Yig leaned forward across the table, chatting lively with Nil. Blū sat there too, half-listening to the conversation but mostly watching the scenery pass outside the window. The day had been tougher than usual. He’d worn himself out fighting Yig, making all the training that followed even more demanding. And yet, although Yig had seemed far more exhausted, he kept pushing the session longer and longer. Silver had agreed to stay with him until the daylight finally faded.

  “Wait, so how many were there?” Yig asked eagerly, drawing Blū’s attention back to the conversation.

  “One hundred—some say more—and he fought all of them off by himself,” Nil answered, eyes bright with excitement.

  “Who was that?” Blū asked.

  “The Golden Monk of the White Isles. Atop the mountain his family called home, he fought off over a hundred barbaric bandits.”

  “Oh yeah. Good tale.”

  “Where are the White Isles?” Yig continued.

  Nil smiled. “Perhaps you won’t believe me, but they’re not of this world. They come from another.”

  “Why wouldn’t I believe you? Of course there are other worlds! I’m going to visit them!”

  “Ah yes, I forgot. You are the one who will open the gates to paradise,” Nil replied with a chuckle. “But unlike you, some aren’t as open to the idea.”

  “Tell me about it. Hardly anyone in Chestnut believed in Mechilpinna, even though they live in it.”

  “Why do you believe in the World Tree?” Blū asked Yig.

  “Because that means I’ve got more places to explore.”

  “But… how did you come across the subject in a secluded place like Chestnut?”

  “It was in a book my mother used to read to me.” Yig reached into the bag hanging from his chair and pulled out a book sewn with green fabric, depicting a large tree. “See?” he said, pointing to the cover. “That’s the World Tree on the front. It talks about Mechilpinna, the Storm, the Goddesses…”

  Nil took the book and flipped through the pages, pausing on certain details. “What are your thoughts on the goddesses?”

  Yig shrugged. “They’re long gone—probably up in the sky or something. So, I don’t really care.”

  Nil laughed, and Blū smiled faintly. “Don’t count all the gods out,” he said. “You can still find their will in many places.”

  “Like where?”

  Blū reached into his pocket and pulled out a stone pendant, its string flopping over his wrist. It was shaped like a cat sitting on its hind legs, marked with rune-like carvings.

  “Like me.”

  Yig leaned in, eyeing the sculpture. “What god is that?”

  Blū slid it back into his pocket. “The Jaguar God, Sum.”

  “What does he do?”

  “Blū has what is called ‘favour’ with Sum,” Nil explained. “With a god’s strength and knowledge, they can bestow aura upon a mortal, granting them a small piece of their power.”

  “He makes it sound easy,” Blū cut in. “There’s only so much a body can take. You’ve got to train yourself to handle more and more of your god’s aura.”

  “There’s also a downside. Like Silver explained to you, using another’s Levula influences your own, making it harder to develop something unique. And if the god ever decides to take their aura back, that includes any Levula you gained from it.”

  “Hey!” They turned to Silver, only then noticing he’d entered. “I need you two to grab something from the grocer.”

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  Onions and radishes—that’s what Blū and Yig were searching for as they neared the bottom of the temple steps. Apparently, Silver hadn’t worn them down enough today, and now they were running errands too. Blū wouldn’t have been surprised if this was some strange part of training. Still, Yig skipped joyfully beside him, clearly excited just to explore.

  “Where do you get this energy from?” Blū asked.

  “I don’t know. When I’m tired, I’m tired.”

  “You said you’re from Chestnut, right? How long have you been away?”

  “I think… a little over a week now.”

  “Oh, so you practiced your Exure in Chestnut?”

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  “A little. But I didn’t know what aura was.”

  “You didn’t know you were training your aura?”

  “No. At least, that’s what the Stearna told me.”

  Truth and fiction were hard to separate with this man. Talking to him sometimes felt like navigating a clever illusion—like a calculated trickster playing the fool. Yet, at the same time, he felt so sincere.

  “Don’t think about it too hard,” Sil said, startling them both. They scanned the area until they spotted her on the hillside nearby, cloaked by the darkness of night. She stepped forward, visible now only because she wanted to be. “Trying to make sense of what he says just hurts your head.”

  Yig grinned. “I had someone growing up who understood me perfectly, so I guess I never learned to talk any other way.”

  Even in the evening, the marketplace buzzed with life. Vendors called out to passersby, offering a variety of breads, vegetables, and spices. Yig examined every stall, despite only needing a few ingredients. Spartan stood on his shoulder, leaning forward to catch a whiff. Blū was glad he was the one carrying Silver’s money—he didn’t want to imagine how much Yig would spend if given the chance.

  Sil walked beside Blū, spinning slowly as the crowd bustled around them. She seemed to share Yig’s fascination, though she expressed it more calmly—more… normally.

  “He told me he only left his home a few weeks ago,” Blū said. “How long have you been traveling with him?”

  Sil hesitated, knowing how it might sound. “Two days.”

  “That’s a lot of trust to put in someone you just met.”

  “Yeah, well… he doesn’t seem like someone with much to hide. You get a good feel for him pretty quickly.”

