalls, each offering a glimpse into the town’s unique character. Caerus and Ryker meandered through the bustling thoroughfares, taking in the sights and sounds of the coastal town.

Caerus’s eyes wandered over the intricate displays in a jewelry stall they had passed. His fingers brushed against the cool glass of a display case, and his gaze settled on a beautiful sterling watch. Its delicate engravings danced across the silver surface, and he found himself captivated by its craftsmanship.

“I’ll buy this,” Caerus smiled – happy to have bought something only for himself.

“Thank you for your patronage, Sir.” The young man in charge of the teller smiled at Caerus as he accepted his coin.

His gaze drifted to Ryker, who stood beside him, his eyes fixed on a pendant decorated with an opal that shimmered with an ethereal aquamarine sheen. Caerus raised an eyebrow inquisitively, curious about Ryker’s choice. When Ryker noticed his friend’s questioning look, he grinned mischievously.

“This,” Ryker said, his fingers delicately tracing the contours of the pendant, “is a memento for when we return to Serendell. A little gift for someone special.”

Caerus’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Ah, for Ximena, I presume?”

Ryker’s cheeks reddened slightly, but he nodded with a playful glint in his eyes. “You know me too well.” Ryker made his purchase and together they walked away from the stall.

As they continued their exploration of Lyndhythe, Caerus’s mind began to wander. He couldn’t help but reflect on the events that had brought them here. The stolen guard’s money that now jingled in his pocket weighed on his conscience, a constant reminder of the desperation and chaos that had unfolded in Verdania. While he appreciated the beautiful watch he had acquired, its presence served as a bittersweet reminder of the choices he had made.

His thoughts turned to Elaine, the image of her blonde hair and determined eyes flashing before him. He could almost feel the warmth of her touch and the softness of her lips against his. A pang of longing tugged at his heart, aching for her presence beside him.

Ryker nudged him playfully, snapping him out of his reverie. “Hey, Caerus, you with me?”

Caerus blinked and refocused his attention on Ryker. He shook his head, trying to dispel the melancholic thoughts that had momentarily overtaken him. “Yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.”

Ryker grinned. “Well, snap out of it. We’ve got more of Lyndhythe to explore.”

As they continued their exploration of the town, Caerus tucked his troubling thoughts away, determined to make the most of their time in Lyndhythe. He marveled at the quaint charm of the town, the sounds of laughter, and the scent of saltwater filling the air. They were far from the Laresian invasion that plagued the lands they’d come from.

The moon hung high in the sky as Caerus and Ryker rode their motorcycle through the quiet streets of Lyndhythe. The town was shrouded in a peaceful stillness, its usual hustle and bustle replaced by an eerie calm. The glow of lamplights cast elongated shadows on the cobblestone streets, and the night air carried a hint of salt from the nearby sea.

They had spent the evening exploring the town, searching for an inn or tavern where they could rest for the night. After a series of inquiries and a few wrong turns, they finally found a cozy inn with a warm hearth and a welcoming atmosphere.

As they settled into their room, Ryker flopped onto the bed with a contented sigh. The day’s journey seemed to have taken its toll on him, and his eyes drooped heavily as he succumbed to sleep. Caerus watched his friend for a moment, a fond smile tugging at his lips. Ryker’s ability to fall asleep so effortlessly never failed to amuse him.

Caerus turned his attention to the window, the darkness outside reflecting his contemplative mood. The events of their journey weighed heavily on his mind. He thought of Elaine and if the effects of overusing her powers have subsided, a testament to the unpredictability of magic in their world. He remembered Caspian’s final moments in the Civic Athenaeum, the weight of that loss still fresh in his heart. And then there was Ximena, her resilience in the face of adversity, her determination to create and innovate despite the life-changing injury she suffered.

Tears welled in Caerus’s eyes as he thought of Ximena’s lost leg, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices, he stared at Ryker wondering why his friend hadn’t blamed him for her injury. A torrent of emotion washed over him. With trembling fingers, Caerus reached up to brush away the tears. Closing the shutter of the lamp on the nightstand, he watched the flame flicker and die in its glass cage. The room plunged into darkness, save for the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains.

Sinking onto the edge of his bed, Caerus let out a heavy sigh. The weight of their journey, the battles fought, and the losses endured, pressed down on him. He felt a mixture of sorrow and determination, a need to keep moving forward even when the path ahead was uncertain.

