The Mythic Base stood quiet under a silvered sky, streaked with violet clouds that marked the end of a long day. A gentle breeze flowed through the narrow corridors of the upper tier, brushing the carved stone railings with a whisper of anticipation.
Inside his room, Arslan stood by the window, his fingers tracing the faint blue glow of the energy barrier visible far in the distance. His mind, however, was elsewhere. The discussion with King Farhan earlier that day weighed heavily on him — the approval to go to Arcana had been granted, but the consequences still lingered like a fog he couldn't clear.
Just then, a familiar flicker sparked in the room's corner.
With a low hum and a flash of heat, Kar'Thæl appeared, materializing from the shadows — a storm of fire and aura coiling around his outline before settling. His horns gleamed faintly under the lantern light, and his eyes burned like embers.
Kar'Thæl smirked.
"Finally," he said, crossing his arms, "We got the King's blessing. We're clear to go to Arcana."
Arslan turned to face him, a half-smile forming.
"Yes... but that's only one piece of the puzzle." He paused, folding his arms. "I've been thinking — when we open the portal… what if someone from Arcana slips into our world? What if something dangerous crosses over while we're trying to leave?"
Kar'Thæl tilted his head.
"You worry like a father guarding a gate," he said, voice low. "But it's a fair point."
Arslan looked up, the concern plain in his eyes.
"Kar'Thæl... even one wrong move could bring chaos to Lumisgrave. We don't have room for mistakes."
Kar'Thæl nodded slowly, stepping closer.
"We'll open the portal in a secluded place — somewhere quiet, uninhabited. Not in the Capital, not even near Mythic Base. I've thought it through. There's an old territory in Arcana… 'Old Sun Land'. It's far from any settlements or active gates."
"Old Sun Land?" Arslan echoed, curious.
Kar'Thæl's tone deepened.
"It's where my ancestors used to forge their wills in flame. The place is ruined now — long forgotten, silent... but stable. No wild demons. No hunters. Just the ashes of what once was. If we go through there, no danger should reach this world."
Arslan nodded, visibly relieved.
"I hope you're right. One mistake… and the people here will suffer. I won't allow that."
Kar'Thæl chuckled lightly, voice carrying a rare softness.
"I know you won't. That's why I chose you."
As they stood in silence, a knock echoed on the door — light, rhythmic.
"Arslan?"
The voice was unmistakably Nirela's — calm, firm, always composed.
Behind her, Yuna's voice chimed in.
"We're heading to the market. Blacksmith's still open, and I need to sharpen my blade. You coming?"
Arslan opened the door with a small smile. "I could use a change of air."
Kar'Thæl rolled his eyes.
"Shopping?" he muttered, dissolving into the shadows. "I'll meet you when the stars align."
The walk from the Mythic Base to the Market district was lined with ancient stone lanterns, flickering gently as twilight descended. Golden runes floated faintly above the shops, each store trying to outshine the next with magical displays, floating signs, and smells of roasted spices.
The clatter of steel and sparks flying from anvils echoed down the cobbled streets. Blacksmiths stood bare-chested and muscled, fire licking the edges of their forges as they shaped blades of rare metals and enhanced runes.
As they entered, Master Vergen, the well-known blade-smith of the district, looked up from his forge and grinned.
"Ah! Mythic Knights in my humble shop. What honor! What are we sharpening today?"
Yuna stepped forward, drawing her curved silver blade with grace. "My Moonpiercer. It's dulled from last week's spar with Caelis."
Vergen whistled low, inspecting the edge.
"She's a fine piece. I'll treat her like a queen."
Nirela handed over her twin daggers next. "Same for mine. I need their grip light and edge hungry."
While the smith began his work, Arslan wandered slightly away from the forge, drawn by the scent of something savory. A few stalls down, a new shop had opened — no runes, no fancy signs, just the smell of steamed rice, sizzling vegetables, and seared spices.
He called over his shoulder, "You both done?"
Yuna laughed. "You found food, didn't you?"
"I did," he replied with a grin. "And it smells like something I haven't had in years."
They joined him at the small food stall, sitting on plain wooden benches beneath a paper canopy. The stall owner, a young woman with flour-dusted sleeves and a humble smile, served them warm bowls of rice topped with fire-grilled mushrooms, herb-oiled beef, and soft vegetables sprinkled with crushed lemon leaves.
The first bite felt like warmth on a winter night.
"This is amazing," Yuna murmured.
Arslan nodded silently, savoring each bite, but even here — amidst laughter, food, and brief peace — his mind drifted back to what lay ahead.
The portal. Arcana. His father.
His fingers tightened slightly around the bowl.
Nirela noticed, her eyes sharp even while she ate.
"Your mind's not here, Arslan."
He sighed, placing the empty bowl aside.
"I'm trying to be. But… every moment of calm feels like a countdown."
Yuna spoke gently.
"We're with you. You know that, right?"
"I do," Arslan replied, looking at both of them. "And I'm grateful. But there are places I have to go… things I have to face that none of you should be forced into."
Nirela's voice turned quiet.
"And yet we always find ourselves standing beside you."
Arslan didn't reply — not with words. But a flicker of gratitude passed through his expression.
---
Scene: Back at Mythic Base – Nightfall
As the trio returned to the Mythic Base, the night sky above them sparkled with constellations — but two moons hung higher than usual, a rare omen in Lumisgrave's skies.
Back in his room, Arslan stood at the window again.
Kar'Thæl emerged once more, his presence like a second heartbeat in the air.
"So," he said, "you're still doubting?"
"No," Arslan replied. "Just... preparing. Emotionally. Strategically."
Kar'Thæl nodded.
"You know... when we step into Arcana — we step into my past. But also, into our future."
Arslan looked over his shoulder.
"We'll find what we're looking for."
"And face what we've been running from," Kar'Thæl added solemnly.
Silence filled the room — heavy, but full of unspoken strength.
Outside, the winds shifted.
And in the distance, the stars over Arcana pulsed faintly — like a heartbeat calling its lost children home.