ADARA

—in the verdant fields, no one knew the truth. Underneath those beautiful green tussocks was layered with ages of blood. People laughed. People loved. People danced, sang and played atop this blanket of beauty, where the bones of war returned to the world. A pyre of flowers and grass to grow on for ages more, bathed in the flames of the sun. Those who walked the path made of mud and loss, and the people who walked after and knew it not of horror, but of hope.

Carts rolled past with the wounded after the dead had long since burned on their pyre of flowers and grass. Fenrer communed all through the days and nights, sending the souls to the Otherworld. 'Avae'londu,' the Naveerans muttered. 'Velteraiia,' Hanekans spoke while they hummed their drumming loss.

At least... I think that's what they said.

Storm Wardens patrolled the outskirts of the Summit fields while the Dyrin contingent took all those with the worst injuries onto the train back home to seek quick treatment. Another one of Yuven's plans, which led to all the death as they threw themselves as the Derelicts, all to protect what they loved.

"Send out the worst of the injuries," Yuven ordered the almost too late reinforcements. "Sovereign Hirishi has offered to take them back as fast as possible straight to Azahama. Everyone else will have to make do while we take care of the rest of the dead."

Days passed, and some never made it through the night before the train left them behind.

"Where is Fenrer?" Yuven asked one Storm Warden while Adara hung back.

"Last I saw him he was performing another ritual for any wayward spirits by himself," the Storm Warden said with a frown. "He's been doing it the whole time, Captain. I don't think he's stopped since the attack."

I believe.

Adara kept her head low as the Storm Warden smacked their hand against the wyvern insignia with a short bow to Yuven before racing past her. "Was this really the only way?" Unable to find her voice in a river of the bloodstained plains, she bit on her tongue and wished for a different tale, and a lighter note to end on. "Was this the only option?"

Yuven's hard violet gaze appraised her, and he twisted on his heel. He opened his mouth, but he stopped when another cart rocked past for the next train. Those with minor injuries, but the loss molded their expressions into visages of despair. Adara brought a hand up to her heart when a child sniffled against their mother's coat, their other small hand wrapped around a knitted bird.

"I want Dad... where is he?"

Tears left trails on the smudged dirt on the woman's face as she held her child in a strong, unwavering grip. The cart hit a small mud hole, and the child whined when the doll hit the ground. "Wait! My bird!" Their arms waved out, but their mother steadied them with a soft hush. "I can't leave it behind!" Their body quaked with sobs as their mother shut her eyes tight and stifled her own.

Adara made to move, but Yuven beat her first.

He stepped out onto the muddy path as the cart slowed. He walked and knelt down as he went, his fingers catching the mud-splattered stuffy. Everyone within the small carriage turned their heads to him and the cart came to a stop. Wind hushed through the trees as he hesitated at the edge, and then held the stuffy out to the child with an unreadable expression on his face.

The child reached out to hug the bird, dirt and all. "Thank you, Mr. Warden," they whispered with a sniff, and then tucked back into their mother, keeping the bird locked between them.

Yuven said nothing to the gratitude as he placed both hands on the back of the cart, and ice went through the mud to slide it out of the grips of entrapment. It rolled out with ease, with the driver giving him their own thankful wave. He tilted his head forward with a soft sigh. "Sorlo d'lo, vuro'mal." Back to the cart, he moved with an ancient sway and never answered her question. Forced to follow, Adara fell behind as his shoulders sagged and he dragged himself through the mud once scattered with bodies.

"Yuven?"

"If you expect an answer, you are going to wait a long time," he whispered in his icy dialect. "Not everyone has that luxury of waiting. Find an answer for yourself, Adara. I can't give you one." He stomped forward, as if the weight rolled off his shoulders onto his back. "Now, come on. I'd also rather not add my Oathbound to the pile because he thinks he needs to prove a point." Yuven stopped, and glared at her. "Whatever you two talked about made him think he could do this alone."

"We didn't talk about anything," Adara argued, again and again for the fourth time of Yuven needling her for information. "I was upset. I was upset having to watch all those people suffer when I could do something about it."

"He gave you his hand, right?"

"...Yes?"

Yuven drew his hand up to his nose with a shake of his head. "Fenrer, fehta u'lo..."

"What?"

Ignored, Adara jumped when Yuven kept on his track back to the Storm Warden post. Heaviness laced through the air as the Storm Wardens nursed their wounds through the continuance of their duty. Some with bandaged arms, holding their crescent blades close to their sides. Others, on the ground, but watchful over the undergrowth. Yuven followed one woman's point into the clearing, where none of the dead rested.

Fenrer leaned against a stout tree, the strange staff across his lap as he slept in the field. Yuven shook his head again and headed up to him. "Fenrer? Molvisaliz?" He snapped his fingers, but his hand dropped back to his side when Fenrer didn't stir. "Burnt out."

"Is that bad?"

"If you have to ask, then yes." Yuven scoffed then glared at Fenrer. "I hope it was worth it, Molvi."

Fenrer's slightly parted lips closed as he tilted his head the other way with a soft hum. "Always."

Moonlight tore through the clouds to scatter its gentle touch of darkness across the plains and sent their golden colours up into the sky of stars. Yuven straightened himself out into one of the leashes of the night's embrace, where his beaded pupils tightened and his pointed ears flicked against his feathers. "Good, then I will have no qualms in making sure you stick to a schedule." Adara blinked when Yuven smiled, something almost young to the haunted mask. "You will follow it to my letter."

