Alliot didn't stop until he reached the outskirts of Wentouk. Not because he needed to rest—his undead body had no such requirements—but because his mind refused to process what he'd witnessed any further while in motion. The ancient ruins around him were familiar, comforting even, their crumbling contours a stark contrast to the chaos churning inside his head.

  He stood amid the broken stone pillars, his fingers tracing patterns on a moss-covered wall as if seeking stability from its solid presence. The night had descended fully now, the moon casting silver highlights across the rubble. In the distance, Heart of the Forest pulsed with its eternal rhythm, calling to him like a beacon.

  But Alliot couldn't face Ainorrh yet. Not until he found some order in his thoughts.

  One hundred lives. One hundred human lives. Snuffed out like candles in a breeze. Even if they were barbarian lives, it was… wasteful…

  Alliot didn't see much, only the reprise of the events near the town's wall. But the images refused to settle—rangers falling like withered leaves, their life energy sucked away in heartbeats. Their bodies crumpled, desiccated husks left as grim markers of Aira's passage. And then Lila. Dead, broken Lila transformed into... something else entirely.

  She was an enlightened now. But how? At what cost? Supposedly, she was dead before she was transformed. Unnatural! How was that even possible?

  He'd built his entire existence around duty, around order, around the natural progression of things. But this? This was an unbearable disorder, a fundamental violation of everything he believed about the enlightened way.

  "We don't force transformation," he whispered to the empty ruins. "It comes naturally. Or through the ritual. Not... not like this."

  A fallen column served as his seat as he sank down, head in his hands. The weight of what he'd witnessed pressed against him like a physical force. Aira had raised the dead. Not just animals, like that gnarlfang she'd mentioned. A human. Something even the most potent shamans couldn't accomplish.

  And there was something inside him that whispered how useful such power could be.

  That thought terrified him more than anything else.

  The Heart of the Forest hummed with activity even at this late hour. Enlightened moved between the towering trees with purpose, their eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. Alliot made his way through familiar paths, his steps automatic despite the heavy burden of his thoughts.

  Ainorrh was waiting for him in her favorite spot, not too far from the Source, as if she'd sensed his approach long before he arrived. And she probably did.

  The High Shaman of Wentouk sat cross-legged on a woven mat, her fingers tracing symbols in the air that left faint luminescent trails. Without looking up, she gestured for Alliot to enter.

  "You've returned sooner than expected," she said, her voice carrying a hint of judgment. "And alone."

  Alliot stood rigid just inside the doorway, his posture military in its precision. "High Shaman, I must report a—"

  "Sit," Ainorrh interrupted, finally looking up. Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Whatever troubles you so deeply can be discussed as equals."

  Equals. The word nearly made Alliot flinch. There was nothing equal about their positions, and they both knew it. Still, he complied, lowering himself to a sitting position across from her.

  "Aira killed approximately one hundred humans at Mountain View," he stated flatly. "Systematically. For their energy. To gather sufficient skill points."

  Ainorrh's expression remained unchanged, her fingers continuing their invisible pattern-making. "Skill points? Interesting. And?"

  The single word struck Alliot like a physical blow. "And? They were lives. Potential enlightened. Resources wasted."

  "Resources," Ainorrh repeated, a hint of something—amusement?—coloring her tone. "Is that your concern? The inefficiency of it all?"

  Heat rose to Alliot's face. "It was... wrong."

  "Wrong how?" Ainorrh countered. "Were they innocents? Or the same humans who tortured her companion? Who would have slaughtered both of them given the chance?"

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  "That's not the point," Alliot insisted. "The point is what she did after. She... she raised Lila from the dead. Transformed her. Without a proper ritual. Without a connection to the Source."

  Now Ainorrh's fingers stilled. For the first time, something like genuine surprise flickered across her features. "She revived a fully dead human? You're certain?"

  "Yes. Lila was dead. I felt her energy signature extinguish completely. And then... it wasn't. She was transformed. Into one of us."

  The chamber fell silent, the only sound the distant rustling of leaves from outside. Ainorrh's eyes took on a distant quality, focused on something far beyond the wooden walls of her dwelling. When she finally spoke, her voice had a new edge to it.

  "The aberrant has surpassed even my expectations," she said softly.

  "Aberrant," Alliot repeated, the unfamiliar term hanging between them. "Is that what you call her? Not an omniarc?"

