The route’s roads grew rougher as the group drew further and further away from civilization, starting from cleanly paved roads and eventually resorting to just going across wherever looked the most ft. The sounds of mercenaries chattering, wheels turning, gefyls hooves clopping, and the skittering of Greatfowls running along the group were all that could be heard for days, Dante gncing over at one of the greatfowls with a Guild officer mounted on top of the biped, avian creature, it fpping its wide, but flightless wings while its vibrantly colored feathers fluffed up beneath its thin man-made armor. Though he tried to stay asleep for the majority of the journey, Dante couldn’t help but stay awake, feeling a sense of unease from the athorists. The group they sat along with shot jeers and scowls at him, scooting away from wherever he sat and spitting insults towards him under their breath. Other than that, it was an uneventful journey so far, the 4 of them busy with either sleep or talking amongst themselves. As the carriage stopped again to prepare a meal, the other party walked over to the salisko coachman, making their request loudly known. “Trade our pce with another group. We can bear these heathens no longer.” Pryderi and Rorburn looked over at them, Dante and Ireishil too busy with preparing the meal to notice. Rorburn was the first to prod them on their request. “Heathens? Fuck you mean by that?” Rorburn asked, one of the white-robed, bald travelers turning to him. Pointing a finger over at Dante, they hissed out, Rorburn looking over to where he was pointing. “What? Do you not like people with horns?” “He is a cleric.” “And?” They scoffed at the response, rolling their eyes while their hood slipped from their bald head slightly. “And, he is likely Undead because of such.” The priest stated. Pryderi nodded, Rorburn’s ears flicking while he looked between the priests, trying to rationalize what was happening. “Not gonna lie, didn’t really realize he was undead ‘till you said that. But why the fuck does that even matter?” “The Undead are nothing more than corpses animated by forbidden magicks, a horde of monstrous beings only a step away from becoming hollowed.” The athorist spat back, being stopped when Pryderi spoke up. “Come on now, that’s ridiculous. There’s no difference between a - ” He was stopped mid-sentence when one of the followers stepped away from the coachman, angrily shoving their hood back onto their head. “This idiotic heretic of a coach says for us to ‘get over it’! We will not travel if we are forced to be within the putrid aura of an Undead. Is that understood?” The followers turned over to the coach, him looking away and choosing to ignore their comments. “Guess you’re gonna have to hoof it to Heiwan, then.” Rorburn remarked, one of the followers running over to him and poking their finger into his chest. This particur one made his rank much more known, him having more precious metals along his robe, his bald head having rge blots of white painted over it. “You speak not to us, especially with your poor tone. Lest I’ll have you sughtered and your limbs harvested to graft.” Rorburn stood up onto his toes, gripping him by his wrist while gritting his teeth. “Oh yeah? How about you come and try to cut off my limbs, fuckwad?” “We are among the purest of Atharot, you ill-mannered heretic. It is only for the ws of the Guild we do not strike you down here.” Rorburn shoved him away. “If you’re so high and fuckin’ mighty, then what’s stopping you? How about I show you what those ws are protecting you from - ” Pryderi stepped between them, physically stopping Rorburn from getting any closer to the priest. “Alright, we need to rex. If you athorists can’t ride with us, then there isn’t really any option other than you leaving.” “We would rather march the long path of righteousness, than give into the common man’s sloth and sit idly with something like an Undead. Farewell.” The group of 5 followers began walking away, the coachman shrugging as Rorburn climbed back onto the cart. Ireishil and Dante arrived, in their hands being the meals they made from the wild meat. Pryderi kept his eye on the leaving athorists as they began to disappear into the distant horizon, them not steadily walking in the direction of Heiwan. Dante looked over at where Pryderi was staring while handing him a piece of meat. “...where are they going?” Dante asked, Pryderi looking down over at him while he took a bite. “Heiwan, I guess.” “Why are they walking, then?” Pryderi shrugged in response, leaning up against the cart while continuing to eat. “Something not important. Let’s not lose any sleep worrying over it.” As the group all gathered to eat, Dante looked out at the other stopped carts, seeing more and more of the Guild mercenaries all gathering around a bonfire, each cooking their own meals upon the roaring fire. The scent of freshly cooked meat and alcohol was strong in the air as Dante curiously approached, looking back to see the rest of his party all sitting with him atop a felled tree log pced on the ground, with several other mercenaries sharing this log. The sky darkened above them, and a faint foggy haze surrounded the group, but it didn’t stop a growing sense of camaraderie amongst the mercenaries. One dendriko man sat atop a tree stump with a guitar, the idle chatter amongst the group quieting as he began to py the instrument, serenading the dozens of sellswords with the enchanting twangs of his strings. “You know… this reminds me of my tour in the Stygian Desert.” A graveled, deep voice spoke, Dante and the others turning to the salisko man that spoke up. He reached into his pouch, taking out a pipe and stuffing it with a purple-green herb, his grafted hand twitching slightly while took a puff. “Was a couple decades ago, not too long after hollows took the pce over. Guild sent 30 of us down there to try and save a shipment of gems and tomes.” He chuckled, patting his hand down on the sheathed tome resting on his hip. “We’d have bonfires like this every night. Was hot as hell during the day, but at night, the Stygian was worse than a tundra. That bck sand was fiercer than ice water. Fire was the only way to stay alive.” The man took another puff from his pipe, more and more mercenaries listening to his story as he continued. “We weren’t the only ones looking for that shipment. Guild owned it, but the Hadleighs and some athorist chapters wanted it too. Every night, after killing dozens of men, hollows, and whatever grafted creatures those athorists had chained, I’d hear the same thing.” He inhaled. “That we were going to die there. That we were sacrifices for the Guild’s greed. And perhaps we were. Guild pays well, but it ain’t exactly known for its job security.” He jested, earning a few chuckles from the crowd. “But after weeks of toiling in that shithole, getting worn down by monsters and men alike… we marched back up to Hospuria. With the gems, with the tomes…” He smirked, his tail flicking behind him as he finished. “And with every 30 of us livin’.” The story gained some cheers from the crowd, a toast being shared amongst the mercenaries, their ccking bottles and mugs echoing across the nighttime forest.

