Yoshua sat quietly in the corner of the modest cottage, his eyes drifting over the peaceful landscape outside. The small village of Buramiya spread out before him, nestled among rolling hills lush with deep green. Fields of vibrant grass met the neat rows of thatched roofs, all bathed in the soft light of early morning. It was a serene sight, but for Yoshua, it was also a fragile illusion. Yoshua could not shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at him. The airships had stopped pursuing them at the edge of the farm, but why? It didn't sit right. It felt like the calm before a storm, the kind of silence that promised something worse was still to come.

A fire crackled in the hearth, casting soft light across the room. Joher's wife, Sumaya, moved with practiced ease, stirring something in a large kettle hanging above the flames. The steam rose in delicate wisps, filling the small cottage with the earthy aroma of herbs and spices. Her dark eyes, full of quiet strength, flicked over to Yoshua as she worked. Long, wavy dark hair cascaded down her back, loosely covered by a flowing fabric that caught the firelight. Her tan skin glowed warmly in the flickering light, and she wore a beautiful dress, rich in color and delicate in design. The intricate patterns and flowing fabric reminded Yoshua of the dresses his mother used to wear, when he was as small boy.

The peaceful scene around him reminded him of his cottage and Aiyana. His heart sank at the thought. His hand instinctively reached for his pocket, where her turquoise locket still lay. He dared not look at it—seeing it was too painful. Their small stone cottage outside of Cupta, nestled among towering evergreens and craggy peaks, had been their sanctuary. The crackling fire, the scent of herbs, the quiet moments with Kaya and Aiyana—he could almost hear their laugh echoing through the rooms.

He shook off the memories and took a sip of black tea, recalling that something strange had happened in the forest yesterday. Esa flew, his will lifting Mazi, Joher, Kaya, and Yoshua through the air with effortless precision, as if they were weightless, suspended by nothing more than his focus and strength. The trees blurred around them, the ground just a few feet below, keeping them safely nestled within the foliage of the forest. It felt as though reality itself had bent to his will, the very air around them shifting in response to his command.

But suddenly, Esa faltered. His strength wavered, and with an audible thud, he collapsed to the ground, exhaustion finally catching up with him. As he fell, his concentration broke, and his companions dropped with a dull thud, but they were low enough that the fall caused them no harm.

They scrambled to their feet quickly, rushing to Esa's side.

"I'd like to walk the rest of the way, if that's alright with everyone?" Esa said, shaking. He refused Yoshua's help, pushing himself up on his own, but the exhaustion and weariness in his movements were unmistakable. His body trembled slightly as he stood, trying to maintain his composure.

Esa approached Mazi, who was stirring slightly but still deep in sleep. Before Esa could reach him, Yoshua stepped in, quietly. "I've got him the rest of the way," he said, offering Esa a reassuring nod. Without waiting for a response, Yoshua gently lifted Mazi, his strength steady as he prepared to carry him the remaining distance.

"We're not far from my home. Come," Joher said, leading the way.

The others, sensing Esa's discomfort, silently agreed, following along without protest.

The pain in his chest brought Yoshua back to the present, his thoughts racing. The wound, though only skin deep, throbbed persistently, a sharp reminder of his encounter with the female scaled one. How many more of those things are still alive? He wondered. He wanted to speak with Ibris, but he was still upset over his recent decisions and their consequences. Despite this, Yoshua hoped that Ibris had safely made it back to the Clinic with Geshar—and to baby Kiran. He knew how Ibris felt about his friends—Ibris would die for them.

Yoshua let out a sigh and winced at the pain as his thoughts spiraled back to yesterday evening. Upon their arrival at the cottage, Joher had immediately noticed Yoshua's bleeding wound and insisted on treating it with a special herbal ointment he had concocted for halfbreeds. He bandaged it carefully around Yoshua's torso before offering him a white tunic—likely the largest one the doctor had. The fit was snug against Yoshua's built frame, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

Most of them had managed to sleep overnight, though Yoshua had gotten only a few hours of rest. Yoshua caught glimpses through the window as Esa snuck out several times in the middle of the night, lifting himself into the air for a few minutes only to fall back down with exhaustion. It was clear the strain was taking its toll on him and his abilities. Yoshua knew they had to call Ibris, but he wanted to wait just a bit longer, at least until his cup of tea was finished.

