The room stank of decay, a stale scent like that of an elderly man on his deathbed. It would’ve made his eyes water if he cared enough to smell. Beady red eyes gleamed from the shadows and out came the rats. They raced across the floor like tiny black streaks of fur, scavenging the untouched food Alden had left out for him. Yet, Leor did not shoo them away. He had no will to move, to eat; for once, his stomach was silent. He simply sat and stared mindlessly at the timber between his feet. So still, in fact, the vermin came to test his passing.

Other than the smell, Leor could not say what the room looked like. He had not bothered to remember. All he knew for certain was the floor was wooden, and the room was painfully cold and lonely. It might as well have been made of solid ice. But the cold loneliness did not pain him as much as the dark. Weary, he fought back the two iron gates that were his eyelids by thumbing his shoulder wound. A white-hot pain shocked and peeled his eyes wide open. But with each blink, the pauses between became longer as the slumber settled — until pale emerald eyes stared back at him in his dreams, waking him again to repeat his torture.

How long had he been staring at the splintered oak between his feet? He wasn’t sure. Time seemed lost in this void of a room. He stared blankly at the blight eating away at the wood. It was unfair, he thought, that such a guiltless thing could succumb to a curse by just being. Right by the rot, Inazuma’s black steel stood tall. It was clean now but all he could see was blood inching down the edge.

“Ceri . . .” he murmured. “Must your gods’ be so cruel? First, they forsake my mother and father. And now, they take you. . .”

For the first time in years, a gripping emptiness crushed his chest as if a viper strangled his heart, a feeling he had not felt since his mentor’s silent departure. He was alone, a boy inside the husk of a man. Pressure welled up in his eyes, but the tears wouldn’t come. They stopped coming for a while now. Leor cursed them all: the so-called gods, the houses who follow them, the people of Logtown, the purblights, the man in black, Yui, and . . . Alden. How dare he ask me to attend the summons. Siding with her murders. Keeping his fealty. Have you no shame, Alden?

Yui’s words echoed in his head: I pray you live long enough to see it.

He scoffed. “Live. Perhaps that is my sin.”

“Living is not a sin, friend.”

Leor lifted his head and found the man in black leaning against the wall, barely visible in the shadows. He had not heard him enter but the sight of the man reignited the dwindling flame inside him. He tried to stand and wanted nothing more than to pound his face in until the smirk on the man’s face was dented inward and gory, giving the rodents another meal to devour. However, his injury had other plans and kept him frozen to the ground.

“Lively now, aren’t we?” the man in black said, grinning. “You looked like a dying dog just a moment ago.”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Leor growled as he struggled to his feet and failed again. The pain came back tenfold, he almost lost consciousness.

“Me? For what, my friend? I wasn’t the one who killed your girlfriend.”

“The knight you've brought along with you!”

The man in black shook his head and tsked. “No, no. You have it all wrong, Leor. That man was not of my doing. I’m dressed in black and he was in Licht Order attire. See?” He pinched his sleeve and flapped it, mocking Leor’s blindness. “Different houses.”

“You think this a joke? And keep my name out of your mouth.”

“You think I’d risk my neck to come here over a joke?”

Then Leor remembered what the man had said before leaving him to face the knight. He snatched Inazuma, its edge dug into his flesh. “Come and try to take this ring and I swear I’ll bring you to hell with me.”

“Oh, right. I did say that I’d be back for it, didn’t I?” The man in black smiled. “Well, that’s in the past now. Things changed.”

“. . . then if you don’t need anything else, leave. I have nothing to say to a rat dressed in man’s clothes.”

“My, Leor, what a sharp tongue you have.” The man laughed and looked sarcastically offended. “Did the girl like it too?”

“I’ll —”

“Kill you, right? Got it. You’ve said your empty threats enough times now, don’t ya think?” The man in black sat at the table. Every step of his was deftly silent. The rats scurried a tad too late. He swatted a couple with a single stroke of his arm and they popped against the wall like balloons of blood. “Now that we’re done with the banter, let’s get down to business. You may call me Valmir.”

Leor spun on his ass, turning his cheek from the unwanted visitor. “I don’t care. Leave. I won’t hear it.”

“What are you, a child?” Valmir sighed. “And here I came to offer retribution in the name of your lover.”

His ears twitched at the claim, but he did not let his interest show. He narrowed his eyes and tried to read Valmir’s face but it was well hidden in the dark. He was wary of the man who came from nowhere, but temptation gnawed his judgment. “What games are you playing?”

Valmir’s lip twisted up as if he were a hunter approaching the prey caught in his trap. “A burning rage resides within you. You and I, both born of the same kind. Seeing through the thick veil the lords placed over humanity as they quench their endless thirst for more. Only fools fail to see through the lies in the written history and heroic tales of ancient times. What good is all that power if the atrocities of man cannot be tamed?”

‘The old war ended for a new one to take its place. Albeit, a different one, but does it really matter? It's all the same. Our lords now tread the same path as the very gods they replaced. Is this our fate for wielding power that is not ours to wield?”

