I insert the hefty cartridge into the flare gun and snap it shut with a flick of my wrist. Raising my arm, I fire toward the sky as the scent of gunpowder spreads through the air. The roar of the blast gives way to a sharp whistle that slices through the night. Removing my hand from my ear, I watch the flare’s trajectory—it rises, then begins to arc downward, a fleeting spark blending into the stars.

Minutes pass as I scan the darkness. The horizon still glows with a reddish streak where the sun has set. A thin band of blood-red separates earth from sky, like a wound splitting day from night. But the gap is closing. Already, the first stars are flickering into existence, high above. I shiver and blow into my gloves for warmth.

Suddenly, from the other side of the ridge, another flare streaks toward the heavens before bursting into an incandescent shower. Instinctively, I calculate the distance and estimate the time required, factoring in the terrain’s unevenness and steep inclines. The other expedition is no more than two days away.

I watch the twin fire-flowers drifting in the sky, suspended above us. From where I stand, they look like lost twin stars in a shimmering expanse. Their pale, trembling light will linger for a few more minutes before fading—like a match dipped into water. With a faint hiss. So, I might as well make my way back down from the ridge and return to camp.

As my boots scrape through the powdery snow, I reach into my pocket for a pack of sugared candies. Giving the container a shake, I let two candies drop into my gloved palm. No way to tell what color they are. I pop them into my mouth and chew. Judging by the taste, raspberry and strawberry—so, blue and red, I guess.

I pull off my gloves and toss them onto the waterproof blanket spread out near the fire. Then, without much ceremony, I sit down and extend my hands toward the flames to warm them. The camp around me is quiet. A few sentries scan the surroundings, and I give them a quick wave. The others are making the most of this stop, seizing the chance for some well-earned rest.

I glance at the red tents of the Bravos, mixed in with the aubergine lodges of the Yzmir. Across the fire, I notice that the Ordis ensign is watching me. She’s writing on a parchment—too large to be a simple paper dispatch. Probably a report of some kind, or maybe even a private diary.

‘So, what’s new?’

‘The camp is set up’, she replies. ‘Shifts have been organized.’

I chew the last bit of my candy, then fish out the tin again for one final treat. Looking up at the Ordis recruit, I offer her one.

‘No thanks, I’ll pass’, she says, shaking her head.

I shrug.

‘Sunisa, right?’

This time, she nods.

‘And if I got that right, your name is Sunniva?’

I nod back.

‘You heard correctly.’

She allows herself a small smile.

‘Our names are almost the same, actually.’

I don’t know why, but it feels like her rigid discipline cracks just a little by the firelight. It’s different from when she’s clad in her heavy armor and survival gear. Now, I realize how young she is—maybe even younger than me. Fresh out of the academy, probably...

‘You’re Sigismar’s aide-de-camp, right?’

‘Yes.’

I scratch my head, a bit puzzled.

‘Then what are you doing here, exactly? How does an Ordis recruit end up in a Yzmir mage’s expedition?’

She furrows her brows, then stares at the faint flames flickering between us.

‘I was assigned to the Yzmir Alterer’s expedition. Those were my orders. It’s not my place to question them.’

I grin and scrunch my nose.

‘Hm. If it were me, I’d have asked a thousand questions. But you’re right—everyone has a job to do. Sometimes, there’s no need to overthink it.’

‘You’re your Exalt’s scout, right?’

‘Atsadi. The one-armed swordsman’, I say, nodding eagerly. ‘Pretty cool, don’t you think? It’s like traveling alongside a living legend—like Gericht or Sassangy in their time… Have you ever seen him fight in the Colosseum?’

She shakes her head.

‘By the way, do you know where they are?’

She nods toward a tent in the distance.

‘In there, talking.’

‘Betting on who’s going to get there first?’

Running into a rival expedition had been a complete accident. Given the harsh weather, both Alterers had agreed to set up a shared camp for the night. I didn’t mind. After days of solitude, a bit of conversation was a welcome distraction.

‘Do you guys bet often?’, she asks innocently.

‘Constantly’, I admit with a grimace.

‘And how’s that going for you?’

