ADARA

Days had gone by with the slow return of the other Storm Wardens, some wheeled through the teleporters on carts. Injured, weary, with the more severe ones directed by Maria to head to the lower Infirmary. Limbs broken or smelling of decay and rot. Skin flayed or torn to bone. Depravity in visible form. Her hands clenched when Maria sent the more superficial injuries to the main ward, the promised necklace Yuven gave her entangling with her Oath. Among all the darkness around her, there was that one little piece of light.

Marriage preparations.

Stories of grand weddings to magical princes, and beautiful princesses in ethereal dresses — though the memories made her smile, it faltered to the quick. Hayvala Travon, the kind princess who held the ethereal beauty of her tales, dead; along with King Laucan, whose face she saw in Jisa, curious of the wider world, stumbling down a wrong path surrounded by the manipulations of others. Born and raised in terror. Adara clenched her fist, and shook the morbidity out of her head. Across from her, Fenrer unloaded unused supplies from the carriages with the help of other Wardens. Adara wandered up, her desire to do what she couldn't before at an all time high even after being waved off a couple times.

"We've got this," one of the Wardens piped up, cheery even surrounded by death. "Pyren." Fenrer held a box close to him when they called his name, and he tilted his head. "We can handle the rest."

Fenrer nodded, putting the last box aside before taking her by the arm and guiding her back to the citadel of spiraling alabaster towers which pierced past the mountain caldera. Clouds flitted about, a swirl of crisp, damp air while underneath her, the heart of the mountain invigorated the fire in her blood. Volcanic power, a force of nature. Adara wrapped her arm around Fenrer's, examining every inch once more. A place even Derelicts could not touch with their tainted being. Into the carved halls, she imagined the Storm Wardens of eld — Euron Traye, Evyriaz, the one who travelled away from his world to do battle against darkness, shadowed by the blonde-haired Atoran Lotayrin, whose horns curled upwards and gave him an imposing stature but retained the beautiful ferocity of the ice sirens. Each one whose names echoed through the marble pillars.

I can see why Yuven's so particular about the names of the Storm Wardens, past and present. There is a power to them. Adara curled her hand across her stomach and let Fenrer take the lead in the direction of the Warden Annex where Yuven spent most of his time juggling said wedding preparations and the reports from their time away from the Burning Abyss. Through the massive oak doors, the stacks of books raised high to the ceiling, where the multitudes of windows provided ample light. Up the spiral staircase to their usual place, Yuven sat at the table, though no longer surrounded by books. He had a letter in his hands, pinching at his own lips as his gaze raked over it. Adara raised her hand at her friend, though when his gaze flicked to her, she dropped it. "How are the wedding plans going?"

"On hold."

Adara frowned. "...why?"

Yuven held out the letter to Fenrer, who took it from him while Yuven stared down at the table. Adara took her own peek to figure out what had made Yuven stop his incessant pre-planning and organization. Until a name caught her eye. Neven Lotayrin. Yuven swallowed air. "That came in this morning," he said while Fenrer's eyes widened. "I got it from Warden-Commander Faehariel herself. We've been specifically requested to reinforce the posting at Asairai from Captain Lotayrin himself." Yuven's jaw worked at itself as he tossed a notebook onto the table and swayed on his hindquarters with one foot pressed against the table leg. Adara pinched the edge of the paper, taking it when Fenrer allowed it to slip out of his hands. "It seems—" Yuven tapped his fingers against the table. "They're at a deadlock when it comes to the cultists, because—"

Kemal is missing.

Adara frowned. "I've heard you mention that name before but... who is he?"

"He's Neven's Oathbound," Fenrer answered while Yuven stared at the window. "He helped raise us both when we were younger. He's a good man... but I don't understand how..." Fenrer drifted off, old grief settling across his brow. "Kemal wouldn't disappear like that on Neven. Oathbound are powerful because of their connection to each other and distance doesn't matter. It is a potent magick, not well understood but certainly famous for it. Unless—"

"Unless there is something very, very wrong," Yuven finished. "Because Neven doesn't know where he is. He should be able to have an inkling through the connection, but he mentioned he doesn't. So." He clapped his hands against his knees, straightening himself out into standing off his seat. "We're going to go over there, and continue where Miesero left off. I will be recommending that he is recalled in turn. From the contents of his letter..."

Adara looked down at it again, frowning at the scratchy writing, often repeating different points. Neven barely signed his name correctly. It trailed off in his surname, and she returned it to Fenrer's hands when Yuven approached them with a shake of his head. "We should expect the worst," he said, and Adara jolted at the usage of 'we', though held her questions to let him continue. "We are dealing with a cult whose goals we can only guess at, we may have temporarily subverted their plans at the Burning Abyss, but they still got the blood of kings within Naveera. I won't make any theories until I've seen the state of the posting, and Neven, for myself. Questions?"

"You said we."

"That isn't a question, Sazaka, but astute of you and now I'm no longer taking questions." Yuven bared his teeth at her in a wicked grin.

Fenrer answered for him instead, "What? Did you think we'd leave you here? I thought you wanted to be a Storm Warden." He paused, apprehension writ on his face. "Though, this isn't what I'd choose for someone's introduction to what being a Storm Warden entails when it comes to cults."

