The winds howled across the plane of Bella. It was the latter half of the Season of Air, or as some preferred to call it, the Season of Winds. Precipitation, rain that sometimes turned to hail or a flurry of snow, battered the forlorn encampment near the swamps of Matahil. Inside a roughly made earthen house, a man’s rage whipped just as strongly as the winds.

Rhain Hervard, a Jade Circle Sorcerer, howled as his wounds oozed blood. That accursed woman! His Geist could barely aid in closing the punctures, hampered by the scorched and melted flesh where those freakish golden shards had swept past his guard and struck him.

He had underestimated her.

He certainly didn’t anticipate that she would carry a powerful artefact all by her lonesome. And it looked like a proper battle weapon, too. The Xylarchy would reward him for its capture and he would certainly receive something even just by reporting it.

He didn’t know what those foolish Verdanians had running through their rotten minds when they let a single Knight bear such power and unescorted at that. Perhaps it was a Telum with strict binding requirements. Who knew? Well, once he made the report, they would find out.

He grinned in anticipation and hunger, then grimaced when his movement pulled at the wounds.

The human healer, a baby-faced young man, nervously dabbed at the sores, carefully wiped at the blood and rubbed ointment into it. Once done, he gave a careful bow to Rhain and left the room. The Sorcerer barely noticed him leave.

He envisioned his Anima. The black yew Geist he acquired in his stay at Telrorth, the Xylarchy’s school for sorcery, had its roots wrapped around his core. Several charms hung beneath the bare branches, strips of paper with red ink runescript. He barely felt the bindings now though they chaffed so much when he first acquired them that he could barely sleep.

He sought a particular sigil, one made of twisted bronze and buried into the trunk. With his mental hands, he pressed against the runescript sigil. It pulsed and he felt something take notice of him. The weight of perception nearly crushed his Anima, and he quickly uttered a few words.

“Bella…plane…artefact…Verdanian…”

The roots of his Geist dug deeper into his core and he hissed in pain, though it quickly turned to acceptance, and even…pleasure. The presence sent a feeling of acknowledgement tinged with a little bit of approval. Rhain’s wounds ceased to matter and his Geist released leaves that drifted around his Anima, before settling towards the areas where his wounds were mirrored.

A wave of soothing warmth covered his body and when he opened his eyes, the punctures scattered across his torso had pink flesh replacing the burns. With a start, he realised that he had lost almost all the Animus he had gathered from the ambient Chaos and his mind felt stretched thin, close to the breaking point.

With a moan, he collapsed on his bed and fell unconscious.

When he woke up, he dressed and hurried to the healer’s office. He wasn’t the only Elder wounded. He felt a strange satisfaction at successfully getting one of the Vizugmonian Elders killed. Elder Naoko of the Kutin perished in the middle of battle. She bled to death hours after the general retreat. Still, that one of Tiath’s few Elder level figures was also gravely injured wasn’t cause for jubilation and he quickly stamped out any satisfaction he felt lest it reflect on his face.

The mood of the camp had changed, and not just because they ostensibly lost the battle. No, when Tiath’s reinforcements arrived, the beastmen had been wary, and no wonder. They had equal numbers, but their higher-level warriors, Elders, were threefold the remaining Vizugmonian Elder.

He found Eoghan laid up in bed with bandages covering half of his body. Even so, the stench of burned flesh permeated the air. Ironic, considering the Elder’s Geist was a Flame Tree, and he should have been well-versed in playing with fire.

Brighde, the Frost Pine warrior, sat by the bedside, nervously wringing her fingers. She glanced at Rhain when he entered and her lips twisted in shame and anger before she managed to talk.

“He’s not getting better…”

Rhain shook his head. Ordinary Geist melders didn’t have the connections he did and they didn’t have the reserves of power granted to Telrorth alum. The best thing to do was bring him back to Tiath, but even with an airship, that would take several days. Hopefully, Eoghan’s Geist was strong enough to hold his body together. Well, if he died, a new Fire Tree would grow in the midst of the swamplands.

“I will avenge him.”

“Don’t speak as if he’s dead!”

Rhain raised an eyebrow.