  The first week of the journey passed. Dante slouched over the barrier of the cart, fast asleep while his head drooped down, before being thrown back awake when the cart hopped over a dirt mound. Dante looked forward, seeing the steep, slightly snowy climb that they were currently making up the mountain. Now wide-eyed, he looked between the other 3, Pryderi also looking fairly shocked as they now were on significantly higher ground than before. “Well, now we know we’re in Heiwan, haha.” Pryderi commented. Dante looked over at Pryderi as the vinnan spoke, exhaling deeply before he began to talk. “How far away is the city from the border?” Dante asked, Ireishil looking up at him while Pryderi neglected to answer, instead being deep in thought. “The city we are heading towards is known as Tatezaki. It should be only another day of travel.” Tatezaki. That name was actually surprisingly familiar to Dante, his eyes lighting up as he bent over to look at the map, Ireishil ying it out on her p for him to see it better. Ireishil noticed the sudden change in Dante’s mood, seeing the tovron’s eyes widen and his jaw drop slightly while he looked upon the map. “Is something wrong?” She asked, before Dante's face brightened, sitting back down as Pryderi and Rorburn also turned to look at him. “No, this is great! I think my grandfather lives there!” Pryderi raised his eyebrows, leaning towards Dante as he prodded him. “Really?” “Yes! I’ve never been up here, but he visited me here and there when I was young!” Rorburn was the next to speak, him also genuinely intrigued by the surprising connection. “How do you know it’s this city?” “He always talked about Tatezaki whenever he visited, and how he was a part of the Helm organization that protected it. I’ve never been there before, but… I’ve heard so much about it.” The coachman turned back towards Dante, pulling his brim up off his head as he tried to affirm it as well. “What’s his name, er… whoever you are, tovron.” “His name is Arrios, Arrios Pildel.” He nodded in response, commandeering the gefyls for a bit as he gave some more information, the two creatures chattering their mandibles while strutting forward. “If I remember right, he’s still up where we’re headed. Think the big ‘un governs that whole Helm group up there. They’ve got some people rebelling though, probably why he ordered y’all in the first pce.” Dante tilted his head, recoiling a bit at the idea of people being displeased with someone like his grandfather. “What? Rebels? He’s such a nice person, though. He even donated food and arms to the amia vilge I lived near.” The coachman simply shrugged in response, pulling his brim back down and pointing his eyes to face the road ahead, still trailing behind several other carts. Rorburn was the first to speak on it, resting on the barrier of the cart and letting his arms hang off of it. “I mean, he was nice to you cuz you’re his grandkid. He’s probably an asshole to other people.” Furrowing his brow, Dante chose not to argue Rorburn’s point, only crossing his arms while he id back against the wooden barrier. Putting his mind instead on the surrounding ndscape, only then he noticed that the cart was fairly close to the edge of the mountain they were scaling, peeking his head over to see the rge riverbank that was at the foot of the mountain. A pleasant sight to behold, it was a massive body of water with fog floating above it, pnts having grown around it with some wild creatures grazing upon it. Dante recognized them as Optars, which were quadrupedal, smaller-sized creatures which bore a fairly thick exoskeleton and an elytra, something which Dante saw in action as one of the optars glided up the terrain of the mountain. For many miles, the border along Heiwan and Hospuria were barren of any life outside of the occasional wildlife, with no traces of civilization within sight. Fortunate they were that the mountain was next to a wide field of mapped pins, something Dante felt he had initially for granted. As he let himself fall into a gentle rest once again, his vision went bck while his eyes rolled back, his mind being brought into a state of dreaming. Unlike the other rather benign fantasies before this, though, Dante felt feverish, his body squirming under the influence of whatever was taking him.

