The sun was merciless when Alec fluttered his eyes open.
For a moment, he didn't know where he was. The memory of the dwarves, the golems, and the shining hall of swords felt so vivid… yet so far away. His breathing was uneven as he sat up, his head spinning.
He blinked rapidly. The cave roof loomed above him — cracked and dark. The faint glow of the memory stone had long faded. On the ground, William and Sir Richard were still asleep.
"…Was it all a dream?" he whispered to himself.
His fingers instinctively brushed against his ring finger. Something cold touched his skin — a metallic band, faintly glowing blue. The Bu Jin Ring.
Alec's heart skipped. He quickly hid his hand inside his sleeve.
'No. It wasn't a dream.'
He clenched his fist, trying to calm his racing thoughts. The dwarves, the temple, the deal — everything had been real. But how did he get back here? And… why did his body feel so heavy?
Before he could think further, Sir Richard stirred awake.
"Up already?" His voice was hoarse but calm.
"Yeah," Alec replied quickly, avoiding eye contact. "Didn't sleep well."
William stretched and yawned. "Understandable. It's like sleeping inside a tomb."
Sir Richard glanced toward the entrance. "Then let's not stay here any longer. We've already lost enough time. The map's gone… and the desert's not getting any cooler."
They packed up what little they had and stepped outside. The morning light hit their faces like a furnace. Sand stretched endlessly in every direction — golden, silent, and cruel.
Hours passed as they walked. The desert wind howled, carrying the faint scent of salt from faraway dunes.
William broke the silence first.
"So… what now? The map's in someone else's hands, and we don't even know who this 'Olto' is."
Alec pretended to think, though he already knew more than he was letting on. "Maybe that lizard guy worked under him," he said, his tone calm but distant.
Sir Richard nodded slightly. "Olto. That name sounds familiar. Could be a collector… or a smuggler. Either way, the fact that he wanted that map means he knows something about the Rings."
William kicked a rock aside, frowning. "I just don't get it. What even are these rings? Why are people dying over them?"
"Power," Sir Richard replied simply. "That's all it ever is."
Alec smiled faintly, his eyes lowering. "Yeah… power."
He could feel the ring's warmth pulsing under his glove, as if it understood the conversation. He clenched his fist tighter, afraid that if he spoke more, they'd hear the faint hum it made.
Sir Richard slowed his pace to glance back at Alec. "You're unusually quiet today."
Alec blinked. "Just thinking."
"About what?" William asked, teasingly.
"About how unlucky we are," Alec muttered, forcing a smirk. "Every time we think we're close to a clue, someone else gets it first."
Sir Richard huffed. "That's the nature of pursuit. Someone's always ahead."
They continued walking in silence. Only the sound of boots crunching sand filled the air. The heat shimmered, bending the horizon into waves of light.
Alec's mind, however, was elsewhere.
He could still hear the dwarf chief's voice — "Say its name, and it will answer you."
He could almost feel the sword's presence waiting inside the ring.
It called to him — softly, but persistently.
He shook his head to clear the thought. No one could know. Not William. Not Sir Richard. Especially not them.
They reached a ridge as the sun began to set, painting the dunes crimson. From up there, the desert looked endless — a graveyard of gold.
William sighed and sat down. "If we walk any further, I'll melt."
Sir Richard chuckled quietly. "We'll rest here for the night. The capital's still a few days away."
Alec didn't respond. He simply stood there, watching the dying sun. The desert wind brushed his hair back. For a brief moment, his reflection appeared in the gleam of his ring — and his eyes shimmered gold before fading back to their usual hue.
No one saw it.
Not this time.
The desert night was quieter than death.
Alec sat on a dune a little distance from camp, knees drawn up, staring at the Bu Jin Ring.
It glowed faintly under the moonlight — the same cold, patient shine as the moon itself.
He turned it slowly on his finger, the surface catching silver streaks of light. The ring felt alive — whispering in the silence, its pulse faint but constant.
"Even the moon looks dull next to you," he murmured.
A breeze stirred the sand. Somewhere far off, a jackal howled.
Alec's reflection flickered in the metal — a momentary shimmer of gold in his eyes. He looked away before the thought could take root again.
Sleep never came easily anymore.
