The city forum was considered the life of Rastite. Steel domes with exteriors covered in corroded aluminum sheets surrounded the site. Kiosks, a simple four sided box of steel and glass, littered the open central area. With the recent load of supplies, everyone stockpiled what they could get their hands on. Stalling their hunger for a day.

Genon passed unseen through the crowd.

Some people in the forum blistered the site of an abandoned temple. Where the faithful once worshipped the sea serpent, Bakunawa. The creature in myths that brought storms upon the wet wastes. When hurricanes threatened the horizon, they believed offering to the serpent would lessen the damage.

He took a mental note of the area's situation. One small storm could be enough to eradicate the hopes and lives they've maintained this far. If he were an Archii, he'd invest in infrastructure to build stability. Because what good were these hands in plowing and working the land when dead?

In another humble shrine, he saw worshipers of the Goddess, Idianale. He was no believer, but he had to give it to them. Despite the state they lived in, their faith was unwavering. At least they had one thing to hold on to.

Notice boards went ignored sometimes. Except when people saw job openings that required skills of various trades.

Amidst the crowd, peddling mouths and perusing customers, Genon approached the board. Beside it, a herald announced updates about the recent raids and what the Archii planned to do. Genon decided to focus on the pinned vellums.

One particular notice buried under overlapping papers caught his attention. It had been a while since he saw that specific seal. He took it off the board.

It was from the Royal Palace of Flesperia. It indicated that the High King was in search with whomever had the ability to heal. Of course, the one who presents the desired person won't go unrewarded.

He raised a brow. There were numerous herbalists and medics out there. But there could be more to it. He folded the notice before pocketing it. Before leaving, the herald announced the very same thing he read about the bounty. Declaring how generous the reward was.

Mere news would spark the interest of, if not one, then a lot of individuals. Bounty hunters. Mercenaries. Hitmen and rogues alike. As outcasts of a once prosperous empire, causing a rouse was but child's play.

There were hoots of interest from the crowd.

Genon drifted off and found himself in more familiar company.

“Look what I found,” Genon waved the paper, showing it to Blaze and Castellone. They were currently gathered at the entrance hall.

Castellone threw a crystal dagger at Genon, who sidestepped to dodge it. Using a slim chain attached to it, he retracted the weapon back to its sheath, his bracer.

Blaze, as his own version of welcome, threw a punch at Genon as well.

Genon had mere inches before his reflexes kicked in to avoid Blaze's attacks. Luckily, they both went to a halt when the sound of distant temple bells tolled. A religious sign where Idianale's believers had to gather for worship.

It was also the moment Sirius arrived home, meeting them by the hall wondering what the commotion was about.

Genon exhaled and jerked his head to the side. "Okay, hold up. What's up? What did I do?"

Blaze adjusted his gauntlets. "Nothing. Had a bet with Llone on you. Not telling the details though."

"If it's about the revonacci cookies, then chill, I'll pay you back." Genon raised his hands up, the notice tucked between his index and middle finger in one hand.

Blaze looked at Castellone skeptically. Castellone shrugged his shoulders, having no idea what Genon was talking about.

From the corner, Sirius crossed his arms over his chest. "Those were mine."

Genon glanced at Sirius's direction with an apologetic face. "Sorry? By the way they were good. Where'd you get them?"

"Someone gave them to me."

"If it's a girl, you're a lucky bastard. Marry her already." Genon waved the notice once again. "Anyway, I have something interesting you might want to gobble down."

"Gobble down? Sounds like you." Castellone commented in a monotone. He sounded unenthusiastic, but decided to peruse it with the rest.

It didn't take much effort to recognize Flesperia's insignia on the notice. The shape of fire trapped in a single drop of tear surrounded by gold metallic wings, flaring outward.

Blaze encouraged them to push this quest. The reward was promising.

Castellone grimaced at the paper. He couldn't quite say what he had in mind.

Genon noticed a difference in Sirius's expression. The notice piqued his friend's interest in a way. He wouldn't have that expression of slight surprise and anxiety, but he assumed it was due to the reward. Maybe.

Sirius headed for his room without saying a word, leaving only a nod as he walked past them.

What does the High King want with Calla?

In his room, Sirius stared at the space between him and the hearth.

One of the unique aspects that marked the distinguishing line of those with royal blood from the common folk was their ability to use mahiqa. Not to mention the true ruler having black eyes and only the royal family knew what it could do.

Caltha had already told him she wasn't royalty. What was she then?

"Never seen you like this before. I guess there's a first for everything."

Sirius turned to catch Saihme sitting by the oriel window, with the same book covering his face. If Sirius knew better, the man must have a terrible scar on his face that he didn't want to expose.

"I've been wondering," Sirius's voice trailed off, his interest in the matter dwindled. He faced the other side. "Never mind."

Saihme tapped a finger on the book by intervals, the sound meant to break the silence in the room. "One misstep could lead to you and Caltha's bond to break. You don't want to take any chances. I know you've heard this many times before, from her no doubt, but be careful."

That was the problem. There were a lot of sly people around the city. Mercenaries and thugs had a network of eyes and ears as long as the prize was right. It was a miracle Caltha kept her ability clear of them for so long.

More importantly, how on earth had the idea of Caltha and him cross Saihme's mind? Because he found him on Caltha's bed the other day? No. That wasn't it.

Sirius looked at the golden spearblade by the weapon rack on the wall. The dagger he often used had its place of attachment on the other end of the shaft. Carved on the shaft was a dull crest, there was no way he could discern it. Saihme never mentioned what it was either. Only told him it was a relic.

It had been a while since he last used the weapon as a whole.

Shreds of pain, glittered a path of unhurt.

Cries of deceit, worry filled their lies in dirt.

A smile once known, in bliss it shattered.

For when caught astray, courage that faltered.

A wave of dizziness caused Sirius to stagger, crashing toward the desk nearest to him. He held one side of his head. His eyes sealed shut. What?

Images swirled before him, drilling, making him fall to his knees. He must have cursed, but he didn't hear his voice. He tried to glance at Saihme, but he was no longer there as usual.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. That hand assisted him to stand. A familiar voice spoke, but he couldn't piece out the words it said.

When the momentary daze subsided, Dyie was there, asking what he was doing on the floor. Even though this wasn't the first time something like this happened, Sirius couldn't understand what happened either.

These visions had been recurring for a while now. It's not like it was a conundrum of the mind, but it was getting annoying how he was at the receiving end of a vertigo.

Dyie adjusted his glasses. "We're about to gather in the lounge for your next assignment, but you must be tired. Take it easy for now."

Sirius figured it was about the notice. But it wouldn't hurt to take some time off for himself as Dyie closed the door of his room, leaving him in silence.

His head was heavy. There was a familiar tune sleeping within his lost memories. A flame in that distant light, waiting for ignition.

From the roof of Dyie's house outside Sirius's bedroom, Saihme lowered the book he kept on reading. He looked at the scenery of the city below and the lifeless valleys lining the horizon.

Under the cover of a creeping night rising from the city's boundaries, his abyssal black eyes glowed with so much promise.