  When the seeds were left upon the soil, only then was life made. Each life was taken from other lives to fulfill its own, and from those lives taken, many more come. Such was a cycle of unaware culling and reuse, the mouth taking the prey, the cw taking the mouth, and the cw being left to feed the ground below it, allowing the prey to live itself off what the ground grew. Simple it was until it were the minds that came after the cw, for the minds had means to destroy all in the cycle. Bdes for the mouth, arrows for the cw, and jails for the prey. The minds consumed all and left little, for their desire was not to simply end the cycle. They sought to ascend it, and to never become dirt like the ones before them have.

  The minds came in many shapes and forms. Some minds had flesh casted from the cws, mouths, and prey before them. Others from the earth and grass they walked upon. Even more common were minds casted from abstract concepts, yet given their own form still. Both alongside and against one another, their influence reigned upon the nd, shining light where it were to remain unknown, and bringing order to where chaos was supposed to stay. Nature itself has many forms of maintaining its cycle, often an indirect and gentle breeze that waits patiently to give change at a steady pace. But the minds defend against each breeze, not leaving even scratches or bruises into their bulwark. The breeze grew into more strong a wind, until not even a maelstrom could restore the power taken by the minds. This disrespect of Nature’s cycle was not taken lightly. Nature knew something different must be done. It must be the minds themselves to be used.

  From the set paths of light unbreakable darkness grow, consuming the minds and turning their bdes against one another. While the minds remain prepared for such a visible and distracting threat, a more insidious opposer ys beneath, the darkness far from its influence while it bides its time.

  Dante felt trapped as the words echoed through his mind, perfectly aware that he was dreaming, but not sure where such concepts in his head originated from. Everything was white, no images or forms could be seen as the words stopped for a brief moment, Dante trying to move against the forces stopping him. Managing to get a step in, it turned from light to dark, though each footprint he made left an imprint of white.

  Let not your intervention stop the reign of bance. It is only through darkness may the unstoppable light not blind all, and scorch the earth beneath it. Through relentless justice will none be left for the worms which feed all. Through charity will follow idleness, and through idleness will follow ruin. Dante. You will die. Dante. In boiling water your body will steam to the skies. The fragments of your past and future will slice through you like daggers. You will fall off of the carriage

  Waking up with his mind racing, Dante threw himself back on the cart, his back aching from him having leaned a little far off of the barrier. Looking to his left was Pryderi, who unlike the others in the midst of the night was fully awake, putting his finger up to his mouth to shush Dante. A series of quick, shallow breaths left Dante before he regained his composure. “S - Sorry…” Dante muttered out, putting his hands on his legs while Pryderi only nodded in response, returning to scouting around the perimeter of the cart while keeping his longbow readied, an arrow resting in his hand waiting to be drawn. Choosing not to inquire about Pryderi’s alertness, Dante sank back into sleep, hoping not to find himself in such a troubling dream once again. And that he didn’t, him choosing to try and think about seeing his grandfather again for the first time in at least a decade, hoping that such a reunion wouldn’t be ruined by revolution or work.