‘Down two Florets, last I checked. But I’m planning to make a comeback on the next expedition.’

‘When did it all start?’

‘You mean the betting?’

I have to think for a second, digging through my memories.

‘Pretty much right when we left Caer Oorun—basically as soon as the Expeditionary Corps were mobilized to assist the Exalts. Back there, we had side tasks, not much room for competition. But here…’

‘Our main role is to help the Exalts retain their energy so they can use their Mana only when absolutely necessary…’

‘And leave us the glory of cooking and setting up camp.’

‘You say that like it’s a menial task. Just surviving the cold drains a huge amount of their energy.’

I shake my head.

‘No, you’ve got it wrong. Sleeping under the stars, waking up every morning to landscapes no one’s ever seen before—that’s what keeps me going. But I admit, it’s always a thrill when a plan comes together… Watching the Exalts shape the world around them is something that will never stop fascinating me.’

Sunisa tilts her head, curious.

‘And what’s the plan for this expedition?’

‘I could be wrong, but we’re supposed to build a high-altitude shelter—stable enough for future explorers to use. It’ll be better than those hot springs the Lyra summoned from the ground last time.’

I recall our previous failure with a hint of bitterness.

‘But honestly, I enjoyed it too, so I can’t complain. It was way too nice. What about you guys?’

‘I think Afanas wants to pull some kind of device from the Aether—something to detect the ideas swirling around here. Some kind of Tumult Observatory. But I’m not particularly well-versed in magic.’

I study her.

‘You sound more like an Axiom.’

She laughs.

‘The curse of having a technomancer for a father, I suppose.’

‘Where are you from originally?’

‘Uh, we moved around a lot. Hadera and Arkaster. But we’re originally from Svarograd.’

‘You’re so lucky! You’ve seen a lot of places. I spent my whole childhood in a tiny village near the Kandu Range. The most boring place imaginable. Why the Ordis?’

She hesitates.

‘Have you heard about the strikes in Hadera?’

I shake my head.

‘They nearly spiraled out of control. Between the Quarrymen’s Guild and the miners. I was just a kid, but I vaguely remember the heated discussions in our kitchen, the demands, the gatherings in the warehouses…’

‘How did it end?’

She gives a timid smile.

‘The Ordis troops arrived. Everyone feared they’d crush the movement. But the opposite happened. Yes, they secured the area, but they never raised a hand against us. And even more, the negotiator sent by the Monolith saw our working conditions and defended us. I think that idea stuck with me, and over time, it took root…’

‘What idea?’

‘The idea of protecting others.’

I rummage through my bag and pull out an energy bar. Breaking it in half, I offer one piece to the Ordis recruit. This time, she accepts. I stuff my half into my mouth and lean on the ground, finally feeling warm.

‘My reason’s not as noble’, I mumble through my mouthful. ‘I think… I think I just wanted to see the world.’

‘There’s a certain nobility in that.’

‘Haha, I think my mother would call it recklessness rather than a noble cause, but thanks.’

Suddenly, the sound of countless tiny bells echoes around us. Sunisa straightens, instantly alert, scanning the snowy darkness. Other soldiers emerge from their tents, hurriedly dressing and gearing up.

‘What’s happening?’

Mages clutching their staves take up positions at the camp’s perimeter. Some begin levitating, forming a circle a few meters above the ground, probing the shadows. I see Sunisa fastening her brigandine.

‘Help me, will you? The Yzmir mages set up alert wards around the perimeter. Something just triggered them.’

My eyes widen.

‘There!’

I point in a direction, and the Yzmir mage I’m assisting slashes through the air with a dazzling streak. The incandescent arrow misses its target but illuminates the darkness, revealing a flurry of wings that vanishes as quickly as it appeared into the gusts.

Rumors had been spreading—whispers that some exploration groups had been attacked like this. I’d heard stories of ghosts, of harpies... They weren’t quite right, and yet, they weren’t entirely wrong either.

The wind rose with their arrival, sending snow swirling through the air. The temperature dropped several degrees in an instant, making it hard for me to hold my crossbow steady. With each passing minute, I feel my body freezing up, my limbs growing numb. My eyes sting from the wind, and the cold seeps through my usually well-insulated clothes.