Climbing beneath the covers, Caerus stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts racing. Sleep eluded him, despite the weariness in his body. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his mind, to find solace in the darkness. But the memories, the hopes, and the fears swirled around him, refusing to be silenced.

As the night stretched on, Caerus remained awake, the world around him shrouded in silence. He felt the weight of his responsibilities, the burdens of his past, and the uncertainties of the future. With each passing moment, he found himself caught between longing and determination, searching for the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

And so, as the moonlight painted patterns on the walls and the night deepened, Caerus lay there in contemplation, his thoughts a constant companion in the quiet hours before dawn.

The following day, the denizens of Lyndhythe were interrupted by the roar of the companions’ motorcycle engines that echoed through the cobbled streets as they sped away from the town. The wind whipped against their faces, the thrill of movement coursing through their veins. Caerus felt a momentary sense of freedom, the open road stretching before them like an uncharted path.

But as they ventured farther from the town, the noise of the engine gradually subsided, leaving behind a tense silence that was broken only by the soft rustle of leaves in the winter breeze. Caerus’s grip on the motorcycle’s handles tightened, a nagging feeling of unease settling in the pit of his stomach.

Suddenly, the sound of a cracking whip reached his ears, followed by the distinct shuffling of footsteps. Caerus instinctively pulled the motorcycle to a stop, exchanging a wary glance with Ryker. Something was amiss, and the air was thick with an impending confrontation.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Ryker dismounted and climbed up an embankment, his eyes widening as he took in the scene unfolding before him. Caerus followed suit, his heart leaping into his throat as he recognized the figures engaged in the heated struggle.

“Lucian!” Caerus exclaimed involuntarily, his voice laced with surprise and concern.

There, amidst the clash of the whip against the blade, stood Lucian, his crimson eyes ablaze with lifeblood. Caerus’s mentor was locked in combat with a man in a trench coat, his eyes shimmering with an iridescent light that marked him as a Laresian. The realization struck Caerus like a lightning bolt – he had seen him before, back in Serendell.

Caerus’s mind raced as he took in the unfolding scene. His thoughts were a jumble of questions and apprehension, his instincts urging him to intervene. He watched as Lucian skillfully parried his assailant’s strikes, his movements fluid and precise despite the odds stacked against him.

Ryker’s voice snapped Caerus out of his reverie. “We need to help him,” his friend declared, his eyes flicking between the combatants.

Caerus nodded – his decision made in an instant. With a determined expression, he revved the motorcycle’s engine, its growl filling the air as he accelerated toward the embankment. Adrenaline surged through his veins as he reached the top, his gaze locked on the ongoing battle.

As he approached, he saw Lucian’s stance falter for a split second, and Nepharae seized the opportunity, his whip slashing through the air and striking him across the chest. Caerus’s heart clenched at the sight, a surge of worry and anger propelling him forward.

Without hesitation, he leaped from the motorcycle, landing with a controlled roll as he charged toward the combatants. “Lucian!” he shouted, his voice a mix of urgency and determination.

Nepharae’s crimson eyes flicked toward Caerus, his surprise was evident for a fleeting moment. Lucian seized the opening, retaliating with a swift and well-placed strike that forced Nepharae to step back.

“Caerus, stay back!” Lucian’s voice carried a note of warning, his crimson eyes locking onto Caerus.

But Caerus was undeterred. He met Lucian’s gaze with unwavering resolve, his determination fueled by a desire to protect. As he closed the distance between them, the air crackled with tension.

Time seemed to stretch as Caerus’s heart pounded in his chest, his senses hyper-focused on the unfolding battle before him. Lucian, his mentor, and friend, stood valiantly against the relentless onslaught of Nepharae, his crimson eyes burning with determination. Caerus’s fingers twitched at his sides, an overwhelming urge to intervene clawing at his conscience.

The sickening sound of the whip against flesh echoed through the air once more, and Caerus winced as Lucian staggered, the force of the blow taking its toll. His mentor fell to the ground, gasping for breath before finally losing consciousness. Caerus’s heart clenched with rage as he knew he couldn’t stand idly by any longer. But before he could take another step forward a roaring engine came flying up the embankment.

Ryker’s timely arrival added a new layer of complexity to the situation. The motorcycle’s engine roared as Ryker deftly maneuvered it up the embankment, a calculated and daring move that caught Caerus, Lucian, and Nepharae off guard. Caerus’s eyes widened in surprise as Ryker leaped from the motorcycle, rolling with practiced grace as he closed in on their assailant.