  Further days of travel eventually led the groups of mercenaries from the untamed wilderness and to the civilized settlements of Heiwan. The wheels of the cart now treaded on paved road instead of rough soil, earning a loud deal of celebration from the other carts that awoke Dante and some of his party members. Dante sprung up as he looked around, noticing Rorburn gncing over the carts at the walled city they were approaching. “Huh?” Dante muttered, rubbing at his eyes as he readjusted himself. “We’re almost there, get your shit together.” Nodding, Dante brought his tome and sash back up into his p, tying it around his waist. He was fairly excited to see his grandfather once again, not even quite sure what to say to Arrios once they met. Looking forward over the cart, the rge city of Tatezaki came into view, it fnked by a rge stretch of snow-covered mountains. More noticeable though were the rge set of walls that covered nearly the entire city, the only visible entrance being the wooden gate that sat within the stone walls, it guarded by a small ptoon of armored soldiers. Being filtered within, the wagons slowly pulled into the city, with Dante and his group having waited until almost dusk for them to be allowed in. A separate line was made for wagons carrying children and incubating eggs, with zahnei, salisko, and amian parents keeping the eggs their children were growing in warm whilst the guards allowed them to be taken to the nursery. As for the mercenaries, per the orders of the guard, every 4 of them were to step off of the cart and have their identities confirmed. Dante was the first to be stopped before an inspector, him listing off the attributes that were given to them by the Guild to ensure they were not impersonating any official mercenaries. “Ahem. Dante Pildel. Aged 18. Race Tovron. Height is 5 feet 5 inches, stature is thin and slightly lean. Two white horns poking out of thick, bck hair, ears go down long-ways under them. Brownish skin tone with a small amount of body hair. Brown eyes, all teeth intact… very well. Go.” Dante walked away, Ireishil being the next to be inspected. “Ireishil Bhehle, aged 30. Race Arterian. Height is 6 feet and 5 inches, stature is muscur and somewhat wide-set. Braided red hair, green skin tone, tattoos along chest and arms… good. Go.” Walking in behind Dante, he watched as she paid little mind to the wide-set comment, though a guard did flinch when it was mentioned. Pryderi was inspected right after her. “Okay… Pryderi Reese. Aged 25. Race Vinnan. Height is 5 feet and 11 inches, stature is of stronger upper body and somewhat thinner legs. Dark brown skin tone, short and curly bck hair… you supposedly have a marking of a viginte group you were previously in on your stomach. Please show me it.” Nodding, Pryderi lifted his hands before his belt, digging his white undershirt out for a moment to reveal a tattoo that read “ARROW OF THE LIGHT” just above a depiction of a bundle of enchanted-looking arrows on his gut. “Good. Go.” Walking past Pryderi, Rorburn snickered at the vinnan’s eccentric tattoo, him being inspected just after. “Right, Rorburn Fernsoar, a little troubling to get yours in. Aged 41, race Nitlie. Height is 5 foot sharp, stature is toned and thin. Lighter, white skin, auburn hair with two ears sticking at the top. Sharp teeth, an auburn and white tail, amber eyes… alright. Go.” Giving a somewhat mocking salute, Rorburn walked in behind everyone else, the group stopping in front of him. Rorburn looked confused at why they were stopping, before Dante would be the first to crify. “...you’re 41 years old?” Dante questioned, Rorburn chuckling before he answered. “Uh, yeah?” “Can’t be right. You look like you couldn’t be any older than Dante there.” Pryderi commented. Rorburn only shrugged his shoulders, turning around to continue walking into the city, the rest shortly following suit. The 4 of them made their way deep into the city as the next group was inspected behind them, some bickering about plus ones going on within earshot. While Mauyonne was definitely of a fair size itself, this city was absolutely massive in comparison. The wooden buildings and more simple decor seemed like a rugged, primitive camp when compared to this new city. Tatezaki had countless buildings of stone and brick connected along each other, with banners hung signifying the sigil of Tatezaki, which was a hornet helmet with a stylized letter T under it. Dante felt a little more comfortable at the familiar presence of fellow tovrons, though there was one tovron in particur whom he was looking to come across. His grandfather Arrios. Walking along the brick-yered roads, it was actually more gentle an ambience than what Mauyonne had, the city so rge that the popution was spread thin, as opposed to the packed nature of Mauyonne. A shadow cast over them from the neighboring building, the 4 of them stopping for a moment, Pryderi being the first to speak as they try and get their bearings. “Alright… where exactly are we going?” He asked, the other 3 not quite having an answer, before Dante spoke up. “Well, if we don’t know, maybe we can go see Arrios! He might even know where we’re supposed to stay.” Deciding there to not be any other option, they made their way towards the center of the city, where the rge, gilded castle y, the residential pce of none other than Dante’s grandfather. It appeared that they weren’t the only ones who had this idea. There were many others lined up at the staircase, a portion likely from the guild, and the rest concerned citizens or visiting immigrants. These guards were particurly unique in that their armor were colored a darker gold hue, and that their helmets had a various amount of horns on them. Dante ran over to the staircase, the others gging behind a little as he was stopped by the guards. “Go wait in line with the others.” They commanded, looking down at Dante as they went to put both of their hands on their spear. “Wait! Is by any chance the governor’s name Arrios Pildel?” “...yes? Why?” Dante turned over to the others, jumping in pce for a bit as his hopes were confirmed. “He really is the governor! See?” Dante excitedly procimed, the guard staring at him with a somewhat confused expression while the others stopped behind Dante. “Really? Maybe we can skip this shitty line.” Rorburn thought out loud, looking over at the guard as they answered. “What entitles you to that?” The guard questioned, Dante swallowing before answering. “Well… my name’s Dante Pildel, I’m one of his grandsons. I’d like to see him, but…” Looking back over at the growing line, he tugged at his colr as he looked back over at the guard. “If he’s busy, I can wait.” The guard thought for a moment, looking back up at the castle that seemed to have very few people walking in and out of it. “If you truly are his grandson, then wait here. I shall go send for someone to confirm.” Barking orders over at the nearest guard, the one receiving them being a much rger, giant-looking ironcd guard, making haste up the staircase to go meet with the governor. Sitting at the foot of the staircase, Dante rested his arms on his knees, looking up at his fellow party members. “This… might take a while, I don’t mind if you three go out and enjoy yourselves.” “Wouldn’t mind getting familiar with your grandfather.” Pryderi answered, stepping forward as the other 2 rexed alongside the castle walls. “Besides, now that I think about it…” Staring between Ireishil and Rorburn, he chuckled out as he finished his rationalization. “The rest of us are a little low on family, aren’t we? My folks passed away while I was still a teenager.” Rorburn returned the chuckle, Ireishil shrugging with a neutral look on her face while she spoke. “My mother died in childbirth, and my father left shortly afterwards.” “Damn, really? My parents are out fucking around in the woods, probably. They popped out the litter I was in and scrambled.” Rorburn said, resting a hand on his hip while looking over at Dante. “Say… how old’s your grandpappy, anyways, Dante?” Rorburn asked, Dante tapping his chin for a moment as he did the math. “He was about… 100-something when I st saw him, and I was about 9 then.” Pryderi raised an eyebrow, leaning towards Dante as he went to speak. “Really? He isn’t, well, decrepit, is he?” “No, haha. We tovron live a lot longer than other people do. He probably has another 40 years before worrying about that.” The vinnan shrugged, the lot of them going quiet as they rest at the staircase, the time passing slowly. The line aside from them began to budge with more speed, more people being filtered in and out as the sun began to set over the walls.

