Darius stirred with his head spinning. The world around him swayed and dimmed. The hiss of fire reached his ears, and when his vision steadied, he saw Roder, Tessa, and the other men gathered around the flames, their faces half-lit by the burning light. Night had already fallen.
A sharp pain bit into his wrists when he tried to move. He looked down and realised he had been bound tightly to the trunk of a tree, seated on the cold earth. Turning his head, he found Favian tied in the same manner beside him, slowly regaining consciousness.
"Favian," Darius rasped. "Are you awake?"
Favian groaned, blinking hard. "I am… Where are we—" His eyes widened as he noticed the ropes. "What in the gods' name…"
One of the men by the fire noticed their movement. "Roder," he called. "They're awake."
Roder rose, his face lighting up with mock delight. "Well, look who's decided to join us again," he said, strolling closer. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep through the night."
Favian's voice was calm but laced with anger. "Why are you doing this, Roder? We're Truthers… same as you. We should be helping each other, not binding one another like prisoners."
Roder chuckled under his breath. "Ah, don't make it sound so tragic, Favian. It's nothing personal." He crouched before them, the fire's glow dancing across his eyes. "Not all Truthers are meant to survive, you know that. The Valiant have taught us one thing; only the clever stay alive."
"So this is about survival?" Favian spat.
"Survival," Roder said with a smirk, "and a bit of profit. You two have fine weapons, valuable tools. I could make good use of them."
Darius clenched his jaw, the ropes digging deeper into his wrists. "You'd betray your own kind for steel?"
Roder tilted his head slightly. "Steel, food, safety— call it what you will. The world has no mercy for the weak, boy. I'm only adapting."
Tessa stood a few steps behind him, her gaze moving uneasily between the bound men and Roder. Darius caught her eye, hoping for a spark of compassion, but she quickly looked away.
Roder crouched in front of them again, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "I've been waiting for you two to wake," he said, rubbing his hands together, "so the stone can work properly."
Darius frowned weakly. "What stone?" he murmured.
Roder's grin widened as he reached into his tunic and pulled out a small, dark stone etched with faint circular markings that glowed like pale moonlight. "The Revelation Stone," he said, his voice dripping with pride. "A rare relic. It reveals whatever you hide from the world."
Favian's face tightened. "Don't you dare…"
"Oh, I will," Roder interrupted, raising the stone toward him. "[Reveal armoury]."
At once the markings on the stone glowed in light blue and streams of white light creased around Favian. His sword, his knives, and a set of small metallic spheres all emerged from the air, suspended and gleaming before him. The other men gasped quietly, marvelling at the strange weapons now floating in plain sight.
Roder nodded, pleased. "Very impressive, Favian. You've been hiding quite a collection." Then he turned to Darius. "Now, let's see what secrets you carry, shall we?"
He lifted the glowing stone again. "[Reveal armoury]."
A pulse of blue light rippled through the air, and two swords appeared before Darius— one slender and bright like molten silver, and the other black as storm clouds, its edges whispering with faint smoke.
The sight froze Roder in place. His eyes widened. "By the gods…" he breathed, stepping closer. "That sword…" he pointed at the black one "where did you get that?"
Darius said nothing, glaring silently at him.
Roder's fascination deepened. "You have no idea what this is, do you? That blade's known as the Spirit of Death. Only a fool would carry such a cursed relic."
He bent closer, his face alight with greed. "But in the right hands…" he whispered, extending his hand to touch it.
"Roder, don't—!" Favian shouted.
The moment Roder's fingers brushed the blade, a deafening boom erupted. A flash of dark light hurled him backward like a rag doll. He slammed into the burning campfire, sending embers and flames shooting into the air.
The men around him screamed in panic, scrambling to drag him out as smoke and fire began to consume him.
Favian and Darius exchanged a look of fear, confusion, and opportunity all at once.
Tessa screamed, darting forward toward the blaze as the other men scrambled to smother the fire that was devouring Roder. His body writhed amid the crackling flames, his cries already fading beneath the roar of burning wood and canvas.
Favian's eyes flicked to Darius, and in a heartbeat, he saw their chance. He thrust his leg forward, letting the tip of his boot brush the hilt of his sword.
The blade shimmered into being, answering his touch, and in one swift motion, Favian seized the hilt, slicing through the ropes that bound his wrists. The cords fell away like wilted vines. With a single turn of his wrist, he cut through Darius' bonds as well.
