LOGIN“Salvaxe, if you are coming with us, then get some rest. We will need all hands-on deck tomorrow.” Mar turned to Emile, his expressions softening despite himself. “I am not,” Salvaxe said, causing a frown to form above Emile’s eyes. “I am staying behind to free the other prisoners and get them on their feet.” Mar’s brows shot up. He looked at the younger man, then at the darkened expression on his daughter’s face. “You are staying be
Escuridade turned drying her hands on a rag. “Choose wisely when Mar asks where you want to drop anchor. He will give you one shot at it.” Luz glanced at Amelia, the back to Escuridade. “And what is waiting for us at those ruins? Beyond whatever Mestre Escuro expects us to find?” Escuridade’s purple eyes met his– steady, unreadable. “Nothing that wants to be found, commander.” She cleared her throat. “There is a girl with Mar, his daughter Emile. She seems to have the gift of foresight. Head her words carefully.” Luz’s hand stilled on the hilt of his sword. “Foresight,” he echoed, his word tasting like ash. he had seen enough of the future to know it was rarely kind.Escuridade nodded once. “Emile, she sees things. Shadows before they fall. Words before they are spoken.” She paused, her gaze sharpening. “She will likely see you, Luz not as you appear, but as you are.” A heavy
Luz’s fingers comb through the thin ash-silver strands, pulling it smoothly away from his eyes and cheeks. He pauses briefly as he collects all of the hair at the back of his head, using one hand to hold the gathered length while the other smooths downs tray strands along his temples and crown. Then he twisted the gathered ash-silver hair several times, folding it back against itself to form a compact man bun high at the back of his head. With one hand holding the bun in place, her wraps a dark leather tie around it several times, pulling it firmly until the bun is severe. A few shorted ash-silver strands remain loose around his face. he brushed one stray lock behind his ear before lowering his hands.Luz reached for the chain mail shirt, lifting the heavy mesh garment with both hands and pulling it over his head. The chainmail settled heavily across his shoulders and chest. “Mar’s ship will not wait forever,” he said as he reached for the bronze breas
Escuridade held out robes and a cloak in different shades of brown to Luz. “This is for her to wear,” she said placing the clothes on a wardrobe. “I will leave it to you to wake her.” Escuridade turned and left the room. Luz watched her leave, the heavy door clicking shut behind her. The silence that followed was abrupt, the room feeling smaller and colder without her presence. He turned to the wardrobe, picking up the clothes she had left for Amelia. They were simple, practical fabric– not the fine linens of a noble, but warm and sturdy. He sat back down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. Amelia was still asleep, her breathing shallow and even, one arm draped across the space where he had been lying only moment before.Luz reached out, his fingers hovering just above Amelia’s shoulder before finally settling there. He shook her gently. “Amelia,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, stripped of it
“Salvaxe, if you are coming with us, then get some rest. We will need all hands-on deck tomorrow.” Mar turned to Emile, his expressions softening despite himself. “I am not,” Salvaxe said, causing a frown to form above Emile’s eyes. “I am staying behind to free the other prisoners and get them on their feet.” Mar’s brows shot up. He looked at the younger man, then at the darkened expression on his daughter’s face. “You are staying behind to play liberator?” Mar asked, his voice sceptical. “In a city that was sacked less than twelve hours ago? that sounds like a suicide mission, kid.” Emile’s frown deepened. She stepped closer to Salvaxe, her fingers tightening on his sleeve.“He has to,” Emile said quietly, her amber eyes fixed on Salvaxe. “There are others like us. People who do not have Escuro’s army to protect them.” Mar watched them, the tension in his own sho
Escuro did not flinch. He met Mar’s gaze with the same unnerving calm he had possessed years ago. “You do not need to trust me,” Escuro said finally standing. “Trust Luz. When I stood at the ruins of the grand city of Dourado, he offered himself up to safe those that remained. He does not fight for me. He fights for others. For freedom from the Santo Order and from me. He is the hero.” Mar’s expression flickered. “A man who fights against you while working for you,” Mar mused, his voice low. “That sounds like a man with a very sharp blade and an even sharper mind.” He looked at Emile, who remained standing near Escuro, her gaze distant as if she were watching something far beyond the tavern walls.Emile seemed tethered to Escuro now, in a way he could not understand. “If this Luz is real,” Mar said, turning back to Escuro. “And if he can do what you are asking– destroy the fountain, end this c
Mar closed the distance in two strides, his arms wrapping around Emile with a ferocity that was almost painful. He pulled her against his chest, burring his face in her mahogany hair, his shoulders shaking as the first sob tore free from his throat. “I never did,” he choked out, his voice thick and raw. “Not for a single day. Not for one damn day, Emile.” He held her like she might dissolve if her loosened his grip, his hands pressing into her back as if trying to anchor her to the world. Around them, the tavern seemed to fade– the smell of smoke, the distant sounds of the conquered city, Escuro watching for the table– none of its mattered. He pulled back just enough to cup her face in both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that spilled down her cheeks.“Strom has passed,” Emile muttered. “But hangs above the deep waters like lighting waiting to stroke.” Mar’s hands stilled on her cheeks. The words were
“That is not you fate,” Luz declared firmly, his voice carrying the authority of someone used to giving orders that were obeyed without question. “You are not some chattel to be bartered away to the highest bidder.” He closed the distance between them again in two long strides, his armoured form
“Found a way?” his voice rose sharply, echoing in the black tent. “There was no way! You think I wanted to abandon you? To watch you grown up without me while I became this… this monster?” he gestured wildly at his corrupted form, at the dark marks creeping up his neck and the crimson sigils puls
“What in the bloody hell are you doing here?” Luz’s voice emerged rougher than intended, betraying both anger and something deeper he couldn’t quite name. His grip tightened on the hilt until his knuckles turned white against the black veins crawling up his fingers. “Luz?” Amelia asked softly, he
The Corrompido army settled into a makeshift encampment along a mountainside, their tents scattering amongst the gravestones of an old graveyard. Luz dismounted near a cluster of officers’ tents, his shadow-dark horse whickering softly as it was led away by a Corrompido soldier. He moved with pra







