---
Ryoken settled back into his chair, his expression thoughtful. "Well, it's your turn now. I've told you everything you wanted to know," he said, gesturing toward me.
I paused, deciding whether or not to tell him about Kran. Even though Kran was gone, I still needed answers about him: why he hadn't told me I bore the Mark of the Throne, who he actually was, and what his ultimate goal had been. Maybe Ryoken would know something.
So, I told my story from the very beginning, leaving nothing out. It struck me that this was the first time I'd told someone everything.
Ryoken listened intently, his face occasionally betraying surprise, but he waited until I finished before asking any questions. He dug deeper into specific details, especially about Kran, even asking to see the bracelet and one of the knives Kran had left me. I slid the outer bracelet cover from Daran off and held out the bracelet.
"A wise move hiding this. The design dates back to the Time Before, when the Wanderers hadn't yet reached the First Plane, and the Dragonlords ruled," he murmured. He studied the knife with similar caution.
"Be mindful of when and where you use this," he advised. "Anyone knowledgeable enough will know exactly what it is."
Those were the main insights I gathered from him, and when I finished, Ryoken said, "Well, that settles it. I'll order my men to begin searching for your sister once I'm back in Azdria. That's all you want in return for working with us, correct?"
"Yes, that's it. Is there really nothing you can say about Kran, though? About who or what he might be?"
Ryoken took a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Honestly, the more I hear, the stranger he sounds. I doubt he's a nightmare; a nightmare would have been driven wild by the Mark long before now. All we know is he can take the shape of a dragon, has killed at least one Dragonlord, and is ancient. Those clues alone don't narrow things down very well."
"You mean there are that many beings who fit those criteria?"
He sighed. "In reality, no. That description would lead anyone to conclude he's likely a Dragonlord—an exiled one, most likely."
"He told me once he wasn't a Dragonlord, though."
"That's where it gets tricky." Ryoken tapped the arm of his chair. "I'll mention him to the Queen. If anyone has insight into his identity, she will."
Though I hadn't found direct answers, I had Ryoken's commitment to search for Shaureen, which was what I needed most. Now it was just a matter of staying with them until she was found. With our conversation complete, I left Ryoken's study, leaving him to his thoughts.
---
After Ashborn left, Ryoken sat back, releasing a breath he'd held for far too long.
"So she knew," he muttered to himself, a mix of awe and dread in his voice. "That's why she sent us…"
He had lied to Ashborn when he said he didn't know who Kran might be. He knew who Ashborn was talking about as soon as he heard about the Abyssal Whale; there was only one person who fit, and that name still had the power to make even the most legendary warriors shudder.
"How far have you been planning this…" he whispered to himself, shaking his head. After a long silence, he laughed softly, his smile almost childish with mischief. "I'm grateful I survived to see this. But whether I live to see the day he finishes what he started... well, that's up to him."
Still grinning, Ryoken pulled a sheet of paper from a drawer and began to write, looking like a child secretly enjoying something he knew he shouldn't.
---
A short time later, Bom, Rem, and Virana returned, looking thoroughly worn out. Rem sighed, leaning heavily on the wall as Virana clenched her fists, her expression barely holding back her frustration.
"So… what exactly was this 'errand' Bom needed to run?" I asked, curious.
Virana's knuckles whitened as she tried to keep her composure. "We wandered aimlessly through the city for three hours. Then, out of nowhere, he casually announced he'd forgotten what he was supposed to do."
Rem's expression turned grim as she added, "His sense of direction… It's the worst I've ever seen. He could get lost walking in a straight line. It's terrifying."
Bom's face suddenly lit up, as if struck by a grand revelation. "Ah, that's it! I remember now! I was going to ask for directions from someone three weeks ago but totally forgot. I was supposed to do that!"
Virana's eye twitched violently. Quickly, I guided her over to the couch, hoping to prevent any potential outburst. "Come on, let's take a breather."
As she settled reluctantly into the cushions, her jaw still clenched, I tried to bring the focus back. "Alright, looks like it's about time for our discussion, anyway."
Thalor joined us from his room, and we were supposed to be discussing who would go back with Ryoken. But Ryoken was still in his study, and Virana grew impatient.
"Did he fall asleep in there or something? He can seem irresponsible, but he wouldn't just vanish when it comes to work."
"We talked just an hour ago. I doubt he went to sleep," I said.
Thalor shrugged and went upstairs to check. A few knocks and silence passed before we heard the door creak open. Then came a soft thud and muttered curses.
"What does that mean?" Rem asked.
Bom, with his usual casual tone, said, "That the soundproofing in this place is terrible."
A moment later, Thalor returned with a note in his hand. He looked mildly annoyed as he held it out for us to see: a crude drawing of Ryoken's face, tongue sticking out and winking, next to a note that read, "See you all in Cinder Veil!"
Virana slammed her fist against the nearest wall. "That old…! He never planned to discuss a single thing with us!"
I sighed, thinking he'd likely spoken to me first because he'd intended to leave. Well played, indeed.
"Can't one of you follow him?" I asked.
"No use. The return rune is a one-way ticket," Virana replied. "Following him wouldn't allow us to come back here or communicate. Besides, we need to ensure your safety first."
That was why Ryoken insisted on going alone to begin with.
"Well, we can make him pay for it later," Thalor said. "He said he'd meet us in Cinder Veil, so that's where we're headed."
"Why Cinder Veil? Why not somewhere closer?" Rem asked, her brow furrowed.
"No idea," Thalor answered with a sigh. "He didn't specify a time either, so I guess we should get moving as soon as possible."