"Now!" Favian hissed.
Darius staggered to his feet, still dizzy, while chaos erupted around them. The men had finally beaten down the fire, but what was left of Roder was a blackened ruin, barely human. Tessa fell beside him, clutching what remained, her voice breaking into a wail that echoed through the night.
Favian reclaimed his bow; Darius grabbed his swords, his gaze sweeping the ground… then he spotted it: the Revelation Stone. It lay dull and lifeless now, its glow extinguished. He snatched it quickly, shoving it into his satchel.
As Tessa wept over Roder's charred body, a sudden glow rippled through the air. His corpse began to crumble… skin, flesh, and ash scattering like dust caught in the wind. Tessa screamed again as his body dissolved into nothing.
The remaining men turned on Favian and Darius, fury etched on their soot-streaked faces. Steel rasped as swords were drawn.
Favian's bow was already raised, his arrow trained on the nearest man. "Darius… run!" he barked, eyes never leaving his targets.
Darius hesitated only a moment before bolting toward the horses tethered at the edge of the clearing. Favian stepped back, his breathing calm and steady. One wrong move, and the men would rush him.
Then, without warning, Favian reached into his belt and pulled one of his small iron spheres. He slammed it to the ground.
Boom!
A burst of thick smoke engulfed the camp. The men shouted, blinded and coughing. Through the haze, Favian broke into a sprint, vaulting onto his horse.
Within seconds, he and Darius were riding hard into the darkness.
Darius and Favian rode without pause, though they both knew the men they'd left behind had no horses and could not hope to catch them, neither slowed. Favian urged his mount forward, leading them through an unknown path that wound deep into the wilderness.
After what felt like hours of relentless galloping, Favian finally reined in his horse beside a small pond nestled beneath a cluster of moonlit trees. The air was still, save for the quiet rustle of leaves and the gentle lapping of water against stone.
He dismounted, guiding his weary horse to the pond's edge to drink. Darius followed silently, his own mount lowering its head to the water.
As the horses drank, Darius watched Favian's face. The moonlight caught in his eyes; sad, distant, heavy with thought. Darius knew what shadowed his companion's gaze.
He hesitated, then said softly, "Ron…"
Favian cut him short, his voice low and bitter. "He's already dead."
Darius said nothing. Crickets sang faintly in the background, but it could not drown the grief that lay between them.
Favian's jaw tightened. "Curse that woman," he muttered darkly. "Curse Tessa for leading us to those traitors. And curse Roder for his greed and delay. If not for them, Ron might still be alive."
He clenched his fist, his reflection ruffling in the pond as his anger trembled through him. The moonlight shined on his wet eyes, but he blinked the emotion away, turning from the water.
Darius lowered his head with a tight chest. There was nothing left to say.
Darius broke the silence after a long while, his voice low and thoughtful. "Favian… did you know that some Truthers could turn against their own? For loot, or for power?"
Favian shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the pond's surface. "No," he said quietly. "Most of the ones I've met were too busy fighting for their lives, not stealing from others who share their fate."
He turned toward Darius with his weary face. "But it wouldn't surprise me. The longer we stay in this world, the more desperate people become. Some Truthers may already be forming bands, small groups, fighting to survive by any means. We'll need to be careful whom we trust."
Darius nodded slowly. "Then perhaps we should start a group of our own," he suggested. "Recruit other Truthers we meet; those still wandering alone. Together, we'd stand a better chance."
Favian considered that with approval in his gaze. "That may not be a bad idea," he said at last. "But first, we need to find a place to disappear for a while."
"Where do you suggest?" Darius asked.
Favian turned to him, a faint, grim smile crossing his lips. "Sadnon."
Darius frowned. "Sadnon? But that's another evil Viceroy's domain. The persecution there must be just as fierce, perhaps worse."
Favian adjusted the reins of his horse and mounted again. "Exactly why we should go," he replied. "Tessa and her kind won't think to seek us there. They'll believe we'd never dare ride into such a place."
Darius sighed, glancing once more at the still water, then at the dark forest stretching beyond. "Sadnon it is, then."
They mounted their horses, and turned their steeds toward the distant east. The two Truthers rode on into the darkness, toward Sadnon, and whatever fate awaited them there.