The trio of Marked Ones had arrived the day before through the subway paths that the Gyoros, a nomadic, tribal people, had drawn out for them.

The path was rough, and they had to contend with some creatures that only dwelled beneath the lands of Aeton. In the distance, the city of Dylort lay before them. Kyrus emphasized how fascinating the city was. It lay within a massive cavern beneath the Great Green Sea; all of its buildings were carved from the same stone as the site, giving the city a grayish, blackened appearance. At the same time, the town was illuminated by luminous crystals that some subway cultures used in their daily lives. These were embedded in each wall, as well as in the ceiling of the cavern. Places like this made to the surface a dull, fully explored place.

Unfortunately for Peck and a little for Kyrus, they had no time to look around the place, so their walk had to be postponed perhaps forever, because once they reached the city, they had to start the plan to rescue the Warlord.

The three stealthily infiltrated the city; Kyrus even opted for a human appearance, a reflection of how he would look without his gray skin and horns and thus better hide around the place. At the inn where they stayed, the three hatched a plan in which Peck would infiltrate Kreiss' Fortress while performing a decoy.

Of course, Kyrus knew that he might earn some ire from Rawani by having Peck do that alone. But, unlike the orc woman, he let that girl exploit her potential much more.

His plan was laid out through the hourglasses in the inn that indicated the time they were on and what time it was on the surface. Then, the three emerged from their hiding place with the last clocks left to turn, meaning that dusk had set in.

Now the trio moved through the streets of that city of abnormally pale people and extravagant dress. There were immigrants from around Aeton, but the locals stood out the most.

"Are you ready?" asked Xindal to the girl with a calm smile. The Akajsi man massaged his wrists as he checked his worn bracelets with runic carvings were prepared.

"Yes, I'm ready," she replied, very confident as she performed several stretches. Finally, the girl squatted down and stretched her legs for a few moments. Then she took a deep breath and began serenading her natural, vibrant personality to concentrate on the matter.

"Go, Peck," said Kyrus, who was giving one last glance at that broad book hanging from a chain on his belt. His treasured spell book.

The girl took a last deep breath and closed her eyes. Then, as she exhaled the air, she pulled back and quickly took the form of a bird and flew towards the horizon, where the immense fortress and prison of Kreiss could be seen.

Despite that carnivalesque moment, the locals, accustomed to exotic events, didn't even care what she did.

The pair of Marked wizards watched as the girl was lost in the rock-strewn sky of that city before setting off.

"You and me, my good friend," Xindal said in a smiling, serene tone.

"I hope this works," Kyrus said skeptically.

"Oh, it will, definitely," Xindal confirmed.

"How about they try to execute her?" asked Kyrus. Even though his neutral face showed no emotion beyond indifference, it was clear that this being a close friend in his voice, there was a concern.

Xindal sighed and soon looked his friend in the eyes again, "Try not to think about it, don't lose your concentration. Otherwise, you, Peck, and I, will end up in the same place as her."

Kyrus nodded, and with Xindal, they headed for the center of Dylort.

In a large bazaar, the locals traded subway goods for those on the surface; the interests ranged from spices and food to clothing made from the silk produced by underground spiders to criminals who could be traded as enslaved people.

In the center of that place, both wizards would demonstrate their potential.

The duo of markings represented opposite points of magic, two of the supposed vertices representing the triangle of the symbol they held in their hands.

For them, magic was nothing more than what they thought and the imposition of those thoughts on reality. What for magical scholars, such as elemental magic, was limited to bordering on unreality with their spells by conjuring small flares, lightning on stormy days, or snowy blizzards. Kyrus could rain fire, summon lightning bolts on sunny days, or an explosion of ice and blizzards from his fingers.

In the middle of the main square, Kyrus removed his illusory disguise like a curtain falling as it was burned by black fire. Each spell left a residue, a waste of the magic used. Kyrus' resonance was palpable; it felt like getting their hands too close to the fire caused many to turn towards him.

"Stop!" exclaimed one of the bazaar guards. "What do you-?"

The heavily armored man was about to point his halberd at Kyrus. However, Xindal walked past him and whirled it out from the akajsi man's hands with a twist of his fingers. In that manner, the heavily armored man was hurled into the air and landed on one of the rocky roofs of the bazaar.

Then Xindal rolled up the sleeves of his elegant coat and rubbed his hand on one of the bracers, drawing blue sparks from it. Then, he reached out his hand in various directions, and as if the rocks of the place obeyed him, the wizard extended his will to the structures of the bazaar. The rocky walls of the buildings slid away, closing off passages and leaving others barely usable.

While Kyrus represented the dynamic forces of magic, Xindal represented the forces of magic's order.