In a whirlwind of motion, Ryker’s motorcycle struck Nepharae with unrelenting force, the impact sending the Laresian crashing to the ground. The sudden turn of events left Nepharae dazed and disoriented, his glowing crimson eyes wide with shock.

As Nepharae attempted to regain his footing, Caerus’s determination solidified into unwavering resolve. He approached him with measured steps, his dagger glinting in the sunlight. Anger and frustration churned within him, a fierce determination to protect Lucian and put an end to the threat Nepharae posed.

“You’ll fight me next,” Caerus declared, his voice firm and resolute.

Nepharae groaned, a mixture of pain and frustration evident in his expression, yet a twisted smile played at the corners of his lips. Despite his predicament, there was an air of confidence about him, a readiness for battle that belied his injuries.

As Caerus and Nepharae squared off, the tension in the air was palpable. Time seemed to stand still, the world around them fading into a distant blur as their gazes locked. Caerus’s grip on his dagger tightened, his every sense attuned to the imminent clash that awaited.

With a sudden surge of energy, Nepharae lunged forward, his movements swift and fluid. Caerus’s instincts kicked into overdrive as he parried his strike, the dull thud of metal against the leather whip pounding Caerus’s dagger.

The clash of weapons reverberated through the air as Caerus and Nepharae engaged in a fierce battle. Caerus’s heart pounded in his chest, lifeblood, and adrenaline coursing through his veins as he parried Nepharae’s strikes with a mixture of skill and desperation. He thanked Caspian silently as their nightly sparring bore fruit. His focus was unwavering, his every move calculated, as he fought to protect his mentor and put an end to the threat that had pursued them.

Nepharae’s crimson eyes blazed with a mix of anger and determination, his whip crackling through the air like a serpent’s hiss. Caerus’s dagger met the lash of the whip with a resounding clash, sparks flying as metal met leather. Their movements were a blur of motion, a dance of danger and skill that held the potential for both victory and defeat.

Just as the battle seemed to reach a crescendo, a new figure joined the fray – Ryker, his bill hook extending to its full length as he lunged forward to aid Caerus. The unexpected reinforcement shifted the dynamic of the battle, catching Caerus off guard for a split second as Ryker stabbed Nepharae with a flurry of movement.

Seizing the opportunity, Nepharae’s eyes flickered with a cunning glint as he swiftly manipulated his whip. With a swift and expert motion, he managed to hook Ryker’s motorcycle, pulling it between them with a strong heave, using it as a makeshift barrier to keep Caerus and Ryker at bay.

Ryker, fueled by determination, thrust his bill hook forward, his intent to strike at Nepharae thwarted by the unexpected obstacle. In a cruel twist of fate, his weapon accidentally caught on the motorcycle’s crystal holder, causing a spark that ignited the explosive crystal that powered its engine.

In the split second that followed, Caerus was able to grab Ryker and pull him to the ground. The motorcycle erupted in a blaze of fire and smoke, the shockwave deafening Caerus and Ryker, a wave of intense heat washing over their backs. Caerus’s senses were temporarily overwhelmed by the chaos and destruction.

Through the smoke and flames, Caerus’s heart sank as he realized that Nepharae had seized the opportunity to escape amidst the chaos. His grip on his dagger tightened, frustration and anger coursing through him as he watched the Laresians silhouette disappear into the distance.

The scene before him was one of devastation – the remnants of Ryker’s motorcycle engulfed in flames, the acrid scent of smoke filling the air, and the charred ground beneath their feet. Caerus’s breath came in ragged gasps as he and Ryker slowly regained their footing, their eyes scanning the surroundings in search of any sign of Nepharae.

“Damn it,” Ryker muttered, his voice laced with frustration.

Caerus’s jaw clenched – his resolve hardened. Nepharae may have escaped for now, but Caerus was determined to track him down, to put an end to his threat once and for all. As the smoke began to dissipate and the flames subsided, Caerus’s eyes blazed with anger, seeking revenge for all the misfortune brought to them by the horrid Laresian.

The following minutes were a blur to Caerus as they managed to escape into the inn they had rented the previous night. The room was a dim haven amidst the chaos that had erupted only moments ago. Caerus and Ryker had managed to drag Lucian’s limp form inside, their muscles aching from the effort. Luckily, the innkeeper kept her mouth shut about the unconscious man with a few gold coins and Caerus’s sterling watch. The events of the day had taken an unexpected turn, leaving them grappling with uncertainty and danger.