Leor cocked his head. He understood Valmir’s sentiment up until the last point. “What does that have to do with me?”

‘The rats whisper of another pilgrimage into the Haze. Join the houses in their hunt and seek the answer that lies beyond the Walls erected by the lords. There, in Lands Lost, the answers await you.”

“You expect me to travel that hellish land without good reason?”

Valmir shrugged. “The choice to venture is yours alone. Surely, it's that or your head.” The muffled chime of a bell came from within Valmir’s pocket. “Oh, my time is up. Before I take my leave, ponder my words, o’ purblight: A man, who holds the power to change but refuses to wield it, is nothing more than a fool who has no right to complain. Are you such a fool?”

And like that, Valmir sunk into the shadows, gone without a trace. And, the rats with him.

Within moments, Alden creaked through the door with a fresh plate of food and glanced around the solar. “Were you speaking with someone?”

The wet from his cloak dripped onto the floor, filling the silence between them with the false pitter-patter of rain. The flicker of fire made their shadows dance along the walls. Leor shifted in his seat and did not meet Alden’s gaze or question. Words would not come to him nor could he bring himself to look at the man who sided with Ceri’s killer. Alden crossed over to the table.

“I see you still haven’t eaten.” Alden said flatly. The utensils rattled as the tray touched the table. “Food is a source of strength. You should eat. Have you reconsidered your attendance to the summons?”

Leor remained tight-lipped. At this point, he’d rather have Valmir speak his nonsense.

“. . . That is quite alright, Leor. Then let us go for a walk, shall we? It’s time to see her off.” His voice somber and hushed. “Keep your hood up.”

The rain battered Leor’s head, every droplet a stinging reminder of dreadful days. Must the rain accompany all tragedies? The wet, frosty wind bit his cheeks as he followed Alden through the night. Ghosts roamed where townsfolk used to be, but their wandering eyes still remained. Shadows peeked through the amber glow of window panes, wondering who dared walk the streets amidst the turmoil, and still they kept their lips sealed. It was expected, but Leor thought them as pathetic cowards.

Outside the church was much the same: the purblights all gone, guards kept stationed outside, torches burned bright near the large bronze doors made for giants, and light shone through the stained glass windows that cast shadows of the sigils of Tridon Houses before the church stoop. As they passed the front garden, Leor heard Ceri’s bickering voice call his name from the dark foliage. The skin on his cheek where she often caressed tingled. He had found it strange and annoying at first, but now he dreamed for more of their quarrels.

Maria and Yui waited for them beneath the dome. The floors were glossed with marble and the nave was dressed with a red velvet carpet. Empty pews lined the aisles of the basilica. Monolithic statues of each lord of the seven realms watched them cross. Alden told Leor their names as they passed: closest to the entrance was Eleena the Dark Lordess and Gale the Conjuror of Winds, then came Khalon the Mountain Carver and Azura the Conqueror of Flames, and nearest to the crossing was Gwyn the King’s Shadow and Naiomi the Oceanhart. Ludwig the Hero dwarfed the other lords, posing high and mighty at the center of the church with a greatsword stabbed by his feet in one hand and the Black Hawk banner in the other. Yet, like all retellings and arts, it was Ludwig’s victorious smile that commanded the most attention whether it was his followers’ adoration or Leor’s contempt.

It must have taken years to complete, Leor thought. The etchings of their garments looked as smooth as real silk and the sheer size was grander than the bell tower. He imagined this is what Yoru saw looking up at humans.

“Yoru,” Leor mumbled at his realization. He hadn’t seen the wolfling since that day nor did he know what happened to him after passing out.

A shadow lunged at him. Yoru. The wolfing heard his call and came running, wagging its black tail, whimpering. Leor gave him a quick petting. Yoru’s silver eye glistened with sorrow.

“I had him treated with healing waters. His injuries were vital for such a young pup.” Alden told him.

Thanks, Leor wanted to say but the words refused to leave his throat. He made do with a simple nod.

“Ceri fought so valiantly to keep him, I couldn’t just let him suffer.” The slightest smile crossed his lips before Alden shook his head. “Well, let’s not keep her waiting, shall we?”

Before Ludwig’s statue, Maria drew blood from her palm with a ceremonial dagger. Blood trickled down the blade and onto the bolt-shaped handguard. She curled her hand into a fist, dripping blood onto the gray stone altar fashioned from the statue’s pedestal. As if tasting the offering, the gray sculpture shook the church grounds and bled a deep violet hue, the hairs on Leor’s arms danced to the static in the air. Yoru shivered in his arms. A final thud ended the tremors. A slab of the pedestal folded inward, revealing a doorway leading to a fire-lit stone and iron platform. Once they entered, the slab slammed shut and the platform rumbled then clunked before descending into the dark depths. Leor had no idea where they were headed, but his gut did not like rising from its position. He thanked himself for not eating prior.

