The crystalline glow of Ragnar's spires shimmered like fractured glass, casting sharp reflections of beauty and imperfection. Golden veins of light pulsed beneath the cobblestone streets, their glow warm and inviting—but the shadows that lingered at the edges told a different story. Here, light and darkness lived together in constant friction, each threatening to consume the other.
Amara felt that friction in her bones.
Her gaze swept across the crowded marketplace, her steps slow but deliberate. Merchants bartered beneath hanging lanterns, their voices raised in a symphony of haggling and desperation. The rhythmic clinking of coins echoed everywhere. Each chime struck a little sharper than it should have, like an off-key note in a song.
"That's her, isn't it?" whispered a man near a fruit stall, his eyes darting toward Amara before flicking away.
"Yeah, that's her," muttered a woman carrying a basket of herbs.
"Yeah, that's her," the man repeated, his voice hushed but sharp with implication. "And yet the people call her the real light of Ragnar. Ain't that something?"
Amara kept walking, her face impassive, but her fingers gripped the strap of her rifle just a bit tighter.
"People always lookin' for a new star to follow," an elderly merchant said as he stacked jars of golden preserves.
Her jaw clenched, but she didn't turn. Don't give them the satisfaction.
Her two companions walked beside her, ever-watchful. Kael's heavy broadsword bouncing in its shoulder holster, its crimson glow faint but steady. His golden eyes swept the streets with a soldier's precision, never lingering too long on any one face. Elira walked a step behind, her twin sabers crossed at her side. Her presence was like a blade kept just out of sight but never out of reach.
"They really know how to push someones buttons," Amara muttered, eyes darting toward a young boy counting his coins like they were his last hope. "Can you believe that?"
"Of course they do," Kael replied, his voice low but firm. "You're visible. You're strong. That's all it takes for people to start whispering."
Elira snorted. "It's not strength they see. It's change. People cling to whoever they think can give them something new."
"I didn't ask for it," Amara hissed, her eyes sharp as she glanced at Elira. "I didn't do anything."
"You didn't have to," Elira said, brushing past her. "People don't care about facts. They care about what they want to follow."
Kael glanced at Amara, his eyes softening just a little. "Perception's reality, Amara. Darya knows that better than anyone."
Amara didn't respond, but the weight of his words pressed down on her like a stone on her chest. Perception's reality.
The chime of coins drew her gaze again. A man in threadbare clothes was exchanging coins with a merchant. His eyes darted around nervously, counting his change twice before stuffing the coins into his pocket.
"Look at them," Amara said, tilting her head toward the crowd. "They're acting like these coins are some sacred relics."
"Because they are," Kael muttered, not looking at her. "Having and not having money could mean life or death, even here in this world."
Amara frowned, her eyes narrowing. "That's not how it's supposed to be."
"You know, money makes the world go round," Elira said, tilting her head as she watched a man count his coins again and again. "Coins buy safety. People get desperate."
Before Amara could respond, a scream echoed from deeper within the marketplace. Sharp. High. A girl's scream.
All heads turned where a young girl was being dragged into an alley by two shadowy figures. Coins clinked to the ground, their golden glow dimming as they scattered across the stones.
Her heart lurched. Move.
Kael was already sprinting, his broadsword lowering into an offensive grip. Elira followed, her twin sabers flashing as she darted through the crowd. Amara slung her rifle into her hands, her boots thudding against stone as she charged forward.
They followed the scream through the twisting alleys, away from the glow of the market. The light grew dimmer here, shadows creeping along the walls like living things. The air smelled of salt and damp stone. The glow of the golden streets barely reached them, leaving everything drenched in half-light.
"There!" Kael barked, pointing ahead.
Two hooded figures were dragging a girl toward the alley's far end. She kicked and thrashed, her nails clawing at the ground as she screamed for help. Her bag hung loosely from her side, its contents—coins—spilling onto the cobblestones.
"Get them!" Kael barked.
Elira moved like lightning, her sabers drawn in a flash. Amara raised her rifle, exhaling slowly as she aimed. Her sights lined up with the fleeing figures, but the twisting paths of the alley blocked her shot.
"Cut them off!" she called, darting after them.
Kael surged forward, his heavy frame somehow moving with startling speed. Elira vanished down a side path, taking the narrowest route to intercept them. Amara ran. Harder. Faster. Her breath came in sharp bursts. The girl's screams were closer now, desperate and raw.
She turned the corner — and stopped.
