The first ship arrived with the spring tides.
Sunrei stood at the cliff's edge, watching the unfamiliar sails crest the horizon. The golden brand on his wrist pulsed faintly not in warning, but in quiet recognition.
Strangers.
Kaelis appeared at his side, her knives already in hand. Not ours.
The vessel flew no colors, its sails patched with foreign designs. Three figures stood at the prow, their postures rigid even from this distance.
Liri joined them, her silver hair whipping in the salt wind. They bear no marks.
Sunrei's fingers brushed his golden brand. Not all scars are visible.
As the ship drew closer, the lead figure raised a hand not in greeting, but in a gesture that made Kaelis hiss through her teeth.
The Eclipse salute.
Impossible.
The brands were gone.
The Maw was dead.
And yet
The figure's sleeve fell back, revealing flesh carved with familiar jagged lines.
Not a brand.
A tattoo.
Sunrei's golden mark burned like fresh iron.
The strangers brought whispers of a world beyond the ruined shores.
Their leader a woman with eyes like flint spoke in measured tones as her companions unloaded crates onto the blackened sand. The Eclipse fell, but its roots run deep. There are those who remember. Those who worship.
Kaelis's knife found the woman's throat before anyone could blink. Then you've sailed to your grave.
The woman didn't flinch. We're not your enemies.
She rolled up her sleeve.
The tattoo wasn't just lines it was a map.
Cities. Strongholds.
Marked ones.
Sunrei's breath caught. How?
The woman smiled. The brands are gone, but the power remains. Scattered. Waiting.She nodded to Sunrei's wrist. Especially there.
Liri stepped forward. What do you want?
The answer came not from the woman, but from the crate her companions pried open.
Inside lay a skeleton
Clutching a brand.
The First.
The fire that night burned hotter than usual.
Sunrei studied the skeletal remains, the ancient brand still fused to its fingers. The design was unmistakable the same jagged lines as his golden mark, but twisted, wrong.
Kaelis paced behind him. This is a trap.
Liri traced the brand's edge with a trembling finger. Or a warning.
The stranger woman Ryna, she'd called herself knelt beside them. Neither. It's an invitation.
She placed a weathered journal on the firelight. The pages fell open to a sketch of a tower not the Spire, but something older. Something hungrier.
The First Brand wasn't destroyed, Ryna said. It was split. Scattered. Your golden mark is but one piece.
Sunrei's brand pulsed in agreement.
Ryna met his gaze. And the others are waking.
Dawn found Sunrei at the shore again.
The ship waited, its sails limp in the still air. Ryna and her crew stood ready, their tattooed arms bared to the morning light.
Kaelis adjusted her knives. You don't have to go.
Liri said nothing, her silver hair hiding her expression.
Sunrei studied the golden brand. The power hummed beneath his skin, restless. Hungry.
He'd thought the war over.
He'd been wrong.
Some promises couldn't be broken.
Some roads demanded walking.
Sunrei stepped onto the ship.
Behind him, Kaelis and Liri followed without a word.
As the sails caught wind, Sunrei watched the shoreline fade.
The golden brand burned brighter with every league.
Somewhere ahead
The First Brand waited.
And with it
The truth.