The map of the continent was a patchwork of intricate boundaries, each one shaped by centuries of history. In the far North, Orerha lay between two powerful neighbors: Heladon, a vast and influential kingdom to the west, and Yorothen, a cold coastal nation to the east.
To the south, the continent was dominated by the massive nations of New Heladon and Yokonlond, both known for their extreme social inequality, especially among the poor.
The trade routes crisscrossing the map resembled spider webs. Despite being long-time enemies, Heladon and Orerha engaged in significant trade—both openly and in secret.
Lydus glanced down from the map to the table where he, Arawn, Everett, and Matthew sat in silence, waiting for Adira to arrive.
Footsteps echoed outside, causing everyone to slump further into their seats.
SLAM!
The door crashed against the wall as it was flung open. Adira stormed in, her hand pressed against her face.
Matthew pressed his head against the table as if trying to hide. Everyone else stared forward, waiting.
“Surprise--!” Lydus blurted out, but her sharp glare made him stumble over his words. “Uh... you...”
“Stop,” she commanded, raising a hand to cut him off. “What happened?”
“Well...” Lydus began, only to be interrupted.
“Not you.” Adira’s finger pointed toward Everett. “You tell me.”
Of course she did that. Lydus gazed upwards at the ceiling, trying to hold words back. What the hell was wrong with his input? He wasn’t a fucking child, and in fact, they acted more like one than him.
Everett rubbed his nose calmly, then tilted his head, “Oh...” He said annoyingly, “Me? Why don’t you let someone else explain—not Lydus—but perhaps Arawn.”
Fucking asshole, he thought.
“I know you orchestrated this—who else would?” Adira let out a laugh, sharp and devoid of humor. Her hair was unusually frizzy, untied for once. “Matthew’s too scared, Arawn just goes along with whatever anyone says, and Lydus... well, he complains, but he’d never outright deny it.”
“Deny—deny?” Everett shoved his chair back and stood up. “You’re not in charge. No one is, not since…”
Don’t say it, Lydus thought.
“...Not since your father died. Since all of our fathers died.” Everett sank back into his chair. “Did you see our haul? We could do even better.”
Adira sighed, her face softening slightly as if holding something back. “Matthew.” She suddenly turned to him. The man sat up, swallowing hard. “What happened out there?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, voice tense.
“I know you guys wouldn’t have stopped so early. What really went down?”
Everett shot Matthew a sharp glare, silently mouthing, Stay quiet.
“Well...” Matt laughed in response to his anxiety, “There was a...” He glanced at Everett, mouth now wide open in disbelief, “...a soldier.”
In that moment, Adira reached for something, as if ready to throw it at Everett, but a knock on the door interrupted her. She paused, taking a deep breath to calm herself.
“Idiot,” she muttered under her breath.
With a swift motion, she turned and pulled open the creaky wooden door behind her.
A woman stood at the door, wearing a dirty black chainse that hung down to her ankles, loosely cinched at the waist. She cast a brief glance at the group before leaning in to whisper something to Adira. Whatever was said made Adira’s eyes widen, her gaze dropping to the floor.
“Shit,” Adira cursed softly. She turned back to the others and said, “This isn’t over,” before swiftly exiting the room.
As soon as the door closed, the tension dissolved, as if the very air around them had begun to heal. Everyone exhaled in unison, a collective sigh of relief.
Everett glanced at Matthew with a dissatisfied look but chose to hold his tongue—something he wouldn’t have done if it were Lydus.
Matthew had always been like this—quick to react, trying not to upset anyone, yet somehow only making things worse for others, at least on occasion.
“She’s a mess,” Arawn finally spoke up.
“She wasn’t always,” Everett replied with thin lips.
Lydus let out a quiet, almost bitter laugh. He’d seen this story unfold before; it was always the same.
“She promised her father she’d keep this place together. Now she’s convinced she has to control everything, even if it destroys her.”
Arawn sighed. “I wasn’t around for any of that... It must have been hard on you.”
“You have no idea,” Everett's voice dropped low.
“Exactly,” Lydus cut in, leaning forward with his hands clasped. “Which is why bringing up her father was a dick move.”
Everett huffed. “I was trying to make a point.”
“Not like that,” Lydus shook his head slowly. “You’ve got a fucked-up way of going about it.”
Everett banged the table with his fist, “Sometimes it’s the only goddamn way, Lydus.” His voice came out quick, loud, “All you do is complain, and make stupid jokes... I mean...” He stood up, “...It’s fucking ridiculous.” Swinging open the door, he left the room as well.
Probably for the best, Lydus thought.
“I better go,” Matthew chimed in, standing up abruptly. “Got things to do.” He left less dramatically than Everett, though the door still managed to slam shut behind him. Figures.
“Well...” Arawn chuckled. “That’s a lot of drama for one day.”
“Too much,” Lydus agreed. With nothing more to add, an awkward silence settled between them.
Outside, the rain began to pour, drumming against the wooden roof. Droplets found their way through small cracks above, evidently because of the shoddy construction. Lydus always found it odd—this room was meant for planning, for mapping out escape routes, yet no one seemed to care about its upkeep.
“It’s getting bad out there...” Lydus broke the silence, rising to his feet. “I should get back to Alex.” He started toward the door but was stopped.
“Wait,” Arawn called out, his tone shifting. “I need to tell you something.”
Lydus stopped but didn’t turn around. “What is it?” he asked, though he already had an idea.
