The Stygian Frontier
Blake exhaled heavily, the weight of responsibility pressing down on his shoulders. As he sat alone in the study, haunted by guilt and worry while awaiting Erebus' return, the once-isolated stronghold of the Stygian Frontier had become a sanctuary—overcrowded with refugees from every shattered corner of Wahrheit.
He labored day and night, poring over documents, rationing supplies, issuing decrees—doing everything in his power to prevent the domain from collapsing under the strain. Over thirty thousand survivors now lived within this domain: displaced citizens of Wahrheit and Erebus' own kin. The rest of the realm still burned, much of it reduced to charred ruins and lifeless ash.
In the wake of a devastating two-year war, the mighty realm of Wahrheit—once powerful enough to rival both the human dominion and the celestial nation of Amanécer—had been utterly annihilated. What remained of a population of sixty billion was now a grim reminder of extinction: scattered, countable souls, clinging to survival.
The door creaked open, and Ahriman entered the room, his voice urgent.
"Butler, Leo has returned to the fortress."
Blake's eyes widened. Erebus' wolf—missing since the outbreak of the war, last seen fleeing into the forests—had reappeared after years of silence.
Ahriman hesitated, then added grimly, "But he brought two charred corpses with him."
Blake stood abruptly. "Where is the wolf now?"
"In the courtyard. He's frightened several of the newly hired servants," Ahriman replied with a faint smile.
Blake didn't wait for further details. He hurried from the study, descending the stone steps with increasing dread. The sight of two corpses brought in by Erebus' three legged beast stirred a gnawing fear in him—was it Erebus and Lady Luciana?
He emerged into the courtyard and found the great wolf seated beside the blackened remains. Blood stained Leo's muzzle, dried and crusted into his fur. As Blake cautiously approached, the beast wagged its tail, eyes fixed on him with a familiar calmness.
Reluctantly, Blake examined the corpses. Relief swept through him—it was not Erebus or Luciana, but an unknown couple. Still, the emptiness in his chest remained.
He later crossed the rear grounds, where Derran and a handful of farmers tended to crops grown from the seeds Luciana had entrusted to them. The harvest had improved, but the yield was insufficient to feed the entire refugee population. Hunger still stalked the land.
After instructing Ahriman and Amon to see the bodies buried, Blake led Leo into the keep.
As they crossed a corridor, a woman's voice broke the quiet.
"Lucius, don't eat that!"
Blake turned to see a young woman kneeling before a toddler, gently removing a stone from his curious hands. She had olive-green eyes and dark, loosely tied lower back-length ebony hair—Calypso Ashcroft, wife of Callum Ashcroft and sister-in-law to Erebus. The child, Lucius, bore her emerald eyes and curly black hair streaked with burnt orange—an unmistakable blend of his parents.
"Lady Ashcroft. And young lord Lucius," Blake greeted with a bow. "What brings you here?"
Calypso offered a polite smile. "We were just out for a walk, Sir Blake. The little one's restless these days."
Blake had only known Callum through Erebus, but he honored the man and his family with quiet reverence.
The child squirmed in his mother's arms, attempting once more to shove his hand into his mouth. Calypso sighed, producing a handkerchief to clean the boy's dusty fingers.
"There's a spring at the far end of the grounds," Blake offered. "You may use the water there."
Calypso blinked. "A spring? I don't recall one in the fortress."
Blake gave a small, nostalgic smile. "It's hidden. Lady Luciana often visited it when she was homesick. She would take the young master there. Though it's reserved for the lord and his family, I believe he would welcome your presence."
Intrigued, Calypso followed as Blake led her through winding paths to a towering pair of ornately carved wooden gates, aged and silent.
Blake pressed a concealed mechanism. With a deep groan, the massive gates creaked open, their ancient hinges shrieking like lost spirits. Calypso instinctively stepped back, clutching Lucius. The child, however, squealed with delight as the gates revealed a hidden garden beyond.
"Please, this way," Blake said gently.
Though hesitant, Calypso trusted the butler. Inside, they found a sanctuary untouched by ruin. Trees blossomed in white, gold, and violet,while the clear turquoise hot spring casting a fragrant mist over the glade. Lucius wriggled from her arms and dashed into the flowers, his laughter echoing in the air.
"It's like time itself paused here," Calypso whispered, her burdens easing for a moment.
Blake said nothing, his gaze lost in memories. He still hadn't told her the full truth.
After Callum arrived at the Stygian Frontier, they had spoken at length about the growing scarcity of resources. Callum had proposed a desperate measure: hunting down surviving demonic nobles, claiming the bounties, and salvaging anything of value—gold, gems, livestock. It was a ruthless plan, but one born of necessity.
They had also heard unsettling rumors—of a mysterious force waging war against demons. Not of the human realms, nor of Amanécer. Callum had dispatched scouts to investigate. None returned.
"Sir Blake?" Calypso's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Is there any word of my husband?"
Blake hesitated, coughed softly, then lowered his head. "Perhaps soon, my lady. For now, please enjoy some peace here. I'll send Mina and Lilith with refreshments."
He bowed and informed her of the gate's mechanism—a touch on the left pillar would open it—before taking his leave.
But as he stepped out into the main courtyard, chaos erupted.
Soldiers ran past in urgency. Derran approached, his face pale with dread.
Blake followed them to the infirmary, where six injured men groaned in pain. Blood soaked their uniforms.
"What happened?" Blake demanded.
"An unnatural landslide," one soldier rasped. "We lost two men... and Fuhrer Callum was caught in it."
The world tilted.
Blake's mind went blank, his heart thudding in his chest.
"Where did it happen?"
"Southern Achaemenid," another replied.
Blake's tone turned sharp. "Why were you there?"
"It was Fuhrer's command. He wanted to investigate the unknown army. We only followed orders."
Blake pressed a hand to his forehead, eyes shut tight.
Another wound. Another loss. Another thread to Erebus—snapped.