"Ladies, gentlemen," the Akajsi man exclaimed loudly as he brought his hand to his neck to amplify the sound of his voice. "Please withdraw from here. Don't forget to call the guard and any warriors or priests of the White Flame. Thank you very much."

Kyrus went up to a stone balcony in the center of the bazaar, where he could see many people at the display of magic begin to leave.

"Get out, now!" shouted Kyrus.

The doubly marked Infernal held out his hands, and the cavern began to shake from a thunderous clap. A small quake was taking place.

"Don't you think it's too much?" asked Xindal as he climbed up the balcony to where his friend stood. The man with long black hair and a calm voice watched as people panicked, and he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for them.

"I'm just getting started," replied Kyrus, who watched as down one of the clear paths left by Xindal, the local guard and members of the Order of the White Flame seemed to be arriving.

"We should avoid harming the locals," Xindal suggested, clasping his hands behind his back.

Kyrus turned his eye to his friend and smiled teasingly, "I'm more concerned about damaging the architecture and terrain..."

They both laughed as if the whole situation was something simple and commonplace to them. Even as a contingent of hundreds of men advanced through the streets against them, readying spears, swords, bows, spells, and some subterranean riding lizards, to them, that was an everyday occurrence.

Hundreds of soldiers swirled before them, among whom was a whole detachment of the White Flame. Among them, there were marked; Trackers.

"The Eye of the Storm!" shouted one of the Trackers. "It's the Eye of the Storm!"

"Your fame always precedes you," Xindal said quietly to his friend.

"Never for good deeds," replied Kyrus.

Dylort's guard, as well as the members of the White Flame, knew they wouldn't stand a chance if they restrained themselves, so they would fight them without quarter.

For Kyrus, that was not a drawback. Xindal, on the other hand, wished he hadn't gone that far.

Kyrus quickly took his spellbook in hand, and when he opened it, multiple blacks and iridescent blue sparks emanated from it. The marked wizard, cursed with the Infernal blood, advanced by one of the stairs of that balcony to go down to where the enemy was.

His opponents didn't hesitate, they didn't have the opportunity for that, and when they prepared their bows and crossbows, they fired their projectiles against both of them.

Xindal quickly pulled out his hands before him and, with stoicism, watched as the arrows and bolts flying in that direction soon turned to dust. Then, a cloud made of that same dust flew over the place.

Kyrus descended the stairs, coughing slightly at the dust generated when a warrior threw himself against him and tried to slice him in two. In that instant, Kyrus dodged him, and when the man tried to use his weapon again, the Infernal already had his hand on the man's breastplate.

Kyrus, in the blink of an eye, saw in his mind that man, the armor he wore, and what it was made of. Then, with a word and the mastery of his mind, the warrior's armor began to heat up until it was red hot. The warrior fell to the ground instantly as the heat was already deadly, shivering and screaming to death.

Xindal dropped into the dust, where his enemies saw where he lay as he rubbed his hands together and drew sparks as he did so.

Taking advantage of the fact that the earthquake was still in effect, the elegant and serene wizard shook the ground even more by pulling it as if there was a carpet over the feet of everyone in the place.

The thunderous movement began to creak the walls of the nearby buildings and made the dust shake and rise in the more distant ones.

From the dust, one could see how the heat of the hot metal illuminated the place. Seeing that, several members of the local guard hesitated to stay there while the members of the White Flame launched themselves against both mages in a fanatical rampage.

Inside the dust, soon thunder was heard, and lightning was seen; Kyrus had no intention of leaving any member of the White Flame alive.

The Trackers attempted to enter the fray, but with a gust of wind that lifted the dense smoke screen, they were blown away.

The Marked Ones rolled on the ground while dozens of charred corpses piled around them.

Once the dust rose, the Trakers tried to rejoin the battle. Still, when they saw how Kyrus, with his conjurations, ripped the warriors mounted on his lizards from the ground and compressed them with the power of his voice until they dripped blood, reason triumphed over fanaticism.

Xindal, more subtle, disarmed the guards and warriors of the White Flame, even burying limbs of them in rocky soil that had become quicksand.

In an interlude where the enemy was regrouping, the akajsi mage began to dust off the dust on his clothing.

"Do you think Peck made it as far as Rawani?" the elf asked without getting an answer.

As he turned, he saw Kyrus advancing towards the enemy, where the Trackers were. He watched as that group fled.

"Kyrus, wait-"

An arrow struck Xindal, causing him to let out a whimper. A contingent of enemies was forming from one of the exits of that bazaar.

Huffing, he knew he had to get rid of them before going after his friend, so when the arrows flew back to where the elf was, he had no choice but to return them to his enemies with a thunderous clap. Then, almost as if the arrows had been shot from his position, they appeared all around him and flew towards their owners.