Gently laying Lucian down on a bed, Caerus’s mind raced. Their encounter with Nepharae had been intense, and it seemed that their enemy had slipped through their grasp once again. Caerus clenched his fists, frustration gnawing at him. They couldn’t afford to let their guard down, not even for a moment.

Ryker’s voice broke through Caerus’s thoughts. “We need to decide what to do next.”

Caerus looked at his friend, his expression grave. “You’re right. The trains are likely out of the question now, and we can’t stay here.”

Ryker crossed his arms, his brow furrowing as he considered their options. “We need a way out of this town. If Nepharae is still around, we’re not safe.”

As if to emphasize Ryker’s point, distant cries and commotion echoed through the streets outside. The turmoil was palpable, and Caerus knew that time was of the essence.

Lucian stirred on the bed, groaning as he began to regain consciousness. Caerus moved to his side, concern etching his features. “Lucian, are you okay?”

Lucian’s eyes fluttered open, his gaze meeting Caerus’s. “I’ve been better,” he muttered, attempting to sit up with Caerus’s help.

Ryker stepped forward – his voice urgent. “We need a plan. The longer we stay here, the more dangerous it becomes.”

As if on cue, the cries from the port town grew louder, capturing their attention. Caerus’s mind began to whirl with possibilities, and an idea began to take shape.

“If the town is in chaos, and everyone’s attention is focused on whatever’s happening out there, it might be our chance to slip away,” Caerus suggested.

Ryker’s eyes widened as he caught onto Caerus’s idea. “You mean... steal a boat from the port?”

Caerus nodded. “Exactly. If the trains are out, and we can’t rely on them, then a boat might be our best option.”

Lucian pushed himself to a seated position, his gaze focused and determined. “It’s a risk, but it might be our only hope.”

With their plan set, the three of them quickly gathered their belongings and made their way to the window, peering out at the chaos that engulfed the port town. The cries and shouts seemed to be growing more frenzied, and Caerus knew that this was their moment to act.

“Let’s move quickly,” Caerus said, his voice steady. “We need to find a way to the port without being seen. Once we’re there, we’ll find a boat and make our escape.”

Ryker and Lucian nodded in agreement – their resolve unwavering. Together the two grabbed the dark gray sheets from off the bed, wrapping themselves to avoid detection. They threw Caerus a separate sheet and as they slipped out of the room and into the darkened streets of Lyndhythe, the sounds of chaos and confusion served as their cover.

Ryker dragged their remaining motorcycle along keeping the engine off to avoid detection. Caerus led the trio with Lucian guarding their rear. They moved with purpose, their steps fueled by determination and the knowledge that their survival depended on their ability to adapt and overcome.

The port awaited them, a potential lifeline amid uncertainty. Caerus’s heart raced as they navigated the winding paths, their eyes locked on their goal.

The once bustling port town of Lyndhythe now lay shrouded in chaos and turmoil, its streets illuminated by the eerie glow of burning buildings. Caerus, Ryker, and Lucian moved through the shadows, their steps swift and purposeful as they navigated the destruction that surrounded them. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid scent of fire, while the distant cries of panic and fear only served to heighten the tension in the air.

Caerus’s heart pounded in his chest as they pressed forward, their eyes trained on their destination – the empty port. The path ahead was treacherous, littered with debris and obstacles that threatened to give away their presence. But they moved with the grace of shadows, their movements calculated precisely.

Amid the chaos, a chilling sound sliced through the air – the crack of a whip followed by maniacal laughter. Caerus’s blood ran cold as he turned his gaze toward the source of the noise. There, amidst the flickering orange glow of the fires, was Nepharae. His silhouette danced and contorted while his whip made of blood crackled through the air. His arms were aglow with crimson veins and glowed with a power that seemed to flow through the weapon. His eyes were nothing more than elliptical voids with pinprick pupils of red light. His glowing crimson hair rose and fell without a single gust of wind while his head seemed to move in all directions searching, seeking, and watching. Caerus watched, both mesmerized and horrified, as Nepharae’s blood psychosis mirrored the chaos and destruction that surrounded them.

Ryker’s voice, a whispered urgency, pulled Caerus’s attention back to their perilous situation. “We need to keep moving.”

