They reappeared on the mountain top in the southern Parsana mountain range the sorcery of the teleportation spell dissipating. Moments ago, they had been inside the crumbling ruins of Lak Ahm's domain, the oppressive weight of divine power pressing on them from all sides. Now, they stood atop a jagged mountain peak, the air thin and biting cold.
The sky stretched vast and empty above them, painted in hues of deep indigo and crimson, as though it bled from the heavens. Below, an endless sea of clouds churned, glowing faintly in the dying light of a distant sun. The only sound was the howling wind, screaming through the crags like the wails of a thousand restless spirits.
Joan stumbled as her boots hit uneven stone, catching herself on a jagged boulder. She glanced around, counting heads. Gadaric, Yosef, Satifa—and then Tara and her two assassins.
"You bastards," Joan growled, her voice raw from the dust and strain.
Tara remained calm, brushing her fingers over the pendant she now held in her hand. The assassins behind her stood stoic, their hands resting on the hilts of their curved blades, as if ready for a fight at a moment's notice.
Joan advanced, her fists clenched, eyes burning with fury. "You were going to leave us behind, weren't you?" Her voice was rising now. "That spell—you timed it so we'd barely make it, and if we hadn't, you'd have left."
Tara turned slowly, her face unreadable. "You made it, didn't you?" she said, her voice cold and detached.
Joan's hand shot out, grabbing Tara by the collar and pulling her close. The move was so sudden that even the assassins flinched, momentarily caught off guard. "Don't give me that smug, holier-than-thou attitude," Joan hissed. "You think you're untouchable Give me ten seconds and I will make this mountaintop bit higher as your bodies will be left in a pile here."
"You should thank me," Tara said, her voice low but cutting. "If it weren't for us, you'd be buried under the rubble of that tower. Instead, you're alive."
Joangot just angrier. "You think you can scare me? I'll snap your neck right here and now."
One of the assassins moved, but Satifa reacted in an instant, raising her sword. A swarm of locusts burst forth, swirling around the assassin and forcing him back. The buzzing sound was deafening, and the assassin's eyes narrowed as he calculated his next move.
"Enough!" Satifa's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. The locusts retreated, hovering near her like a living shield. She looked at the assassins and said, "You have the pendant, now let us get going. I want the records from the old man as fast as I can.
Joan didn't release her grip from her sword, but her jaw tightened, the weight of Satifa's words settling in. "We wouldn't be in nthis mess in the beginning without them blackmailing us from the start."
"I know, and the faster we are done here the sooner we can leave," Satifa said angrily, rarely showing such emotion.
Tara gave a soft exhale, stepping back as Joan finally released her grip, though her stance remained defensive. The cold wind tugged at their cloaks, but for a moment, the mountain was silent except for the distant wail of the wind.
"You can blame us all you want," Tara said, her voice softer now, though the steel hadn't left her tone. "But if you'd prefer to trade barbs instead of moving forward, then be my guest. However, we'll freeze to death here before your anger satisfies you."
As the last light of the sun dipped below the clouds, the group stood together, their figures silhouetted against the endless expanse of the sky. They decided to walk away, but it was clear, that trust was not to be found.