Bom looked at each of us, confusion clouding his face. "How far can it be, really?"
Rem filled in the details with a sigh. "In the shortest route, we'll have to pass through six different worlds."
Bom started counting on his fingers, stopping at five and squinting as he tried to picture the distance. "That's… quite a bit."
"At least Cinder Veil makes sense," Rem continued, trying to stay positive. "It's one of the few places still under Azdrian control since the nation was founded. Golden Order has almost no influence there."
"Yes, but there are closer worlds outside the Order's reach," Thalor added. "There's a reason he picked Cinder Veil."
Reason or not, we didn't have a choice.
"If you're done with the theories," I interrupted, "when are we leaving?"
Virana, who had been quiet since finding the note, stepped forward. "Right now."
"Huh?" The rest of us blinked in unison.
"I said we're leaving. Now."
Thalor looked like he wanted to argue, but one look at her face was enough to make him reconsider. "Yes, ma'am."
Whatever he'd seen in her expression, none of us wanted to test it. We threw our things together as quickly as we could and followed her toward the city gates. Some people seemed to recognize me, and a few stared curiously at the Azdrian siblings. Guess they were more famous than I realized.
As we reached the gate, I found myself wishing I could at least say goodbye to Daran. But drawing attention to him, especially now, would only invite trouble. I'd just have to let that go.
Finally, we stopped in front of one of the massive portals, a blue-hued barrier shimmering across the entrance.
"There it is," Virana said. "The gate to Stormfront Sea—the first world on our route to Cinder Veil."
"Was it always blue rank to enter Stormfront? I thought it was peaceful, despite the name," Rem asked, puzzled.
"You're right. Normally, it's safe. But a particularly dangerous Revenant showed up there, and it's wrecked a lot of the smaller dock towns. The Golden Order slapped blue rank restrictions on the gates instead of handling it themselves, trapping hundreds inside," Thalor explained.
"That's… awful." Rem's voice softened, eyes downcast.
"So, we're all above blue rank, right?" Virana asked, pulling out a crystal that gleamed between blue and indigo. Thalor followed suit, his crystal glowing a similar shade.
"Honestly… I've never tried one of these before," I admitted.
Virana arched an eyebrow, then tossed me one of the crystals. The crystal glowed a solid indigo, with hints of violet flickering within.
"I knew you were strong, but… Holy Vyadra, that's impressive." Virana's surprise was unmistakable.
Thalor said nothing, though his surprise was equally clear.
Truthfully, I was surprised too. Just yesterday, I was sure they were both stronger than me, but now… I felt different, in a way I couldn't quite describe.
"Alright, Bom, you're up. Got a crystal?"
Bom grinned, his voice booming with pride. "I don't need those shiny rocks!"
And without another word, he strolled right through the gate, ignoring the seal entirely.
"W-what?! Is that even possible?" Rem stammered, her eyes wide.
"With him… anything's possible, it seems," I muttered, feeling both amused and exasperated.
I heard a howl from distance, it was far away and not clear.
"What was that noise?" I asked.
Others looked at me, confused.
"I thought I heard something. Anyway, let's go."
Not eager to let Bom wander off alone, we quickly followed him through the portal.
---
As all of that unfolded, in a darkened cave once alive with violet light, a single egg cracked open. The faint light of fractured crystals barely illuminated the creature clawing its way free, breaking away the shell with an impatient fury. Free at last, it took a long, deliberate look at its new form—sharp, sleek, and powerful. Then it threw back its head and released a howl, a sound that tore through the silence and echoed through the depths of the earth, carrying a message far beyond the cave walls.
Many things heard that voice.
Far, far away, a giant, long entwined with roots, slowly opened his eyes, pale and misty from years of entrapment. Tears traced down his withered face as he felt a bittersweet release, the promise that had kept him alive finally undone. With one last sigh, he gave himself to the earth.
In a land of endless shadows, a woman with her eyes bound by a tattered cloth and a broken crown tilted her head, the echo of the voice stirring something long buried within her. She closed her eyes, feeling a wave of nostalgia she could neither place nor explain.
In yet another realm, a man trapped in a wolf's form threw his head back and howled, an instinctive response to the call that carried across the worlds. His fur bristled with a primal recognition.
In a hidden dungeon, deep underground, a blue-haired witch held a Dragonlord's heart and a dagger forged from Dragonlord flesh, a discovery she had barely believed real. Her eyes gleamed as the voice reached her, and she laughed, wild and triumphant. "I knew it!"
An immortal warrior, cursed to roam without end, lifted his head toward the sky. The voice struck him with a vague sense of recognition, yet his mind—lost to ages of wandering—could not place it. Still, he felt something stir.
Across the vast Dreamscape, creatures lurking in its darkest corners rejoiced, their snarls and shrieks echoing in wild celebration. They knew what the voice meant; they knew who had returned.
In a quiet chamber, a queen looked at a worn family portrait, her face softened by nostalgia. She traced her fingers over the image of herself, her fallen husband, and their two young daughters. As the voice resonated, a small, knowing smile touched her lips, and she set the portrait back down, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
But not all who heard the voice rejoiced. In a grand chamber, fourteen men sat around a stone table, each wearing a golden mask. They were deep in discussion, their voices heavy with the endless burdens. When the howl reached them, each mask turned as though struck by an invisible blow. A chill ran through the room, and an unfamiliar fear tightened their throats, dredging up a memory they had long buried, a name they had hoped to never hear again.
The voice carried a simple message, one that was both a warning and a declaration:
"I, Xarvok, have returned to swallow the Gold."