---
By the time the sun rose, the desert had begun to fade behind them, replaced by the faint greens and browns of the outer plains. The three of them traveled in silence until the first rooftops of a small town appeared ahead — Calden, a sleepy settlement nestled against a ridge. This place was what they knew as the Capital
At the heart of the town stood Aileen's Inn, a two-story building painted in worn cream and gold. Smoke rose lazily from its chimney, and the sound of laughter spilled through the open doors.
Sir Richard exhaled with satisfaction.
"Finally, civilization."
They stepped inside, greeted by the smell of roasted meat and warm bread. The atmosphere was lively, crowded with travelers and townsfolk.
Behind the counter stood Aileen, her sleeves rolled to her elbows, hair tied in a neat braid, eyes sharp enough to cut glass.
"Well, look who decided to come back alive," she said, her tone cool but her smile genuine.
"Aileen," William grinned, spreading his arms. "You missed me?"
"Not particularly," she replied, placing three mugs on the counter with clean precision. "You look half-dead. Sit down before you drop mud on my floor."
William chuckled, unbothered. Alec stood beside him, quietly taking in the scene.
Aileen's movements were practiced — efficient, graceful. Not a gesture wasted.
From behind the doorway peeked Noah, her younger brother.
His silver hair fell over his eyes, and he nearly tripped over himself when he noticed Alec looking his way.
"H-Hi," he stammered, barely audible.
Alec gave a polite nod. William, on the other hand, grinned. "Hey, Noah. Still hiding behind your sister?"
Noah straightened slightly. "I-I don't hide."
Aileen smirked. "He does."
Sir Richard was already making his way to the largest table in the center of the inn. As soon as he sat down, half the crowd turned their heads. Within moments, he was surrounded by young men and women, eager for a story.
"Sir Richard!" one of them exclaimed. "We heard you were in the southern desert again! Did you really fight those… what do you call them? Snorpions?"
Richard leaned back, clearly pleased. "Ah, yes, the snorpions. Twice the size of an anaconda, venomous enough to kill an ox in seconds. Fearsome beasts, truly."
The crowd gasped, and he smiled wider.
Alec and William exchanged a look.
"He's starting again," William muttered.
Richard continued with enthusiasm. "There we were — stranded, surrounded. My companions were injured, helpless, practically paralyzed with fear—"
William's jaw tensed. "Excuse me?"
Aileen poured him a drink without looking up. "He's been telling that same kind of story since I met him. The hero of every battle."
Alec chuckled softly. "At least he's consistent."
Aileen's lips twitched, almost a smile. "Consistency is admirable. Even in exaggeration."
They sat at the counter, letting the laughter and applause from Richard's table fill the space.
Noah hovered nearby, occasionally glancing at William but retreating the moment Alec turned his head.
"Still shy?" Alec asked lightly.
William leaned on the counter. "He talks just fine with me."
"Because you actually listen," Aileen said, sliding a tray onto a nearby table. "Most people don't. Besides, you two spent a lot of time together when Alec was with sir Alestor. Guess he opened up to you."
Alec's eyes followed her briefly — the precision in her movements, the calmness in her tone.
She seemed like the sort of person who noticed everything but never said more than needed.
For a moment, he wondered what she'd say if she did know what they were really searching for.
But Aileen never asked — and Alec didn't plan on telling.
The laughter from Richard's table rose again. Someone cheered, "Tell us how you saved them, Sir Richard!"
Richard thumped his chest. "Ah, yes. They owe me their lives, you see! Those poor lads would've been sand for the worms if not for my sword."
William groaned into his drink." He may have swung the sword but I was the one who told him how to actually kill it."
Alec gently elbowed him, a small grin. "Let him have his glory. He'll sleep better tonight."
The night settled over Calden like a quiet sigh.
The inn's laughter had faded, and the last of the candles burned low, their wax spilling like molten gold.
Aileen leaned on the counter, arms crossed, watching the three travelers.
"So," she began, her tone sharp but not unkind, "did Sir Richard actually fight a snorpion, or did he just imagine one this time?"
William barked a laugh. "You noticed?"
"Everyone noticed," she replied dryly. "Half the inn's never even heard of a snorpion before tonight."
Alec smiled faintly. "He didn't imagine it. The creature was real."
Aileen's brows lifted. "And dangerous?"
"Lethal," Alec said simply. "But it wasn't the hardest thing we faced down there."
Her expression softened — curious but careful not to pry. "You three really do attract trouble."
William grinned. "It's a talent."
