The wind was cool and sharp, pushing the winter chill deep into bones. There was little else to be heard other than its howls, although this wasn’t a surprise considering the ongoing war: men and women had flocked to it like moths to a lamp. Up above, the moon lit the world, the pale light reflecting off the gentle waves. Orion sat on a dock, his boots just above the gloomy water, his eyes set to the distant shoreline, and his mind somewhere far away.

It had been a few hours since they had returned to the warehouse. The clean-up was now at full-force, tens of Seekers inside sorting through filthy notes, dirty in both body and content.

Steps sounded from the docks, bringing his thoughts back. The footsteps stopped right behind him and the person stood in silence, either at peace or lost for words. He figured out who it was when they ruffled his hair, causing him to raise his hands and edge forward to escape their vicious attack. Big mistake.

Luckily, the hand behind him caught his jacket, holding him up by the scruff of his neck as his feet dipped into the icy water.

“Let go, Kora,”

She stepped forward and flung him into the sea, though he managed to grab her outstretched arm and spun his way back onto solid ground. Seeing him glaring at her, she chortled, her laughter cutting through the wind’s cries.

“They’re done in there,” she said once she caught her breath, “Smith told us to meet him like two days later since he thinks the city will have calmed by then,”

“Why does he care what’s happening to the city? He’s pulling out anyway,” he replied, his frustration clear.

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t blame him; it’s not his fight. None of the other guilds is getting involved either, you know,” Just as he was about to interject, she continued, “Neither Rats nor the Lord are good people, Jax. This is really the best move as it means both of them directly hurt each other without the guilds as buffers between them,”

He dropped his argument and started walking, barely stifling his yawn. “Come on, I want to go home and sleep. Far too much shit today,”

“Hmm, aren’t you a gentleman? Didn’t think you had been waiting this long just to chaperone me home, though it is about time you noticed my beauty,”

He half-smirked, too tired to fully commit. “More the other way, isn’t it? Once them robbers see you, they’ll leave me alone,”

“Hmph,”

They walked for a few minutes in relative quiet, avoiding Hexham’s road which bore the largest scars from the riots. Orion enjoyed these moments, but he discovered all good things have an end when Kora opened her mouth again. It was minutes later when she was talking about something, maybe someone, maybe somewhere (he was too zoned out to care) that he interrupted her.

“Wait, what is Smith going to give us again?”

She stopped. “What?”

“What?” he answered.

“How do you not know?”

“Just tell me already if it’s so obvious,”

She sighed. “Think about it, he said we’re stronger than he thought we were. We’re technically 4-star Seekers now, so what happens at 5-stars?”

“The Meeting? … The Elixirs?”

“Boom, nice one, genius,” she said.

“But we’re not 5-stars…” he replied.

“Yeah, but he said it would be hard and Lilith said we were getting put ahead of her, so it’s got to be the Elixir process,”

“Wait, it’s painful?” he asked.

“Duh. They’re like making monsters out of their selves, of course, it involves a bit of pain,”

Looking ahead, Orion saw The Fat Munch. Unlike before, the inn wasn’t lit up and instead melded in with its surroundings. Entering, they saw a scene a world away from the morning bustle. A plump woman they knew as the innkeeper’s wife stood behind a table, her eyes widening as her husband on the other side of the room picked up an iron axe.

“What do you want?” he asked, anger seeping into his voice.

“Rey, that’s the kids. Put your axe down,” his wife said.

The innkeeper lowered the weapon but held a firm grip over its handle as he moved over to her. “Alright, you know where your rooms are. Don’t try anything funny, else,”

Nodding, Orion headed for the stairs. The inn was sparsely filled with few people dining and some more talking in hushed voices, none of them looking as if they had been involved in the riots.

Upstairs, he only had enough energy to lock the door and strip his bloody clothes before falling asleep.

Orion woke up to a hint of light from his curtains, realising it was early dawn. As he lay in the uncomfortable bed, his thoughts quickly turned to the fighting that had blazed on as he had slept. Pushing himself up, he took his crusted-over clothes into the bathroom and washed them till they looked clean, though they still reeked. He wrung them and hung them in his room as he bathed, before putting the wet clothes back on.

Leaving the room with his things, he stepped into the hallway and looked at Kora’s room, before turning and going downstairs. He cringed away from the eastern ale and opened his bag, taking out the small amount of coffee grains he had left. Coffee made and drunk, he left the inn, taking to Hexham’s road as he walked towards the Palace.

He realised knowing the damage would be bad and seeing it first-hand were completely different as sombrely passed the blood-shed streets. When he reached the market square, he saw no market - the stalls had been trampled to the ground, and the shops had become collateral once the fighting had intensified. Worst of all were the piles of bodies, all the corpses wearing masks with blank eyes and crooked lips.

Orion stayed at the square for a time, not thinking but simply absorbing what was around him, what had happened. While he was alone in this task, he wasn’t alone in the square as several other people found themselves drawn by the violence, some grieving, some thieving, and some simply passing by.

Once he had his fill, he followed the road up, soon arriving at the Temple. The grounds past the temple-gates were clean and green, no sign of corpses anywhere. However, there were bloodtrails on the path leading to the temple itself, something he figured were for the corpses being prayed for. Kovas’s priests were standing guard by the gates instead of Visgamar’s guardsmen, so Orion nodded to the stoic men and moved on, increasingly spotting piles of corpses until he reached what had been the thick of the fray.

Here, instead of piles, was a still sea of bodies, reeking of warfare, attracting scavengers and flies. Like before, he looked around for a while, taking in the scene instead of pointing fingers. Going further up the road, he finally saw Visgamar’s guards.

They stood around the Palace’s gates, which were battered and broken down, their faces haggard but their eyes sharp and vigilant, watching the crowd that had built up in front of them. As Orion focused on the guards, the whispers from around him soon reached his ears. Rats had died; Fatso had betrayed Rats; Rats had lived and taken the throne; Grima had finally revealed himself; Risadro had died to his own men.

Orion gulped as he looked around, finally letting go of the reins of his thoughts. The hell he stood in right now would be nothing compared to the aftermath of his revenge, he knew it. And it hurt him so much.