"Excuse me… could you repeat that?"
Talon's sharp voice cut the silence like a blade. "What do you mean you weren't informed about Eldoria? Do not play coy with me."
The trio traded glances—none of them had an answer that would sound remotely convincing. They embarked on this endeavor truly uninformed. Of no fault of their own.
"We had no idea we were supposed to be here yesterday!" Freedom insisted, his tone defensive but earnest. "Why would we make something like that up?"
"Pardon me, esteemed sir," Truth added, calm as ever, "but we are still without your name. If I may inquire?"
"You're not asking the right question, Truth," Justice said, eyes flicking between Talon and the still-smoking Leviathan behind them. She pointed at the archer, a grin stretching across her face. "You just took down a sea monster with one arrow! You're an archer—how the hell did you pull that off? Got any other surprises?"
Talon narrowed his eyes. "Name's Talon. And what I want to know is this—who told you to come here... but conveniently forgot to mention Eldoria?"
"Victory," Freedom answered immediately. "He sent us off two weeks ago—told us to head west. Man of few words, that guy."
Talon paused. The name hung in the air like smoke. His expression twisted—not quite anger, not quite surprise, but something wearier. "Of course it was Victory," he muttered, turning away, hands on his hips. "Unbelievable…"
"Did I say something wrong?" Freedom asked, frowning. "He was very specific about our destination."
"No," Talon sighed. "It's not your fault. It's just…"
Freedom stepped forward. "Then what is going on? You keep talking in riddles—just give it to us straight."
Talon spun back, frustration flashing in his eyes. "The truth is, Victory didn't tell you because he wanted you walking in blind. The Pillars—you—belong to Eldoria. That's your home. Your guild. Your responsibility. And he left that part out, didn't he?"
The silence that followed was heavier than the air after battle.
As they followed Talon down the dusty trail toward Eldoria, questions buzzed louder than answers. Why had Victory send them without explanation? What purpose did Eldoria serve in the war they barely understood?
The breeze was gentle as they walked. Sunlight streamed through gaps in the forest canopy. Birds chirped, unaware that the fate of the continent stirred on this dirt road.
Truth, ever perceptive, took in the flowered paths, the woven vines, the glimmers of untouched peace. Then, breaking the silence: "Talon… how did you know where to find us?"
Talon glanced back, his stride never breaking. "News travels fast. As I said, the Pillars were due yesterday. But more than that… rumors spread. A trio of elemental rookies wiping out seasoned threats? Word gets around."
Truth raised an eyebrow, smirking. "While I do not wish to boast… our reputation does precede us."
Talon chuckled. "Don't let it go to your head. Impressive, sure—but not legendary. Yet. And that cokes with time. With years."
Justice elbowed Freedom. "You were literally in the belly of the beast. Hard to brag from inside a stomach."
The trio laughed—battle-worn, bruised, but undeniably bonded.
The walls of Eldoria came into view—ancient stone carved with glowing runes, banners dancing in the breeze, and at the gate, a towering Lamassu statue, its eyes watching them like a judge ready to pass sentence.
Truth slowed, placing a hand on Freedom's shoulder. "Observe. That figure isn't just a statue."
Freedom followed his gaze. A lion's body. A man's face. Wings arched and ready.
"A Lamassu," Truth whispered. "Guardian of sacred places. It judges loyalty, weighs devotion. This isn't just a city. It's oathbound."
Freedom's eyes hardened. "Our mission hasn't changed. Torez is still the objective. That beast should count himself lucky we got waylaid."
Truth nodded. "Then we are aligned."
"Hey!" Talon barked ahead. "Keep up, would you?"
The two caught up, nerves taut like drawn arrows.
***
The city of Verdenfall lay in ruin—crumbling buildings, ash-coated roads, and silence where life once bustled. A lone figure walked through the wreckage, metallic arms gleaming beneath scorched sleeves.
Torez Warman. A rogue with a moral code only he understood. A fighter. A survivor.
And now… a man afraid.
He stepped through the wreckage toward a throne cobbled from the city's bones.
Upon it sat Kyras, goddess of chaos and fire, draped in scarlet robes. Her crimson hair spilled like blood. Her eyes glowed with cruel amusement.
"Well. Look who's still breathing." she mused.
Torez stopped a few feet from her, his shadow swallowed by hers. "You know why I'm here."
Her smile grew. "Oh, I love when men skip the foreplay. By all means—what's your big request?"
"I want protection."
A pause.
Then Kyras leaned back on her throne, smirking. "That's disappointing. You, of all people… you, who dodged the smite of judgment for years, now come begging?"
"I leveled a town." His voice was flat. "And I survived something I shouldn't have. The new Pillars of Judgement… they're young, but they're lethal. Trained for war. And only one man comes to mind that would pluck lost kids and mold them into self important heroes of their story."
"Yawn," Kyras said, spinning a finger in the air. "You're losing your edge, Warman."
He leaned in. "They were trained by Victory."
That got her attention.
Her eyes narrowed, lips curling in fascination. "Victory… that stubborn fool's still playing the long game."
Torez nodded. "He made monsters."
"No… he made warriors," she whispered, sitting upright. "And if that's true… then maybe there's still hope for you. I tell you what, we have a deal. Maybe. I am inclined to exercise leniency today, which bodes well for you."