  Ainorrh's gaze snapped back to him, sharp and assessing. "Been talking to your dissident friends again?" She waved away his startled expression. "Yes, I know about your little gatherings. They're harmless enough... mostly."

  She rose in a fluid motion, moving to a shelf where various containers sat in neat rows. Selecting one, she poured a dark liquid into two small cups and offered one to Alliot.

  "Drink. It will help center you."

  Alliot accepted the cup but didn't drink. "Why did you send me with her if you knew what she was capable of?"

  "I sent you because I needed to know exactly what she was capable of," Ainorrh corrected, sipping from her cup. "And you… You are as straightforward as an arrow. Running back to me as soon as you felt something going against the natural order. And now I've learned something about her abilities. More than I anticipated, in fact."

  "You used me."

  "I assigned you a duty," she countered. "Which you abandoned prematurely."

  Alliot set the cup down untouched, his hands trembling slightly. "I couldn't stay. Not after what I witnessed."

  "And yet you must return to her."

  "What?" Alliot's voice cracked uncharacteristically. "No. I cannot—"

  "You must," Ainorrh cut in, her tone hardening. "Our scouts report they're moving again. Likely heading toward Ziemrot. They'll pass close to our territory."

  "High Shaman, with respect—"

  "This isn't a request, Alliot." The air in the chamber seemed to thin, a subtle pressure building as Ainorrh's power flexed. "She trusts you, or at least accepts you. You may have ruined that. But you'll have to make an effort. We need that connection maintained."

  "To what end?" Alliot demanded, his careful control fraying. "So she can slaughter more humans? So she can raise more undead without proper ritual? Everything she does threatens our balance—"

  "Balance?" Ainorrh laughed, the sound sharp and without humor. "We've been balanced on the edge of extinction for centuries. Our numbers dwindle. The humans breed and multiply. Their technology may be primitive now, but for how long? Considering our life spans, it would be a mere blink of an eye before they would threaten us again. Would you prefer we wait until they rediscover how to hunt us efficiently?"

  She leaned forward, her eyes bright with intensity. "Aira is a tool, Alliot. A weapon we can direct. With her power at our disposal, we could reshape the relationship between enlightened and humans. We could ensure our survival for millennia to come."

  "At what cost?"

  "Whatever cost necessary," Ainorrh replied without hesitation. "And don't forget your place. You are a tool as well. Try not to outlive your usefulness."

  Alliot stared at her, truly seeing her for the first time. Had she always been this calculating? This ruthless? Or had power and time simply revealed what was always there?

  "The dissident group," he said slowly. "They said you were planning something. Something that would upset the balance between the enlightened settlements. Is Aira part of that plan?"

  Ainorrh's expression softened, becoming almost maternal. "Oh, Alliot. Always so direct. So... literal." She sighed. "Politics between the enlightened cities has grown stagnant, yes. Ziemrot hoards its earth-shaping. Lamcada keeps its forging techniques to itself. Veskai refuses to share elemental water advances. We are meant to be one people, yet we fracture ourselves over petty power struggles."

  She spread her hands. "Aira could change all that. She bridges the elements in ways we never considered possible. Imagine what we could learn, what we could become, if we embraced her methods rather than clinging to our rigid traditions."

  "And if the other cities resist this... change?"

  Ainorrh's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Change always comes, whether welcomed or not."

  The realization struck Alliot like a physical blow. Ainorrh wasn't just planning to use Aira against humans. She intended to use her against other enlightened settlements if necessary. The implications staggered him.

  "You'll reposition yourself to intercept them tomorrow," Ainorrh continued as if they'd been discussing something as mundane as patrol schedules. "You'll apologize for your abrupt departure. You'll claim it was necessary to report to me. And then you'll continue your mission as planned."

  "And if I refuse?"

  The air pressure in the room dropped suddenly, making Alliot's ears pop. Ainorrh hadn't moved, yet somehow, she seemed larger, more imposing.

  "You won't," she said simply. "Because despite your confusion, your fear, you understand duty. It's woven into your very being. And deep down, you know I'm right. The old ways are failing us. We need new paths forward."

  She was right about one thing, at least. Duty was the foundation of his existence. The bedrock upon which he'd built every belief, every action. To abandon it now would be to abandon himself entirely.

  But what if duty itself had become corrupted?