Caerus tore his gaze away from Nepharae and refocused on their goal as Ryker heaved the weight of the motorcycle behind him. They crouched low, moving quickly from one shadow to the next as they navigated the maze of destruction. The crackling flames and distant screams served as a cacophonous backdrop to their escape, a reminder of the danger that lurked around every corner.

Lucian’s eyes glinted in the dim light – his determination unwavering. Caerus could see the resolve in his mentor’s gaze, a silent agreement that they would not be deterred. Together, they pressed on, their steps sure and their hearts united in their quest for safety.

As they neared the empty port, Caerus’s mind raced with fear. They were so close, and yet the threat of Nepharae’s presence lingered like a dark cloud over their heads. The sight of the boats, silent and waiting, offered a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.

With each step, the maniacal laughter grew fainter, gradually fading into the background as they put distance between themselves and their pursuer. Caerus’s grip tightened on the hilt of his dagger, his senses heightened and alert. The port was within reach, and they were determined to escape the clutches of danger and uncertainty.

Their breaths came in a steady rhythm, a testament to their unwavering determination. As they finally reached the safety of the port, the boats beckoned to them like beacons of hope. Caerus spared one final glance back at the burning town, Nepharae’s laughter a haunting echo in his mind.

“We’ll make it out of this,” Caerus said, his voice a quiet affirmation. “No matter what challenges come our way.”

The port jetty stretched out before Caerus, Ryker, and Lucian, its wooden planks creaking beneath their hurried steps. A small sailboat awaited them at the end of the jetty, gently swaying with the rhythm of the ocean’s embrace. It was a beacon of hope, a vessel that promised escape from the chaos that had consumed the port town of Lyndhythe. Together, Ryker and Caerus managed to drag the motorcycle onto the sailboats deck, using an alga-infested gangplank that nearly slipped. The weight of the motorcycle pulled the boat to one side for a brief moment, the two quickly positioned the hefty vehicle closer to the center and together they breathed a sigh of relief.

Ryker’s sharp intake of breath caught Caerus’s attention, and he turned to follow his friend’s gaze. The sight that met their eyes sent a shiver down Caerus’s spine. Nepharae stood at the end of the jetty, his figure cloaked in darkness. His maniacally shifting head stopped abruptly, eyes piercing into their very souls. Nepharae’s manic laughter was now replaced by an eerie silence. His presence seemed to cast a shadow over the very air, chilling the atmosphere around them.

Caerus’s grip tightened on the hilt of his dagger, his mind racing as he calculated their options. But before he could even react, a swift blow struck the back of his neck, a jolt of pain coursing through his body. Darkness closed in on his vision, and he felt himself falling, his consciousness slipping away.

“Get in the boat… sail far away… don’t look back...” Lucian’s fading voice commanded Ryker.

As if through a haze, Caerus witnessed the events that followed. Lucian, his sword drawn and eyes blazing with determination, confronted Nepharae. Their clash was a symphony of whip meeting blade, each strike resonating with a deadly intent. Caerus’s vision blurred, his head pounding from the blow he had received, but he could still make out the fierce battle that unfolded before him.

Ryker’s voice, filled with urgency and panic, pierced through Caerus’s foggy mind. He felt himself being dragged, his body protesting against the movement. With immense effort, Ryker managed to drag Caerus closer to the stern of the boat. Ryker was close to hysterics as he unknotted the docking rope from the jetty and pushed the boat off to the sea.

Caerus’s senses slowly started to return.

Caerus’s gaze remained fixed on the deadly dance between Lucian and Nepharae. Their movements were a blur of skill and power. Time seemed to stretch as Caerus’s consciousness wavered between lucidity and darkness. He could hear the clash of swords, the heavy panting of combatants, and the rhythmic clapping of waves against the boat. His body ached and his mind a whirlwind of confusion and pain.

In the cold light of dying flames, and the ever-receding vision of the port town of Lyndhythe, Caerus and Ryker witness a scene they never thought would occur.

Lucian knelt on the ground having lost a lot of blood, towing the line between consciousness and unconsciousness. Nepharae’s whip wrapped around his neck with a sickening snap. Caerus’s blood went cold as the Laresian’s cold crimson eyes stared out onto the receding image of the sailboat, before Nepharae jerked the whip upward, snapping Lucian’s neck. Lucian, the warrior, the mentor for Caerus’s incognizant life, had his life snuffed out by a psychotic Laresian cackling into the night.

This was the last image Caerus saw as he fell unconscious – the burning sea.