  It was after all this time that the bigger guard returned, the one standing only some feet away from them looking up at them as their armor cnked down the stairs. “The - the gi… governor wants to see him!” They let out, Dante immediately standing up with a wide smile on his face. “Really?” He responded, the guard nodding as the one beside them sighed out. “Very well. You 4 may enter.” Running up the stairs, Pryderi ughed from Dante’s enthusiasm as they followed behind him, some boos being heard from the line of people waiting behind them. Once inside the building, Dante couldn’t help but look around at all the scenery, the interior a faint shade of blue with countless depictions of ndscapes being id out across the walls. A thin gold strip led from the entrance to what was likely the room that held his grandfather, Dante walking alongside it as some armed guards slowly passed by him, visibly suspicious at the rambunctious-looking group. Dante had only heard about the ornate, royal interior of the castle from Arrios’ stories when he was a child, but to see it all in person, to see the halls he had so vividly described was nothing short of awe-striking to the tovron. Standing at the open gate, Dante’s mouth went wide as he stared into the throne room, the other 3 stopping in front of him with Rorburn looking back behind him. “Well? The fuck are you waiting for?” Rorburn asked, Dante giggling slightly as he walked forward. At the other end of the room was a tall and wide tovron man, sporting golden armor with dark red fabrics id under it, and a rge red cape on his back. He stood in front of what looked like a throne, decorated with several cased weapons id tactfully around it. Closer inspection revealed two rge horns curling from his head, and a rge amount of bck hair that was on his head and face. Dante slowly walked before him, him looking busy with what looked like a representative from the guild. The cleric cleared his throat, the one preoccupying him scoffing as Arrios held his finger up.