Brighde looked down at her lap and blushed. “I apologize, Sorcerer.”

“Hmph.” Rhain grunted dismissively. “We will make ready. Gather your troops. We will march to the Lucentian fort as soon as we can.”

“They’re exhausted and demoralised,” she complained. “At least wait until Haxe recovers.”

“That fool,” Rhain snorted. “Fine. I give two days. Then we march.”

Brighde bit her lip, then nodded. She knew of the artefact, of course, having tasted its blade. But Rhain could see a glimmer of avarice in her eyes.

Good. It would serve them well.

______

Through a haze of exhaustion, Yuriko scrubbed her hand over her head. Her fingers combed through her hair, moving easily across the silky smooth strands even though she hadn’t taken a bath recently.

Her thoughts were wandering, she knew, and she wrenched it back to the matter at hand. The three strangers who entered the tent looked oh so familiar, and she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, even though normally she would have better control of her tongue.

“Ma…Maru?”

Of the three, two were men, tall and lean. Both of them had sandy brown hair and hazel eyes. They each had a square, clean shaven jaw, and even the expression set on their faces, the stubborn yet focused determination that she often saw in her brothers, was there.

The woman, on the other hand, had features that were slightly different, but still close enough that Yuriko knew that all three were related. The two men both looked like Maru, though one was slightly shorter than the other. Well, they looked like Kato, too, but her second elder brother’s eyes were squintier than Marron’s or her Da’s.

The taller man grinned and said, “You don’t look much like a Davar, cousin.”

The woman jabbed her elbow into the taller man’s side, who grunted and shifted away.

“None of that now,” she said, before turning to Yuriko, Otlaca, and Irseso. She gave a short nod, a greeting between equals. “I am Layla Grehan Davar. These are my nephews, Aidan and Riley Siofra Davar. We have come a long way for my niece.”

She looked pointedly at Yuriko.

For her part, Yuriko was still staring. Her Da had never mentioned her relatives on his side. The only thing he said was that the Davars lived in the Core Plane of Ulmira and one would have to pass through the Delovine plane before getting there. What kind of coincidence was it that these Davars were here in Bella?

Her mind was in turmoil. Was she out of the woods, finally?

She could feel their presence. Their Anima radiating power. They felt as strong as Otlaca and Irseso. That was strange. She never felt someone’s Anima strength so keenly before.

With a start, she realised that her Anima was seeping past her skin. She could feel Aidan and Riley’s gazes on her.

“Greetings to you,” Otlaca said with a seated bow. “Have a seat, please.”

“That is not necessary,” Riley interjected. “We have no business with you.”

Otlaca’s head reared back in surprise. His face twitched with quickly suppressed emotion, but he quickly replied, “Come now, no need to be…cold. We merely offer the hospitality of this camp.”

“I’m afraid my nephew is right,” Layla said quietly. “We have no business with anyone other than Yuriko Davar. Pardon our bluntness but I must insist.”

The silence stretched on for a tense moment, before Otlaca and Irseso bowed their heads.

“Very well.” He nodded to Yuriko. “Elder Yuriko, if you please.”

Yuriko sprung to her feet and walked towards the conference tent’s entrance.

“My tent is nearby but I don’t think we’ll all fit there.”

Layla and the others shrugged and followed her outside. A glance back at the Lucentian Elders showed both with uneasy expressions. She supposed they had good cause.

The afternoon air was blustery, and the skies threatened rain. Yuriko led them to her quarters, a small tent that, she figured, should just barely fit all of them if they squeezed in.

“So, Yuriko, I hope you don’t mind if we call you by your first name,” Layla said.

Yuriko shook her head.

“No, I don’t mind. I’m…not entirely sure about you three, honestly.”

“Virgil never spoke about the family, didn’t he?” Layla raised an eyebrow. “Well, he’s twice my age so I don’t think he knew about me since he left Ulmira just as I was born.” She shrugged.

“Ah.” Yuriko nodded. They arrived at her tent and she held open the flaps for the others. “After you.”

Layla nodded but Riley and Aidan waved for her to precede them. Yuriko slipped inside, quickly followed by the two tall young men. Her bedroll was unmade and the dirty washbasin and bandage rags were still scattered around it. Layla pushed them aside and sat down cross-legged. Yuriko and others followed suit.