The platform came to a halt before a short hallway, tiny specks of light drifted from the sole source of radiance at the end of the dark passage like golden balls of pollen blowing in the wind. Stepping into the light, he was met with green pastures and ominous silence, a silence that almost sang. Was it just him? But what caught his attention was the imposing tree in the distance. It was a couple of leagues from where they stood but the translucent yellow branches stretched well past their heads across the blue sky, sprinkling the specks of light like autumn leaves.

Blue skies? Leor questioned himself. They were underground, weren’t they?

Four horses descended from the light, their bodies glass-like. Leor couldn’t help but compare them to runners. Once ahorse, they galloped through the air towards the foreboding tree. Yoru let his tongue flap in the wind with a joyous smile. Leor observed the plains below. Other than the tree, the only other landscapes were rolling hills and . . . ice? Rocks? He couldn’t quite make out what they were, but they extended further than the horizon. Now that he thought about it, how far does this place go? Where were they?

“The Ethereal Plains,” Alden said to him, sensing his curiosity. “The sacred burial grounds for devout followers to await judgment. The place she’d want to be buried.”

Leor wondered about that. What could there be to judge in death?

The tree was even larger than he could’ve imagined; it was like staring up at a mountain. Translucent roots sprouted in and out of the ground as if stitching the earth together with golden thread. The area glowed so bright and warm, it could’ve been mistaken for sunlight. At the tree’s stump, there she was, hands laid gently over her abdomen, in a fresh white dress, atop an altar made of interwoven glassy roots. Leor swallowed hard. He thought he was ready but his heart turned to stone at the sight of her.

The ladies went first: Maria said her prayers into clasped hands, Yui burned incense and bowed in silence, then placed them aside in a clay pot of ash. Once they were finished, they left to tend the horses, but not without eyeing Leor. Small wonder why they were upset with him, Leor thought, but he knew for different reasons. Alden knelt by the altar while Leor stood beside her lifeless body. Her skin had turned a painful gray, her lips lost their lovely pink peachiness. He brushed her hair to the side and caressed her cheek. It stole the warmth from his body. If only he could give her all his warmth, he thought.

“Peculiar, isn’t it? Though our flesh may appear untainted, the heart beneath it may as well be afflicted with incurable poison.” Alden said to him in a low, dragging voice. His lids sunken well over his eyes. “My dear Ceri was one such soul. When I adopted her as my own, she was much like you — distant and unwelcoming. I feared she’d stay like that forever until one day she came running to me with the brightest little smile that matched her wondrous emerald eyes, telling me she wanted to mend the ties with purblights and the faithful. . . She was but a girl then.”

Leor gazed down at Ceri’s pale face, gently caressing her cold hand with his thumb, and imagined how wild the young Ceri must have been. It brought a bitter smile to his face.

“I’ve herded many souls before the Soul Tree and never has the burden lightened. Even now, it weighs greatly on my shoulders. All that’s left is to pray Lord Ludwig will bestow his graceful hand over her soul and bring her back within our time.”

His eyebrows pinched. Leor gave him a sideways glance, prodding for an explanation.

“Hm. I guess even this knowledge does not reach purblights.” Alden said, surprised. He let a stray flake of light float into his palm. “Those loyal to the lords or exquisite souls are granted rebirth. Only Lord Ludwig has the power to manipulate souls, but he hasn’t passed his judgment for years now. And no one knows why but the lord himself.”

The speck of light flew off his palm despite the absence of wind. Alden gripped Leor’s shoulder firmly as he stared at the fluttering particles, taking a long silence before speaking again.

“I hold great affection for Lord Ludwig and the other house lords and all they have done for us, but even I am not so blind to the folly of their ruling. I do what I must to hold the balance between the realms. But sadly, I am just a man. Not born from the lords’ seed, not a bearer of a fragmented soul, nor am I a knight.”

His grip tightened and he met Leor’s eyes with solemn resolve.

“But you, Leor, are special. Not ever has anyone wielded lightning other than the hero himself. Not his children or his children’s children. In honor of our history and our dear Ceri, I’ll warn you. There are no limits to what people may do to obtain such power. Attend the summons or not, the ill-intended will come for you and the ring.”

For the first time in days, Leor’s wits were with him, his ambitions anew and clear. His dreams came flashing: the black hawk, the golden crystal tree, the brilliant snow, and the glint of green. Without a doubt, that dream took place here. He whispered, “The trials. . .” Alden had a fearful look in his eyes as if Leor had gone mad. He recalled what Ceri had said to him in the Edgewoods, ''We are not predestined to become anything. We are free to choose our fates as we desire.” The words came to him after being lost for days.

“No need for ill tidings. I shall go to the summons,” Leor said, unwavering. His voice hoarse from the lack of water and speech. He reached within his cloak and slid Inazuma’s shard beneath her clasped hands, silently promising to come back for them. “And I will keep the fire of her dream alive until she can carry the torch herself once more.”