They spoke for a few more minutes — small talk, shared smiles, the kind of light conversation that almost made the night feel normal. Eventually, Aileen stretched and told them she'd close up, leaving the rest of the lanterns burning low for the guests.
---
The three of them went upstairs to Alec's room — a quiet corner room at the end of the hall.
A faint chill drifted in through the open window.
Alec sat on the edge of the bed, turning the Bu Jin Ring between his fingers, its faint glow slipping over the walls like pale moonlight. William watched, curiosity flickering in his eyes, but he said nothing.
Richard leaned against the table, loosening his belt strap. "Well, that was a complete waste of a trip," he said lightly. "No answers, no relics, no clue about what caused your little outburst of cursed mana. Just a skeleton and a bunch of traps."
The room smelled faintly of sand and steel. The desert's wind still clung to their cloaks, carrying whispers of the journey behind them. Alec sat near the window, watching the moonlight slide across his knuckles. The Bu Jin Ring shimmered faintly against his skin — quiet, alive, and watching him back.
Richard kicked off his boots with a groan. "I'm never stepping into a cave again. Not unless gold's dripping off the walls."
William leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. "You'd still complain if it did."
"I'd complain louder," Richard said. "That's heavy work."
Alec smirked faintly but said nothing. His fingers never left the ring.
Then, a soft sound — the creak of a window latch.
"You always forget to lock those," came a calm, familiar voice.
Sir Alestor stepped through the open window, landing with the ease of someone who had done this too many times. His cloak brushed the floor, and the faint scent of dust and sage followed him.
Richard looked up, unimpressed. "You could try using doors. We do have those."
"I like the breeze," Alestor said mildly, pulling up a chair. His eyes swept across them — sharp, quiet, weighing every bruise and every silence. "You look like men who found something and lost more."
Alec exhaled slowly. "We found Alfred Cheng."
The old knight's eyes stilled. "And?"
"We were too late," William said quietly. "He was already gone when we reached him."
"I see," Alestor murmured. He folded his hands, calm as ever. "Did you find any trace of what happened?"
Alec nodded. "There was a memory stone — I triggered it by accident when we entered the cave. It showed everything."
Richard leaned forward slightly. "Cheng was meditating. Looked fine, focused… until a lizard-looking man barged in."
William added, "They fought. Cheng held his ground for a while, but the lizard killed him. He was after something — a map."
Alestor's expression didn't change, but his gaze sharpened, just a fraction. "A map?"
Alec nodded. "A map that leads to the Rings of Fate. At least, that's what he said."
The room went still.
For the briefest moment, something flickered behind Alestor's composed eyes — surprise, disbelief… recognition. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
"I see," he said slowly. "And you're sure that's what he said?"
Alec nodded again. "Positive. The memory was clear."
Richard frowned. "Wait—those rings are just myths, right?"
Alestor smiled faintly. "Myths are often more dangerous when they're half true."
Alec exchanged a glance with William. They both caught the hesitation in their master's voice — a hesitation that said he knew more than he was letting on. But with Richard here, he wouldn't say it.
William cleared his throat. "Before Alfred died, the lizard mentioned someone named Olto."
"Olto…" Alestor repeated, tasting the name carefully. "No record of anyone by that name. Not in the Academy, not in the Guild."
He tapped his fingers against the table — thoughtful, controlled. "Did the memory show where the lizard went afterward?"
Alec shook his head. "It ended there. But in the cave… there was something else."
"What kind of something?"
"His body," William said. "Or what's left of it."
Alec finished the account quietly, his eyes fixed on the floor.
"…and when the memory ended," he said, "his body was gone. All that was left was a skeleton."
Sir Alestor's expression didn't change, but his hand froze halfway to his teacup.
"That's impossible," he said softly. "I saw Alfred five months ago."
The room fell silent. The fire cracked once.
Alec looked up. "Then how could he have turned into that—"
Alestor's gaze met his, calm and cold. "He didn't."
He rose from his chair, the shadows curling behind him like smoke.
"Whatever you saw… it wasn't time that took Alfred Cheng."
He turned toward the window, the lamplight catching the faint sigil on his sleeve — the mark of the old mage order.
"Something else did."
The wind outside howled once, sharp and hollow, rattling the window frames.
And beneath it, for just a moment, Alec thought he heard a whisper —
a voice that wasn't human, murmuring his name.