Joher, his parents, and wife had woken up before dawn to pray together, facing their homeland of Amuri. Yoshua recognized the customs and language of the Apiruan family. He recalled having heard his own mother and the villagers practicing the same prayers when he was a young boy. The rhythm of their words, the simplicity of their movements, the way they dressed—it was all so familiar. A fleeting flashback to a life he no longer fully remembered.

Yoshua pushed aside the thought of his childhood and noticed that, in the corner, everyone was finally awake. Esa, his lack of sleep evident, worked with practiced hands, tending to Mazi's wound. Esa spoke in low, measured tones.

"Looks like you're going to make a full recovery," Esa said quietly, his auburn hair unkempt and falling across his hardened face. He pushed a long strand of hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear, revealing a light beard that had not been there when Yoshua had first met him.

Mazi grimaced at each careful movement, his face slightly tightening with discomfort. "Where is Ibris?" Mazi asked.

Yoshua noticed that Esa kept fidgeting with the emerald locket around his neck, his fingers absently tracing its smooth surface, as if it was the only thing anchoring him in that moment.

"Don't you ever say that name to me again," Esa finally replied, coldly. "He's dead to me. If I ever see him again, I might make sure of it."

Mazi flinched at the venom in Esa's voice. Yoshua, watching from across the room, shook his head.

Mazi changed the subject, going on to speak of "The Khoraz... the scaled ones..." His words faltered, trailing off into fragmented thoughts about the floating islands and thugs at a place called BaoByte. Yoshua's sharp wolf ears caught the broken phrases, but he chose not to pursue them.  He needed to figure out what to do next, but he was too weary.

Yoshua's gaze drifted to Kaya. Sumaya had given her a new dress, a stark contrast to the torn one she had been wearing before. Kaya looked happy and safe, sitting between Esa and Mazi, her eyes fixed on the two young men with a quiet intensity. Her eyes darted between them, absorbing their every word and movement. She did not speak, but Yoshua could tell she was listening, as always, her sharp wolf spirit absorbing the information quickly. Yoshua also noticed that, while Esa and Mazi spoke, both were keenly aware of his niece watching and listening intently. He scoffed. "Youth," he said under his breathe, shaking his head.

The wound on Kaya's forehead had been mended by Joher, and Yoshua could not help but feel grateful to have found a halfbreed healer, even under such dire circumstances. But despite the relief, a heavy thought lingered in his mind. He was not sure if anyone could heal the deeper wounds on Kaya's mind and heart, given the horrors Mazi and her had faced.

Though Yoshua did not particularly love that his niece Kaya had grown so close to Esa and Mazi, a part of him could not help but feel a reluctant sense of relief. If she was going to trust anyone, it was these two. Esa, with his raw determination and unshakable courage and gift, and Mazi, with his calm, steady demeanor and humor. They were more than capable, and Yoshua trusted them with his life—and Kaya's.

Yoshua then noticed Joher pacing near the door, his gaze flicking between his family, his new friends, and the horizon beyond the cottage window, where the first light of dawn was creeping over the darkened sky. His worry was palpable.

When they arrived last night, he had insisted his family leave immediately, trembling with urgency, but no one seemed ready to listen—especially Sumaya. Joher's elderly parents, Lamuk and Beruna, were even less inclined to go.

Sumaya hesitated, her brow furrowed with doubt. "It's late. You've been through a terrible thing...Your parents need rest—they're old. So do your friends—they've traveled far, and one of them is injured," she said, glancing at the unconscious Mazi. "And the village... look around, Joher. Everything is calm. We must trust in Elah."

She had then proceeded to warmly welcome the four strangers into her modest home and served them a large homemade dinner, for which Yoshua was immensely grateful.

Over dinner, Joher recounted his ordeal: how he had been captured by a halfbreed during work hours and taken to a large farmhouse on the edge of the village. The farmhouse, Joher explained, was heavily guarded by "scaled demons," to which his wife gasped loudly, his mother nearly fainted, and his father asked him to watch his language around his mother. A shudder passed through Joher as he continued, his mind clearly struggling to process the horror of it all. "How long have they been hiding right under our noses?" Joher wondered aloud, incredulous. "How long have the demons been living in our village?"