For Kyrus, a hunt had begun. The Infernal Wizard advanced through the backstreets of Dylort while the group of Trackers used what they could to evade him. One of them was a wizard and soon tried to cast as many spells as he could; he was trying to overwhelm Kyrus with his will, but when the walls of flame or frost the boy conjured were useless against the Infernal, he knew he had to make a run for it.

The first to fall was one of that group's two tricksters, who tried to make himself invisible and remain hidden from Kyrus' look.

Kyrus, with cunning, became aware of his presence when he saw a few feet moving on the rocky and dusty ground. Kyrus launched the land where the trickster was standing into the air. The Tracker flew almost to the top of the cavern, where he would later meet his end in a painful and deadly fall.

The wizard fared no better, for when he tried to ambush him around a corner, he conjured up several bolts of lightning that Kyrus held back with his hands. The wizard struggled with keeping his concentration on his spell, but his fear grew as the marked wizard advanced toward him. Finally, when he had him close, Kyrus counterattacked him with his magic, returning dozens of lightning bolts in the process.

Xindal, busy with the enemies and his wound, didn't know what Kyrus was doing, but knowing him, he knew what must be happening. That really worried him.

In the end, the last of them, the last Marked Trickster, the Tracker, was cornered in an alley.

Kyrus, at the other end, watched him indifferently but with a menacing bearing.

The boy, a Marked One who looked in his twenties, trembled fearfully at his fate.

"You could have joined so many things..." said Kyrus, advancing toward the boy. "But the White Flame? That's low..."

"P-Please!" cried the boy, trembling, "I'll go! I swear I'll go and leave the order! I'll be an apostate if you let me go."

"It's not the first time I've heard that," Kyrus retorted, backing the boy further and further into a corner. "All said that all return to them, thinking Tisvar has a place for you. Traitors, each and every one of you..."

The boy dropped to the ground, curled into a ball, and cried and screamed without comfort.

"I was only following orders! I didn't want them to point me! I didn't want to suffer!"

Kyrus conjured a roaring discharge of lightning in his hand and watched him with emotionless white eyes.

"Don't worry, I won't make you suffer..."

The boy yelled as Kyrus was about to hurl a lightning bolt at him when someone grabbed his arm.

Kyrus turned to see Xindal standing there, looking at him with disappointment.

Face to face, a battle of gazes brewed as a roaring storm of lightning flashed on Kyrus' arm.

In the end, Kyrus fired the lightning at one of the walls of that immense cave.

A silence formed in the place. Xindal watched the boy, who, in disbelief, saw how his life had been spared.

"You'd better run away," Xindal indicated, "You won't get another chance."

The boy crawled on the ground, then fled the scene.

Kyrus let go of Xindal's grip, preferring to opt for silence.

"Really, Kyrus?" asked Xindal. "Kill them with cold blood?"

"Leave me alone," exclaimed Kyrus, "There's nothing worse than a traitor..."

"They are young; many of them must not have many years in this world."

"Is that reason enough to excuse them?" asked Kyrus.

Xindal sighed and soon shook his head in disappointment. Kyrus looked away as they both heard another garrison of warriors being accosted down one of the streets.

Luckily for both of them, that group of soldiers was going to fall not for them but the newly freed Warlord brandished at them.

Rawani, thirsty for revenge, didn't hesitate to attack the White Flame and her jailers, who fled in disarray when that orc woman made use of her talent for weapons. Any attack, blow and cut was almost useless against her, so all retreated.

In the end, Kyrus and Xindal opted to help her get rid of the remaining ones, many of whom, upon seeing them arrive, chose to flee.

The Marked warrior saw her mage counterparts as she pulled out one of her swords from a warrior's chest, making it disappear.

"I see you recovered quickly," Kyrus exclaimed upon seeing Rawani.

"Not all of it," said the woman, who soon thundered her neck and lowered her gaze, "Of all my wounds, my pride is the most badly wounded."

Xindal smiled, "You're still here; that's what matters, my good friend..."

Rawani nodded and soon turned to Kyrus, "Did you really let Peck go into the prison alone?"

Kyrus rolled his eyes as he heard how soon he got a scolding from that woman, "She knows how to take care of herself. And you're here, it means it worked..."

The woman frowned angrily, "I should know of-"

Peck's cheerful voice came over the air as she regained her common form as she flew over there.

"Can we go?" the girl asked. "I think we've caused too much trouble already. I would have liked to visit this place differently..."

The three looked at each other and then at the girl.

"Come on, we'll go out the way we came in," Xindal indicated.

Rawani followed his friends; for some reason, two of them remained silent.