"Speak for yourself, Molvisaliz," Yuven said. "She has a lot to learn, and needs to accept all facets of our life. She's seen the destruction Derelicts cause — time to see the destruction people can do to feed them." He stepped between them with a huff. "You, Fenrer, myself and Maria will be taking the next boat with supplies to Elvkana where we will take port at Asairai. I'll take over as Captain from Neven and we get to work the moment our boots hit the harbor. I'd prepare for an extended stay and get practicing magick for one of us since what we're facing we'll need all the help we can get."

Some things never change. "Fenrer doesn't need to practice."

Yuven pursed his lips. "Don't worry, Sazaka, you also need to practice your foot and bladework and we'll spend every free moment doing that. I don't want you to slack after you've come so far." Yuven, the master of backhanded compliments, bared his fangs again and wandered past them with a shake of his hands, though his expression remained unamused as he threw a hand into Fenrer's shoulder. "I want you to check Neven when we're there, if I know him, he did not see an Aurus when Maria recommended it to him. He was always loath to trouble others," he muttered, and Adara strained to hear. "We both know he read an Obscura Text — for an extended period of time. I want you to purge whatever residual darkness within his head so he can breathe and sleep easier." His fingers dug into Fenrer's shoulder, causing him to study Yuven. "I want him out of there if the worst has happened to Kemal. He will not be thinking straight. Brace for a storm... we're going into one and I don't know what's on the other side of it."

Fenrer nodded and gave Yuven's shoulder a pat in return, and the stubborn Avaerilian headed for the spiral staircase. Once his feathers disappeared out of view, Adara remarked, "He's really worried." It took long for her to separate his abrasiveness from genuine concern.

"I am too," Fenrer admitted with far more ease than his own Oathbound. "I can tell from how Neven wrote compared to his usual penmanship that there is something wrong. Something he didn't mention in the letter." He looked down at it again, brow furrowed. "It could be because of the influence the Obscura Text left — but the aforementioned disappearance of Kemal, what we've been facing here. Yuven's right." He lifted his gaze away from the contents of the letter. "We're facing a stormfront on the horizon, and we're not ready. We haven't been ready since the Pact of Hundred. Our numbers dwindle Turn by Turn and Derelicts appear more and more. The King's Summit, the Burning Abyss. We've lost a lot of Storm Wardens in the span of a couple moons, and we don't recruit enough to make up for the deficit." Fenrer folded the letter to pocket it. "Considering we don't conscript anymore due to said Pact—"

"The Order's knee-capped on its capabilities."

Fenrer sent a nod her way with a small snap of his fingers. "Aye, and it takes will to join our ranks knowing the end result is often death. Many often can't accept that facet of life. There is nothing wrong with it, but sometimes I wonder if we'll be pressed into conscription again just to make up for the losses we've sustained, because whether you're a Storm Warden or not... Derelict is often the common cause of death. I know the Wardens past the south wall still use it from the reports I read with Yuven. But their situation is a little different from ours. Most of the strongest Derelicts are in the desert." He put a hand on his belt with a sigh. "I guess there's no point in mulling it over until the time comes. It's not in my control."

Adara followed him towards the spiral staircase. "What would you do?"

"Hm?"

"What would you do if you could decide?"

A weak smile crawled across his lips. "Ah, I'm not a leader. I wouldn't know. Yuven's a good leader because he can make the tough calls — can accept the consequences of them and follow them through, and I don't have that same..." He rubbed his fingers together in thought. "Yuven's just a different caliber to your regular Storm Warden. He is abrasive, yes, but as I told you way back, he takes his duty more seriously than most. It is one of his greatest strengths."

"Even though he's an abrasive, stubborn nuglet."

Fenrer laughed. "Yes, even then."

Adara smiled at the laugh, a far cry from the bout of depression Fenrer found himself in during his and Yuven's fight. "I think you'd be able to make the tough calls, there's a lot to being a leader than just making those decisions," she assured him with a pat on the arm. "You just need to be given a chance."

His smile softened. "Well, rare would the opportunity be for me to end up in a leadership position. I'm not a captain. If it comes down to me having to make calls in lieu of Yuven, Maria, or Neven, all three of them being captain's and having more authority over me, something has gone wrong." He squeezed the hand around his forearm. "I think... you'd make a good one though. You understand people at their core. Your compassion, empathy, willingness to never back down to save someone else." He tilted his head to rest it against hers when they slowed to a stop outside the Annex. "Yuven and I would've died if it wasn't for you. Many things would've gone wrong had it not been for you. It's not your magick that makes you powerful, Adara," he told her when he unfurled his other hand, allowing a burst of burning vines to swirl out of his glyph. "Magick is but a tool. What matters is who's using it, and why."

Adara took his weight with ease. "Considering it used to be that it was either flickering embers or raging wildfires..." She tilted her head back to smile at him. "I'll take something more consistent."

Fenrer grinned with a nod when they sat down on a bench in the sunlight, and she held onto his warm presence. Soft embers ticked at the edges of her fingers. All I've ever wanted was to experience the stories my mother used to tell me, my last memory of her. She dug her fingers deeper when Fenrer relaxed against her. If what Evyriaz told us, that Fenrer is no more an Anima than I am... the only difference between us is that I was born unaffected by whatever split happened back then... Her gaze trailed out the window while Fenrer dozed against her, where young recruits trained with all the seriousness of their elders, only to break off and be themselves, to chuckle, play games, and have fun in the midst of an endless war. I like this world. I'm scared to die. Adara snuggled against him in the sunlight as it rose over the caldera. But, if I had to choose... I'd rather die fighting for what I believe in, then kneeling to it.