Fenrer opened the spiraling greens into the moonlight tearing through the fields of battle. "That's still not how it works..." He leaned against the tree again, and his breathing softened as he tucked his knees against his chest. "I may need help standing up."

Adara held her hand out, and tried to echo the smile he gave her in his belief.

He drew in a soft breath as he looked up at her, where her shadow flared with the moon above her head, then mirrored her as he reached out and put his faith in her grip. I'll make sure it means something. Adara hauled him to his feet, and frowned when he stumbled into Yuven's shoulder with a weary huff.

"It's our turn to go back to Fallholt," Yuven said as Adara reached forward to help Fenrer. "Come. You've been up at dawn and dusk multiple times." He shifted when Fenrer leaned deeper into him, eyes closing. "Might I remind you I don't have the strength to drag you?" he complained, but an unsure whisper molded it into being. "Do try to stay at least partly conscious until we're on the train."

Fenrer grinned sideways. "I shall try my best."

"What about the Summit?" Adara asked as she helped Yuven haul Fenrer through the fields.

"The reinforcements will have to clean it up," Fenrer mumbled.

"I've noticed the Naveeran contingent is nowhere to be seen," Yuven grunted. "Quick to abscond, weren't they? Compared to how long it took for King Reyn to leave — of which, I was starting to wonder if he ever would leave." He sniffed. "I also noticed the lack of a certain Keeper once he caused his trouble." He shifted with Fenrer's arm when he leaned forward. "No, Fenrer. I said stay awake."

Storm Wardens loaded the injured onto the train which came for them. Some of the reinforcements guided the way through the compartments, while Yuven stopped to speak with an armored Warden, who held their crescent blade close to their side.

"How was the gorge during the horde attack?" he hissed to them. "Was there any activity?"

"It was quiet, Traye," they said, and then sent a thumb back to the train. "Hop on. Captain Ineha will want the full report. The outpost can handle the rest of this and keep track of the wards."

Yuven nodded and dragged Fenrer onto the train, and Adara climbed into the carriage behind them. Led deeper along the snaking carriages, Yuven pushed open a door with a hush of ice-borne wind, and tossed Fenrer onto the bed with a huff. Adara sank into the bench across from the bed, holding her cheeks which carried the guilt of her magick. "Is he going to be alright?"

Yuven brushed out his cuffs and protective lower leathers before sitting down on the other end of the bench. "He will be fine. It takes a great deal of stamina and magick to do what he did."

So many things I still don't understand about this world. So many things my storybooks never went into detail about... Fingers stretched out, where the last embers of her magick faded away back into the wind, frustration gripped at her throat when it never answered again. "I thought my magick was powerful, that I could use it to help people instead of what it was used for before." Nails dug into her palm, she bit down on her tongue and tried to breathe out her growing rage. "Are you going to tell me there was never an answer to that either?"

"I said the Storm Wardens could teach you. That is what they will do — what we will do," Yuven pointed out. "You have seen what happens, so learn something from it, Sazaka." He folded his arms against his chest with a puff of breath. "Remember; it is the conclave you're trying to convince, but all I see is a barely trained magickae who can't even convince herself." He studied her. "You want to be taught, then listen. You want to learn, then open your mind. Magick is limitless, but also limited in the hand of an individual, who limits themselves."

"You're so much better?" Adara whispered.

Yuven rested his cheek on his knuckle. "I don't think I'm better, I just use my head." He raised a finger, where a white ember flickered to life, and the lights above her head came to life. "If you separate your magick from yourself, you severely do it a disservice, because you are one in the same. It is not something you can be rid of." He nodded at Fenrer, who slept. "Take him, for example — he was trying to show you something. Do you know what that was?"

"He said he believed..." Adara murmured.

He believed in the enduring hope.

"Fenrer believes in a lot of things," Yuven said, "but most of all, Fenrer is a talented magickae, let alone a powerful Aurus. Don't tell him I said that." Adara raised an eyebrow, but he continued. "This whole time, we've been trying to teach you, show you, but as I told you before — magick is innate. Magick is something that just clicks for most. Oh yes, we have small schools of magick... but most of it is a guide to testing what you're capable of." He raised his hands then rested them behind his head before folding his leg over the other. "Not my fault you have air between your ears."

Adara jolted. "It's not like you've approached it in a way I can understand. You said you were going to teach me. Teach me. Aren't you supposedly powerful? Or was that a lie?"

"I am a Flare, I am powerful, but latent talent only gets one so far," Yuven said with a wry grin. "If you depend on your latent talent, you're going to end up bedridden with barely any energy to get up let alone use magick." He whisked the ember away with ease. "I can't teach someone who has their head in the ground and bemoaning why they can't get it out."

"How helpful." Adara folded her arms.

"I know." Yuven sniffed. "We are going to have plenty of time over the course of our journey, Adara Sazaka. If you want me to teach you, get your head out of the ground so you can hear what I'm saying."

"What do you mean?"

"We still have to go to Euros, and to do that, we must head to Haneka," Yuven explained. "Straight to Sivaport harbor, where we'll take a boat to the island, and you can feel free to explode in peace, if that is your wont." He rolled his neck and leaned further away from her. "Trust, the magick which embeds itself in the island can take your power. You will be safe there."

Adara grasped her crimson shawl. "Will Garren be there?"

Yuven blinked. "If he didn't come across hordes on his journey, every Storm Warden makes their way home."

His words did nothing to assure the worry growing around her heart, but she switched back to Fenrer, who placed his belief in her hands, and shouldered her despair without expectation.

Only with a hopeful smile and an outstretched hand.