From the moment they set foot on Lastrel, Urian knew something terrible would happen. He was a warrior who had captured hundreds of targets and had gone through hundreds of conflicts to accomplish his goals. Years of experience were on his back.

From a luxurious room in The Calm Sea, a luxury inn where they stayed, the marked warrior awaited the return of Almond with the news. The tavern was old, made of white stone, and no matter how many luxuries it had, it was neglected. However, that didn't matter to the owners, who dedicated themselves to indulging him and the other marked men upon seeing them arrive in such good clothes.

Urian watched from the balcony of his room the insignificance of mundane lives. None of these people would do anything beyond working their fingers to the bone and then dying; none would do a feat or end a monstrous creature. Everyday life was something he never wished to try.

The inn had granted women to him and his co-workers, but he soon shooed away them to be alone again.

A young, voluptuous girl with a painted smile approached him, trying to seduce him with her charms, "You look stressed. What if..."

"Get lost," he ordered with disinterest to those women with ample cleavage and silken legs.

The woman watched him with an eyebrow, "Fine..."

The women went through the archway to the other room, where Torkell would enjoy their presence, just as he was doing.

Then, Almond made his presence known, well dressed and wearing a fine cloak and wide-brimmed wine hat.

"I see you are enjoying yourself, Urian," Almond said as he gestured to make the cloak and hat disappear.

Urian had only been waiting for the wizard and preparing his armor and weaponry. However, hunting Ronan was not going to be easy, for, in the words of people who fight him, "Ronan was a sneaky rat."

"Does the little madman have his whole plan ready?" the warrior, who lay in a chair sharpening his short sword in a gruff voice.

Almond watched him out of his eye. The warrior was not sparing in showing the contempt he had for them.

"Tyloh has his men taking care of the trap," replied the wizard. "If all goes well, he'll blow the guard garrison to pieces and blow up several buildings with gunpowder from the cannons he stole."

"How kind of you to bring his friends," the warrior expressed sarcastically. "you let a bunch of madmen struts around the city..."

"The cardinal gave us freedom with our methods," replied Almond as he walked to the balcony. "He must be too desperate to have agreed to this plan. But it doesn't matter if this makes us martyrs..."

"You can keep with that religious nonsense," snarled Urian, who quickly had Almond's eyes. "I just want the gold. If you don't want your share of the payment, you can give it to me. After all, what good are wealth to a god..."

"You talk like someone who knows a lot, Urian," the thinly mustachioed wizard pointed out. "But do you know what you do?"

Urian rose from his seat and walked over to Almond. The silence of his step contrasted his armor's sounds and the lusty noises from the next room. Thus, the warrior approached Almond and exchanged glances with him. The look of both was scornful of the other.

"Don't take me for a novice," exclaimed Urian. "I can track, catch or kill whoever I need to..."

Almond watched him flexing his fingers, ready to cast a spell.

Quickly, Urian raised his hand, and Almond tensed his fingers.

The warrior caught a knife in mid-air, one that had been thrown from across the street, over the rooftops.

On the other side, on the gabled roof of a wooden building that seemed to give way to the sea's moisture, Tyloh was grinning as if this had been a joke.

Almond and Urian watched him and pointed to the path Ronan and his companions had taken. Following that, The Butcher slipped between the rooftops once more.

Without further ado, the rest of the marking group set out again into the streets of that city in search of their objective.

Urian was imposing before the inhabitants of Lastrel with his great height and his armor ostentatious. His polished plates allowed him to observe the circular patterns of his equipment, but what always caught the attention of passersby were the fabrics or furs that hung from his armor as ornaments. On that occasion, he had the skin of a feline known as Ceniz; the skin he wore was red with several black stripes.

The warrior accompanied his work colleagues and strutted with a confident stride, convinced that they would run from the place.

Finally, they found Ronan, and something in himself unsettled the warrior about the situation. Still, the warrior stood with an undaunted face under his helmet with a stoic bearing. However, he was surprised; he thought Ronan of Vilna's companions were other marked adults, not children.

The situation escalated too quickly, between Ronan's insults towards them and the fear of the dark-skinned boy who looked at Urian as if he remembered him. Then, when the boy mentioned Sunhold, he knew it was the same boy who had seen and felt his presence in that city north of Mizuna.

What had been orchestrated culminated as it was meant to, and Almond apparently liked it that way, for when the explosions were heard, Urian discreetly turned toward them to see the mess they were making and in which he was taking part.

Soon, panic set in, and Ronan was on the run. Urian soon wanted to go after the children, but Almond stopped him.

"We have to tire him out," Almond exclaimed. "The situation will do it for us."

"His partners, no one said they were children," Urian pointed out.

"Does it matter?" exclaimed Almond, gazing at the warrior. "It can't be the first time you've had to do this dirty job. Besides, I seem to recall that you're only here for the gold..."

After those harsh words, the mage took a small cloth bag out of the pocket of his shiny blue vest and space in his hands a grayish powder. After rubbing the powder in his hands, he extended his hands towards the sky, and as if it were a tablecloth placed on a table, the clouds of the storm that he conjured days descended on Lastrel.

The chaotic situation forced the trio of marked ones to flee mass hysteria. Unfortunately, the unlikely situation had become worse as someone was attacking the population from within the fog banks. Fynn and the others could hear the cries of pain from Lastrel's inhabitants and mocking and wicked laughter accompanying rapid stabbings.

