The wind had grown colder by the time Aswad reached the edge of the Mythic Base. The moon hung low over Lumisgrave, casting long shadows across the tall spires and crystalline banners. The torches outside the entrance gates flickered gently, guarded by two stationed knights who saluted silently as Arslan passed.
He dismounted without a word, boots hitting the stone with a heavy echo. Aswad snorted softly and trotted toward the small corner stable. Arslan exhaled, adjusting his cloak. His mind was still tangled with the letter, the key… and the name.
> "Jarco..." he murmured inwardly.
As he entered the hallway of the Base, footsteps approached quickly.
Nirela Quen, radiant in her moonlight-attuned robes, stood near the entrance arch, arms crossed.
"Where were you, Arslan?" she asked, her voice calm but tinted with concern.
Before Arslan could answer, Kar'Thæl's voice stirred gently from within.
> "Tell the truth. They deserve to know… some of it."
Arslan looked directly at Nirela. He nodded slightly.
"I went to find something about my father," he said.
From behind Nirela, Tharion Vale appeared, sweat still clinging to his brow from the day's training. He raised an eyebrow.
"Where'd your father go that needs tracking?" he asked, not mockingly, but curious.
Arslan looked away briefly, his eyes catching the blue torchlight on the walls.
"He… was lost," he said. "Sixteen years ago. I promise I'll explain it all. But not now. Just… not tonight."
The words carried weight. Heavy with memory.
The room was quiet. Even Tarric, Seris, and Yuna stood still behind the corridor corners, listening silently.
Nirela nodded, stepping back slightly. "You'll tell us when you're ready."
Arslan offered a grateful glance. He walked past them toward his room.
Every eye watched with respect.
They knew he carried more than his own burden.
The door closed behind him with a soft creak.
He dropped the cloak beside his bed and placed the scrolls carefully onto his desk. The letter and key he kept close, unwrapping them once more under the glow of the bluish wall-lamp.
The key's iron gleam shimmered in his palm.
Kar'Thæl stirred again, voice softer, deeper.
> "We were right, Arslan. Everything that happened to you... your entiry, your Pain— it wasn't random. It was planned. Designed. Prepared."
Arslan sat down slowly, eyes not leaving the key.
"You're saying… my father did this to me?"
> "Yes. But not to harm you. To prepare you. For what's coming."
Arslan leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He held the key between two fingers, thinking deeply.
"Kar'Thæl…" he began, "Who is Jarco?"
There was a long pause.
Then, a chuckle.
> "Ah. You found that name too. I've been avoiding it."
Arslan didn't move.
> "Jarco," Kar'Thæl said at last, "is my father."
Arslan's head rose slowly. "Your father?"
> "Yes. Jarco was one of the first who created the bridges between dimensions — even taught us restraint. And… he was friends with your father."
Arslan stood up, heart racing. "Then that means… my father and yours worked together?"
> "Indeed. I'm just as surprised. It seems your father knew I would bond with you — far before either of us were ready."
The room grew colder. A subtle chill swept in, not from wind, but from truth.
Kar'Thæl continued, voice now mixed with pride and awe.
> "That key you hold… it's the Key of my World. It can open the sealed paths between realms. It doesn't just belong to this realm — it belongs to many. It can awaken gateways."
Arslan stared at it again, the weight in his hand heavier now.
"So we can travel…" he whispered. "Even to the demon world?"
> "Yes. But don't be foolish."
Kar'Thæl's tone sharpened.
> "You are not ready to face Demon Lords. They'll tear your body apart and shatter your soul. Even I cannot protect you if they focus on you alone."
Arslan's jaw tightened. "But we could try. Save families... those trapped beyond."
> "And die trying? Not yet. The war isn't here. You're not ready. I'm not ready. That key leads to truth — but only when the time is right."
Arslan slumped slightly, defeated but understanding. The fire in him simmered beneath the sorrow.
"So what do we do now?" he asked.
Kar'Thæl's voice softened.
> "You rest. You've done enough for one day. Tomorrow, we'll talk about the hidden entity sleeping inside your core. There is more to you than even your father knew."
Arslan laid back against the bed, the soft fabric of his dark blanket brushing over him. He placed the key on the bedside stand, next to the letter.
"Alright," he said quietly. "We'll talk tomorrow."
The glowstone dimmed.
The outside winds howled lightly beyond the window.
And Arslan drifted to sleep, the last sound in his mind being Kar'Thæl's calm, almost fatherly voice:
> "Good night… son of Saeed. The truth begins now."