The morning sun crept over the horizon, its light piercing through the thinning canopy. Two days had passed since Julian had joined Gamble's group, and the signs of fatigue were written clearly on their faces. Their steps dragged, their eyes were heavy, and even Gamble carried the strain in his shoulders. Yet Julian remained silent and steady, his body wrapped in bandages from nightly battles, showing no outward sign of weariness.
The forest grew unnaturally quiet. No birdsong. No rustling of small animals. Only the crunch of boots against soil.
"Keep moving," Gamble commanded, his voice sharp and unyielding. The others obeyed despite their exhaustion—driven not by strength but by his will. They were only hours away from their destination, and he had no patience for delay.
And then, at last, the trees ended. The air turned damp, heavy, harder to breathe. A great wall rose before them, stone and iron crowned with banners, guarded by soldiers in white uniforms with long spears.
They had arrived at Siest, the first city of the western region—a so-called free city, ruled not by one great alliance, but by fractured, minor powers clinging to their scraps of authority.
The gates creaked open. The guards stepped forward with weapons raised, but recognition dawned when they saw Gamble. Spears lowered. The group was waved through without question.
Inside, Siest thrived with restless energy. Blacksmiths hammered steel, taverns overflowed with noise, and the streets bustled with traders, mercenaries, and wanderers. Unlike the ordered eastern cities, this place felt chaotic yet alive—lawless freedom disguised as prosperity.
Cabel broke the silence first, eyes narrowing at Gamble.
"They know you well here. Just what exactly is your position?"
Gamble paused only a moment before replying flatly, "I'm one of the wealthiest men in this city. A patron of its council. And I control a faction dedicated to gathering cores—cores I send directly to Lord Mondrick."
The group exchanged startled glances. Wealth. Power. Influence. It explained much—and warned them that Gamble was more than just their guide.
They entered a tavern, claimed a table, and ordered food. Julian stood near the window, watching the city with unreadable eyes until Gamble called out.
"Julian. Sit. Eat."
For a moment Julian didn't move, but then, without a word, he obeyed.
Plates were cleared, and silence hung heavy until Gamble finally leaned forward, his expression grave.
"From here on, I am not responsible for you. Lord Mondrick has given each of you your tasks. I'll point you toward where to begin, nothing more."
Shock rippled across the group. Harris spoke first.
"He told me to grow stronger, to remove the obstacles in my way."
Cabel added, "Noel and I were ordered to expand influence in the Slink region."
Noel nodded firmly beside him.
Julian spoke last, his voice calm but edged.
"I need to find where the wind-beasts gather."
Gamble let out a long breath. "Fine. Harris—I'll provide you coin and tools. You'll go alone. Cabel and Noel, I'll arrange for someone to take you across the sea to Slink. And Julian… the wind-beasts are thickest at the Stormspire Range. Ask around. You'll find it."
At that, Noel frowned in confusion. "Across the sea? Why must we cross the ocean just to reach Slink?"
A sigh escaped Gamble, as though disappointed by the question. "Slink isn't a province, girl. It's a massive island in the heart of the western ocean. Its population is vast, its cities many. The voyage itself is perilous—that's why our alliance has little hold there."
Cabel's face tightened with unease. "So you're sending us to our deaths. Crossing the western seas is madness."
Noel nodded hesitantly in agreement.
"This is Lord Mondrick's order," Gamble cut them off. "And death is not certain. Many survive the crossing. More than you think."
Harris slammed his fist on the table. "Then Noel won't go. She stays with me!"
"Lord Mondrick commanded she go with me, not you," Cabel snapped back, anger flaring.
Their voices rose, sparks of a fight imminent. Gamble said nothing, watching with cold detachment.
It was Julian who broke the tension, his voice calm, almost disinterested.
"Why not ask her opinion before you fight over her?"
The table stilled. Both brothers turned toward Noel. Her hands trembled in her lap, her eyes darting between them. Finally, she spoke, her voice quiet but resolute.
"We should follow Lord Mondrick's orders. I'll go with Cabel."
Cabel smirked in triumph. Harris's face twisted in defeat, his jaw tight as he sat back with a scowl.
Gamble rose from the table, his cloak brushing the floor. "Then it's settled. Rest for now. I'll prepare your paths. When the time comes, you'll each walk the road Mondrick has chosen for you."
The group followed him through the streets until they reached a well-kept house—large, though not ostentatious. Gamble's home. Rooms were assigned: Noel alone, Julian with Cabel and Harris.
The day ended in uneasy silence, each of them weighed down not by exhaustion alone, but by the knowledge that their paths were no longer one.