Amid a fog bank, someone lunged at them, but Ronan, without hesitation, unsheathed one of his daggers and stabbed without a word at the assailant, who promptly fell and bled out.

"Let's go!" shouted Ronan in hysterics, holding both children's arms.

At that moment, Ronan could not care about people other than himself and the children. The marked man must have been thinking of some idea to get out, but he could not get his thoughts cool enough.

The man even ran over people, something Fynn could not get out of his mind when he saw a man bleeding to death on the ground or a woman screaming for help before people stepped her to death.

Soon, Ronan took the opportunity to go down an alleyway with both kids, where the heavy fog that was now upon them had failed to fill in appropriately.

"Are you both okay?" asked Ronan, agitated as he sheltered the children behind a wall.

Soon, people fleeing and others chasing them could soon be heard.

"What's going on?" asked Yue, alarmed.

"I don't know," exclaimed Ronan, looking around.

"W-Who were they?" asked Fynn.

"I don't know," Ronan repeated again.

"What did they want...?"

"I don't know!" shouted Ronan to Fynn. The man watched the pair of children startled by his shout. He watched as they tried to keep their composure, but it was noticeable how terrified they were.

The children were afraid, whether on their faces or a slight shake.

Ronan swallowed hard and tried to calm his heart to calm the pair of scarred children, "I'll get you out of here. I'll have that ship sail right now."

"What about the people?" asked Fynn quickly.

"Fynn, please..." insisted Ronan.

"They're dying!" the boy exclaimed loudly, overshadowed by the screams from the street.

"I know!" exclaimed Ronan.

"They're dying for us!" insisted Fynn while his big hazel eyes wet.

"You can't always be the hero!" exclaimed Ronan, grabbing the boy. "You won't always be the hero!"

"Stop it!" shouted Yue quickly as she pulled the two apart, stepping between them.

"People die for us again!" shouted Fynn, "They always die for us! t-they always die for you!"

Ronan saw at the boy, taken aback by those words. Even Yue turned to look at Fynn at that. Fynn's hurtful words came with restrained fury and tears streaming down his face; at the same time, his eyes were turning yellowish.

"I know," Ronan exclaimed, making Yue look at him. "So many people always die because of me..."

"Why do they want us now?" asked Fynn, broken by a held-back cry.

"They probably want my head for something," Ronan replied heavily. The thoughts in his head were only building up.

"The one with the mustache knew your name..." added Yue.

"His name is Almond, he used to be a marked mage from Adhaz, but then he became a rebel," Ronan explained. "I don't know who the other two are, but they must be marked, warriors."

"Who is The Butcher?" the Akajsi girl asked again.

Ronan leaned against the wall as he opened his travel pack, ready to take several items for survival.

Then, he explained what had happened with a heaviness that produced his memories.

"Tyloh used to be my apprentice, but he went mad with power and committed horrible crimes..."

"And he's out there, killing people?" asked Fynn, alarmed.

"This seems so orchestrated..." said Ronan as he clutched his fingers to his head of long blond hair.

"What shall we do?" asked Yue.

"I'm convinced they want me," said Ronan, convinced of that and convinced of his own decision. "You guys try to get to port; I'll play decoy."

Both marked teens raised their gazes to the blond-haired, blue-eyed man.

"You've got to be kidding me..." said Yue.

"B-But..."

Ronan denied them another word and grabbed each of their arms to lead them toward the alleyway entrance.

Then, still hiding, he stopped the children who were trying to talk some sense into him.

Ronan placed his hands on the shoulders of each, drawing their attention. Just as a mentor could.

"It's crazy, but I'm confident we can do it," Ronan exclaimed, without many more ideas. "This street leads down to the dock. Do you remember what the boat looked like?

Yue hesitated, "Ronan, this doesn't have..."

"Do you remember what the boat looked like?" insisted Ronan, looking at Fynn.

"Y-Yes," Fynn exclaimed, still holding back his tears.

"No matter what happens, no matter what they see, you guys have to get to the ship," Ronan said insistently, watching the marked boy.

"Ready?" said Ronan, fastening his hand on his dagger, clutching in his other hand a pair of gadgets he carried in his backpack.

"This is a...!"

"Now!" shouted Ronan, interrupting Yue. "Come on, that way!"

Ronan pointed down the path, and with no choice, Fynn held his friend's arm so they wouldn't get separated. Yue yelled and insulted Ronan, but she knew that was the only option inwardly.

The marked man took the opposite path. Then, Ronan shook some small black balls he carried with him with great force; he knew that Tyloh would recognize that screeching sound and surely go after him.

The pair of marked children ran down the street, dodging death and the dead, avoiding combat and those deranged people.

The city was crumbling from within, the guard was surprised, and the marked wizard had made things difficult for all but his allies. Yet, inside that thick fog, he and his companions could see perfectly what was going on because of enchantment from Almond himself.

As expected, from the rooftops, Tyloh saw Ronan fleeing, and in his hand, he carried an object from the times when he was his student. Determined and blinded by hatred, the marked trickster ran after Ronan.

Both marked warriors went after their counterparts.

Almond, for his part, had a privileged view of the chaos, and also, he would play with the pieces of his new board.