  Blū thought it was crazy—that these people were crazy. He watched Yig prance from stall to stall, greeting each vendor with the same wild energy. Maybe the man really did believe he’d open the Gates to Paradise. A nice thought, for sure. But with only a few weeks of experience, he hadn’t yet been struck by the harshness of reality. Once it hit, those dreams would crumble—like so many others before him. Blū had seen it before. Even if Yig wasn’t in it for the coin, even if he truly wanted to help people… few could withstand the toll of the unrelenting darkness that surrounded them.

  “Hello!” a voice called from behind Blū. As he turned his head, he realized it was a guard—greeting Sil for some reason.

  “Hi, Joe, right?” Sil replied. “Everything going al—”

  The guard abruptly bowed, startling even Sil. “Thank you again for yesterday.”

  “It’s alright, really,” she said, gesturing for Joe to stand. “I was happy to help. Have you found that partner of yours yet?”

  “No,” Joe sighed. “He likes to go off and do his own thing.”

  Sil scowled. “Maybe your captain should be giving him a hard time for once.”

  Joe blushed. “I appreciate that, but you’ve got the captain all wrong. I know he seems aggressive, but he really does care about the people of Moonset.”

  “If you say so.” Sil still seemed upset. But then she perked up, as if struck by a realization. “Can I ask you something?”

  Joe nodded. “Sure. I did say I owed you.”

  “Some Moonset guards were spotted up in Chestnut. Do you know why they’d be all the way up there?”

  “Umm… the captain has been sending some of our guards out to assist other towns and villages. Maybe that’s why.”

  “Yeah… maybe.”

  “Anyway, I’ve got to continue patrol, but it was nice seeing you again.”

  They exchanged pleasantries, and Sil let the man go on his way. Not long after, Yig strolled up to Blū with a bag of items.

  “Got what we needed,” he said with a grin, holding the bag up to eye level.

  “Really? Great…” Blū’s usual stoic posture broke into nervous concern, his voice rising two pitches higher. “Wait, how’d you pay for those?”

  “Oh yeah. I forgot about that part,” Yig answered nonchalantly.

  In a panicked frenzy, Blū dashed to the stalls Yig pointed out, fumbling out the coins as fast as he could. The vendors were not exactly pleased. Only after returning did he think to ask how many Yig had actually bought.

  “Six each, I think,” Yig replied, rummaging through his bag.

  “That should be enough. Let’s head back.”

  “Wait,” Sil interjected, “you live here, right?”

  “What gave it away?”

  Yig gave the sarcasm a moment’s thought, then let out a giggle—like a cheeky young boy getting away with mischief.

  “I want to ask about the Moonset guards,” she continued. “Some of them showed up in Yig’s hometown a month ago, and I’ve heard a rumor that guards are bringing outsiders into Moonset, and then they’re never seen again.”

  “Who’d you hear that from?” Blū asked.

  “Doesn’t matter. I just need you to tell me anything you might know.”

  Yig grinned and patted Sil on the back. “Wow, you’re great at getting information.”

  “Hold on. You mentioned these ‘captured outsiders’ escorted by guards,” Blū said. “What’s the best explanation you’ve heard for it?”

  “I don’t know… maybe it’s to meet a quota?”

  “Possibly. But that would mean increasing their arrest-to-population ratio. The Union of Guards usually wanted fewer arrests, not more. They get paid the same either way.”

  “Good point. Okay, what about labor?”

  “Wouldn’t your mystery source have seen them, then?”

  “Not if they’re being transported elsewhere.”

  “Then why bring them to Moonset at all? Think—what purpose could they serve?”

  “We’ve said quotas and labor. Maybe… bribery?”

  “What about friends?” Yig said. “People do need friends.”

  “Sacrifice?” Sil and Yig turned to Blū, slightly unsettled. But he stayed straight-faced. “You believe in The Storm,” he said, pointing to Yig. “Then you must believe anyone can be corrupted, no?”

  “I don’t think I can be,” Yig answered confidently.

  “Surath is the conclusion when nothing else makes sense,” Sil said. “Don’t jump to that idea too quickly.”

  “Alright then,” Blū scoffed. “Give me another conclusion. If they’re not being sold into slavery, then what is happening? They can’t all be hiding in the Guard Station.”

  Sil paused for a moment. “Fine. Then how do we prove it?”

  Blū grinned. “You Stearna focus too much on your stealth arts. You forget the overwhelming utility of aura as it is.”

  He stepped forward, planting his foot flat on the pavement, trying to focus despite the chaos of the market. With a breath, he let his aura flurry outward—thin, extending thirty, maybe forty feet. Stretched so far, his aura could only pick up on basic traits in the life around him: the fear of missing a stall before nightfall; the thrill of preparing for tomorrow’s festival; the freedom of the birds soaring overhead. But then, something frightening.

  He held his nerve, spine tingling, and concentrated more aura in that direction. Lucky. He’d been well and truly lucky to find it so quickly, saving him the trouble of wandering through Moonset.

  He turned and locked eyes with Sil, wearing a smug smirk. “Found it.”

  Yig cheered, Spartan celebrating with him.

  “Found what?” Sil asked.

  Blū grinned. “Feels like Surath to me.”

  Sil rolled her eyes. “You’re just saying that to prove me wrong.”

  “Maybe we should go find out.”

  “Alright,” Sil scoffed. “Where is it, then?”

  “The Guard Station.”