The two hooded figures were pinned against the wall, struggling against glowing tendrils of light. One figure snarled as glowing chains wrapped around their wrists, forcing them to the ground. Rowan stood at the center of it all, her spear now a crackling whip of silver energy. Beside her, Aiden stood with his hand raised, his ring faintly glowing on his finger.
The attackers broke free, retreating into the shadows. The girl they had been chasing was now crouched behind Rowan, clutching her spilled coins in one trembling hands.
"You're late," Rowan said, eyes flicking to Amara. Her smirk was sharp. "We had it handled."
Kael and Elira rounded the corner a second later. Kael's broadsword hummed with a low thrum, his eyes locked on Aiden's group. Guardians meeting outsiders. It never went well.
"The Outsiders," Kael growled. "What are you doing here?"
"Helping, her obviously," Aiden said, his eyes still on the captured figures. His tone was calm, deliberate.
Kael's eyes darted to the girl behind Rowan. She was rocking in place, her coins clutched tightly. His eyes narrowed. "What are you scheming?"
Rowan scoffed. "Don't start. We saved her."
"You just so happen to be here at the right place, at the right time," Elira said, her sabers still drawn. "You're either really lucky or running a long con."
"Hold on," Amara interjected, Her breath hitched. Her eyes darted from Elira to Kael, then to the girl still clutching her coins like lifelines. Amara felt the weight of the market whispers again, the voices saying she was Ragnar's light. Was that what "light" meant? If it was, then she had no choice.
Elira frowned. "Darya said—"
"I don't care what Darya said." Amara stepped closer, her voice sharp as steel. "They saved a child."
Silence lingered. Tension hung thick in the alley. Then a slow clap echoed from behind them.
"That much is true," said a low, gruff voice. Kev.
Kev approached slowly, his halberd resting on his shoulder. His gaze was deliberate, lingering on each of them. His eyes lingered longer on Sylva, and he gave a small nod. "Sylva," he said with quiet reverence. "Been a while since you walked these streets."
"More dangerous than I remember," Sylva replied, her glow flickering faintly.
"More cracks than you remember too I bet," Kev muttered, eyes narrowing at Aiden. "If i recall it's aiden right?"
Aiden stepped forward, his gaze steady. "Then you know we're not your enemy."
Kev tilted his head, considering. "Maybe. Maybe not." His gaze shifted to the spilled coins. His jaw tightened, his halberd lowering slightly. He knew.
"We get it," Aiden scoffed, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "We just want talk about this."
Kael's grip tightened on his weapon. "Darya already spoke with you. What more is there to say?"
Sylva floated closer, her light dim but steady. "This isn't about Darya's system. This is about the source of those coins—and what they're doing in Ragnar."
Elira's sabers flashed as she sheathed them, her stance defensive. "What about them?"
"Nobody's throwing punches, alright? Not unless you want to go first," Rowan said, resting her grip on her spear like it weighed nothing. Rowan interjected, her other hand gripping casually against her shoulder. "But let's just say we've seen these coins before. And we know what they're capable of."
Amara's brow furrowed, her confusion evident. "That's ridiculous. Darya's been using those coins to keep Ragnar afloat. They're what's keeping this city alive!"
Rowan crossed her arms, her tone sharp. "Or so she says. But have you noticed the people here? The way they cling to those coins like their lives depend on it? That's not normal."
Kael stepped between them, his blade glowing faintly. "Enough. You don't know what you're talking about. Darya's done more for this city than anyone."
"And we're not saying she hasn't," Aiden said calmly. "But these coins are dangerous. We've seen what they can do If they're not stopped."
Amara shook her head, her voice rising. "You don't understand. Darya's saved us. She's saved me. I won't listen to these wild accusations."
Sylva's light flickered as she floated closer to Amara. " The Core thrives on manipulation, on twisting good intentions into tools for its chaos. You have to see that."
"Really darya would get a kick out of this," kev muttered sarcastically. He turned, gesturing for them to follow. "Come on. There's someone you need to meet."
The group exchanged glances. Amara hesitated. Her fingers tapped against the rifle's frame.
"You coming or not?" Kev called, his voice fading as he walked away. "Bring the kid too, its not safe out here for her".
Amara clenched her jaw, her eyes fixed on Kev's retreating figure. "Yeah. I'm coming."
Her steps felt heavier than before. Each footfall echoed louder than the last. She didn't know why. She didn't know if it was guilt, doubt, or something worse.
But she followed.