“Not that I doubt you, but well…” Yuriko began, “do you have any proof of your identities?”

“A reasonable precaution.” Layla said while the two men grimaced.

The three of them fished out something from their packs. They held out a small crystalline card, which looked much like Yuriko’s artefact license.

“Our Knight’s License card.”

Yuriko took a close look at the crystal while Layla summoned a bit of her Animus and pressed it against a runescript sigil. It glowed light green, a sign that the Animus signature matched. The sigil would blacken should the wrong Animus signature touch it, much like her own license card would. The names on the cards matched how they introduced themselves.

Yuriko let out a sigh of relief, and gave them a tremulous smile. Layla returned her smile, while the other two’s faces reddened.

“Convinced?” Layla asked.

“Yes.” Yuriko said as she fished out her artefact licence from her safe pouch, currently hanging from her neck, and repeated the same procedure, confirming her identity.

“Good. It’s nice to meet you, my wayward niece.”

Layla grinned after Yuriko put away the license card, then she opened her arms and enfolded Yuriko in an awkward hug. Well, it was awkward for her. Layla chuckled. The other two only held out their hands for Yuriko to shake, and oddly enough, both of their hands trembled slightly.

“What’s wrong?” she blurted out.

“Oh, don’t mind them, they’re trying to fight off your aura.” Layla chuckled. “Easier for me.”

“My aura?”

“You didn’t realise you had one? Your Anima has been releasing waves of influence.”

“It has?” Yuriko asked, bewildered.

“Ah, well, no matter. I don’t think you have it fully under your control.” Layla shook her head, “From your Mishala Heritage, I suppose. Anyway,” she continued, “no doubt you’re wondering about quite a few things.”

“Yes,” Yuriko nodded. “You don’t know how much of a relief it is to see other Imperials.”

“Haha,” Riley guffawed. “I guess I can understand that. We’re merchant marines and we often spend a lot of time away from home. But the Ebon Horizon is mostly crewed by Imperials, so it’s not so bad.”

“Says someone who’s fresh out of the Academy,” Aidan snickered.

“Hey, it’s been two long Seasons!”

“You graduated from which Academy?” Yuriko asked.

Riley shrugged. “Agaza. In Ulmira.”

“Oh, but why aren’t you in the Legions?”

“Not all of us want to work for the legions,” Aidan offered. “Well, this way, we’re still in the service of the Empire. Why? Did you want to go into the Legions?”

“Yes,” Yuriko said. “But I’m enrolled in Sharom, so it’s a bit of a workaround.”

“You’re from Sharom? Impossible! There’s no way someone from that egghead academy can fight like you do!” Riley blurted out.

Twack!

“Hmph!” Layla snorted while Riley bent over, clutching his head in pain. “Sharom students are also trained in self-defence.”

“That wasn’t self-defence! Well, hmmm...” Riley hummed. “Anyway, we’re going a bit off-topic. As I’ve said, we’re members of the Ebon Horizon, a Chaos Ship that plies the Chaos Sea and visits mostly untethered planes. Maybe you can call it a coincidence that we’re here, but maybe it was the Threads of Fate as well.”

Yuriko’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know of my circumstances?”

“Just what’s written on the bounty,” Layla shrugged. “That there was an accident and you were lost.”

“Bounty?”

“From your mother’s clan.” Layla smirked. “The Mishalas offered a ten million Sovereign bounty for your safe retrieval and we were just lucky to be at the correct place and time.”

“Ten…ten million!” Yuriko blurted out.

Were the Mishala Clan that rich? How many gold crowns was that? How many parfaits could she eat with that number? The thought made her mouth water as she daydreamed of the sweet confection, layered fruits, and cream! Oh, there was a higher denomination than gold, right? Jade coins? So that would be ten Jade Crowns?

“Yes, ten million,” Riley said sardonically. “Good thing, too, otherwise our captain would never have waited for you. Don’t worry, cuz, your worries are over.” He gave her a winning smile.

Yuriko sighed. At last. A way home.