A scream pierces the storm. I look up just in time to see a mage swept away into the tempest, swallowed whole by the raging winds.

‘Stay focused on the mission!’

I swallow hard. Right. He’s right. Stay focused. You’re not a fighter—your eyes are your only weapon.

Behind us, the Yzmir Alterer has been chanting, performing complex katas for several minutes now. Spectral arms have appeared behind him, tracing intricate patterns in the air.

I can feel the pressure of Mana accumulating. It’s like a hand gripping my shoulders, pulling at me. He’s drawing it in from everywhere—from the very air, from the mages guarding him. He’s concentrating it, compressing it, like coal being crushed into a diamond.

Despite the cold, he has removed his heavy cloak, probably for greater freedom of movement. He looks frail like this, his pallid complexion, his thin, slightly hunched frame. But his wiry body is deceptively strong, and he has the power to silence an entire battlefield alone. Our only job is to protect him while he finishes his spell.

Nearby, I see Sunisa locked in combat, fighting back-to-back with an Initiate. They’ve drifted a few meters away from the group, and their isolation worries me. I hesitate to mention it to the mage beside me but bite my tongue. The last thing he needs is a distraction.

Atsadi, meanwhile, is a whirlwind of motion—cutting through the air, spinning, striking with a gleaming blade. Like lightning slicing through the wind, he keeps his opponents at bay. But I see him giving ground, step by step. He, too, is drawing in Mana, as if knowing that his martial prowess alone won’t be enough.

On our last expedition, he had absorbed so much power that the ground beneath him cracked, sending geysers of boiling water shooting into the sky. Afanas and he are like gravitational wells, blazing suns that pull in all the energy around them.

‘Girl!’

I turn—too late. Something strikes my shoulder, sending me sprawling to the ground, dazed. As I struggle to push myself up, I realize the mage beside me is gone, as if he had vanished into thin air.

Panic claws at my chest. I start crawling, my vision blurry, unable to focus. All I can see are red droplets falling from my forehead, staining the snow.

Suddenly, something heavy lands behind me with a dull thud.

A sharp, clicking sound makes my hair stand on end. I whip around.

A strange creature stares back at me.

Framed by a mane of alabaster fur, its face is smooth and black, with brilliant white eyes covered in countless facets. Its long antennae float in the wind like delicate plumes—or rabbit’s ears. At first glance, it doesn’t seem aggressive. It watches me, studying me intently, while its dark wings, streaked with pale glowing patterns, beat lazily behind it.

Then its hidden mandibles part, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth.

Like a rattlesnake, it lets out an ominous, hissing chitter.

I grope through the snow, searching for the blade I dropped. Nothing.

I grit my teeth, staring into the endless reflections of my own face in its many eyes.

Before it can strike, something slams into the creature, sending it tumbling into the snow.

Sunisa stands over me, extending a hand, her large targe shield in the other. But before I can grab it, the world starts to tear apart behind us. At the heart of the storm, Afanas rises into the air, arms spread wide, his eyes pulsing with light. Violet flames dance around him as his skin takes on a ghostly, translucent white, shimmering like fish scales.

Lightning cracks through the spiraling winds, striking the ground in steady rhythm. Then the maelstrom unleashes itself.

A shockwave hurls us into the air, shredding the world around it and blasting torrents of snow in all directions. I lose sight of Sunisa in the chaos. Flung from the ground, I crash onto the frozen ledge, my head striking the ice. Dizzy, gasping for air against the storm’s fury, I lift my gaze. Afanas has made the wind his weapon. The creatures scatter, fleeing. The mages have managed to raise magical barriers to shield themselves from the carnage.

Now, a blizzard rages—blinding snow, razor-sharp ice. Beneath my feet, I hear a deep, splintering crack, barely audible over the roaring wind. Too late, I realize what’s happening. The ice gives way. My stomach lurches. I plummet, swept away from the bedlam, tumbling down in a cascade of rock, snow, and shattered stalactites.

Far from the chaos.

Far from the stars.

Deep into the darkness.