“The stone...” Arawn started, his voice suddenly hesitant, as if speaking about it carried some unseen risk. “It’s more important than you realize.”
Slowly, Lydus shifted to face him. “What’s that supposed to mean, Arawn?”
“You felt it, didn’t you?” Arawn’s words became more uncertain, almost disjointed. “You were drawn to it. You saw it... even through the thick forest.”
“Yeah.” He nodded nervously, “I did.”
A smile crept on his face for a moment, but he pushed it away, “Do you remember how I found this place?”
Lydus narrowed his eyes. What does any of that have to do with this? he thought.
Arawn took Lydus’s silence as a sign to continue, recounting a story they both already knew. “Last winter, the snowfall was heavy... too heavy. I was lost, with nowhere to go. You and your group found me, took me in, even though Adira warned against it.”
“No outsiders,” Lydus muttered under his breath.
“I never told any of you what...” Arawn trailed off, “...what I was doing before that.” He bit his tongue, not wanting to say it, “That stone holds something within it, that can help us destroy the monarchy.”
Lydus's eyes brightened. “It can?” He leaned forward, pressing both hands into the rough wooden table, which groaned under the pressure. “How?”
“I’m not sure yet...” Arawn admitted. “But if I find more information, would you help me?”
“Hell, yeah, I would,” Lydus grinned widely. “Why didn’t you tell us about this before?”
“You need a certain connection to the stone, and I didn’t think any of you had that—until now.” Arawn nodded toward him. “Once I learn more, I’ll fill you in. But for now, you should head back.”
Scrambling towards the door, Lydus opened it. Rain attacked him immediately, but he dismissed it, “Talk to me again soon, okay?”
Arawn nodded wordlessly.
Stepping outside, the world looked completely different—gloomier, with storm clouds looming high above. Thunder boomed, and lightning flashed, as if locked in a fierce battle.
Each step sank into the now-slick gravel beneath his feet, the rain pattering briskly on the ground. The droplets were icy, almost close to snow, and Lydus wondered why it hadn’t yet turned. The air was certainly cold enough for it.
The town had emptied. The few people he spotted were huddled under cover or sprinting to escape the storm. Even inside, the wind managed to cut through—a rarity.
Skidding to a stop, he overshot a turn, then doubled back and turned left. His home finally came into view: humble, dilapidated, perfect in its own way.
Lydus climbed the steps to the door, twisted the doorknob, and pushed it open. The familiar scent of the place washed over him. Glancing around, he saw no one.
Quietly, he crept down the hallway and peered into one of the small, barren rooms. The window, boarded up years ago, let in no light. A cottage bed sat pushed against the back wall.
“Alex?” he whispered, but there was no response. Narrowing his eyes, he scanned the room, but still didn’t see him. Turning around, Lydus checked his own room—nothing.
“Shit...” he muttered. “Alex—Emmelia?” he called out, louder now. Silence.
Heart pounding, he bolted toward the exit, pushing through the door without bothering to close it behind him.
"Idiot," Emmelia called from down the path, waving with one hand. She now wore a vest reinforced with leather, though it still resembled a chainse or dress.
"Where's Alex?" Lydus asked, rushing toward her.
She stopped abruptly. "I was on lookout, and Alex wanted to come," she said, walking past him. "Matthew has him. They're still at the lookout."
"Good..." Lydus exhaled in relief. "You should’ve told me."
She raised an eyebrow. "How? You were... gone."
"That’s, uh..." He chuckled. "...a good point. I was thinking—"
"Alex told me something," Emmelia cut him off, something she rarely did. She stepped under the cover of a lone tree, her rain-soaked hair dripping.
Lydus blew out a breath. "Told you what?"
“Mmm... well..." she hummed, then flicked him on the forehead. "That I’m a liar?"
"What?" He rubbed his head, stepping back. "I never said that."
"Seemed pretty clear to me," Emmelia muttered, leaning against the tree trunk.
Lydus pointed toward his house, as if Alex were still insided. "He doesn’t know any better. What I did say was that Adira's a liar, not you."
"Either way, Lydus, you shouldn’t be putting those thoughts in his head."
"And why not?" Lydus asked. "I don’t want him listening to Adira and her delusions."
"She’s trying her best," Emmelia countered.
"By commanding us like... like we’re her dogs."
Emmelia took a step forward but stopped herself. There was no point in being harsh. "Adira’s doing everything she can. She doesn’t want to lose this place, just like the rest of us."
"Well, she’s—"
"But it’s more than that, Lydus," Emmelia interrupted. "She wants to rebuild, to fight against the kingdom again."
"And that will never happen," he said flatly.
"I know." Her voice softened. "So, you need to help her."
"How?" Lydus asked.
At that, Emmelia hesitated. It was a difficult question to answer. "I don’t know..." she admitted, then drew a sharp breath. "You’re on lookout soon. Maybe start by... actually doing it?" She smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
"If I have to," he replied sarcastically. "But trust me, I’d never talk bad about you."
Emmelia nodded. "I know," she said with a playful grin. "Otherwise, I’d take this fist"—she raised her hand—"and punch you."
"Right, right," Lydus mocked, grinning. "I’ll see you later?"
"Sure," she responded with a nod.
With that, Lydus walked off, leaving Emmelia standing under the tree. Its thin branches and sparse leaves offered little protection from the rain, but she hardly noticed.
Her thoughts were elsewhere, swirling with uncertainty. Lately, she wasn't sure of anything—whether Lydus was being truthful or even what the future held.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