Another sharp pang of pain in Yoshua's chest brought him back to the present. Joher was again making a case that his family prepare to leave the village immediately.

Lamuk, his father, sat in the corner by the fire, his frail hands resting on his cane, his body heavy with illness. His full beard, was a soft grey, and his features were weathered by the years. Beruna, his mother, hovered near the table, her thin frame bent with age. Her grey hair, loosely covered by a fabric shawl much like Sumaya's, framed her face, and though her body had grown frail, her sharp eyes still held the wisdom of a lifetime. They had lived in this village for decades. They had survived wars, storms, and countless other hardships. They had no interest in leaving.

Wincing from the pain again, Yoshua walked towards them. "Joher is right," Yoshua insisted. "We don't have much time. The Khoraz, the scaled ones, or those airships—whoever they are—they will come for us. All of us. They've seen Joher's face, they'll come for him,  and they'll come for you."

Sumaya's eyes met his, her eyes filled with fear. "We must trust in Elah," she kept repeating. She took a deep breath, her resolve faltering as tears began to fall. "But where will we go? This place... this village... it's all we have. Our home. We can't just abandon it."

Yoshua immediately thought of Aiyana and how he had planned to leave their cottage abruptly, only to lose everything. He quickly shook the thought away.

"Where will we go?" Sumaya asked, again, this time with deep despair.

"I am going to arrange transports to Bahyan," Joher said, nodding eagerly. "Sumaya, we've spent too many hours here. Please, prepare your things. We must leave now."

"No," Yoshua reluctantly interrupted them. "Let me arrange secure transports that can't be tracked." He glanced between the two of them.

"Oh, I didn't know that was possible," Joher said, quietly, considering the ramifications.

"You should come to the Underworld with us. I'll help you sort everything out. I have friends," Yoshua added, thinking of Ibris, his jaw tightening, "who will help you."

Sumaya turned sharply, her face darkening. "I will not go to that city of sin," she said, with contempt.

"Alright, what about Monika City? Your cousin lives there, right?" Joher pleaded.

"Fine!" Sumaya exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. Still in tears, she stormed off toward their bedroom.

Joher nodded to Yoshua, who took it as confirmation. "I'll arrange the transports," he whispered, giving a brief nod of his head to Joher, who followed his wife.

Yoshua shook his head, smiling briefly at the couple's spat. He then slowly walked over and sat down next to Esa, Mazi, and Kaya on the floor. They were having a similar conversation.

Mazi leaned forward and whispered intently. "Esa, those Khoraz monsters have been hunting us all these years. We need to leave now." He ran his hand through his messy, shoulder-length curly hair, which had tried to retie in a tangled mess behind his head. 

"And we need to get this family out of here, too," Kaya added, finally speaking up. She nodding her head towards Joher's elderly parents sitting near the fire.

Yoshua noticed the darkness that came over his niece as she fell silent again—a darkness he had never seen before.

"If we can get everyone on a transport, I can get it to Syris in a few hours," Esa said, confidently. 

"Esa, I don't know about that. You look tired," Kaya said, gently, placing a hand on his forearm. "Let's just ride."

Mazi, noticing her hand on Esa's arm, flinched uncomfortably. "Yeah, let's not push it, Esa." He said, wearily glancing between the two of them.

"I rested and ate,"  He said with a clear readiness in his posture. "I can handle it."

"You don't have to handle everything, Esa," Kaya said, boldly moving forward and kissing him on the cheek.

Yoshua glanced at Mazi, whose jaw had dropped in disbelief.

Esa blushed, slowly nodding his head in agreement.

"As far as I can tell," Yoshua finally added, clearing his throat, "there are no abnormal movements in the village right now. I'm going to ensure all transports are secure from trackers upon arrival."

"Oh, good, you've already ordered transports," Esa added.

"Yes, but we're not going to Syris, we're going to the Underworld. And this family is going to Monika City," Yoshua said, firmly. He pulled out his tablet and sent a reluctant message to Ibris, who immediately responded with one word: Done.

Esa turned away, his expression hardening at Yoshua's actions. His fingers tightened around the emerald locket at his neck again, almost protectively, as if the small piece of jewelry could shield him from the weight of his emotions.

Yoshua considered what he might say to ease the tension, but before he could find the words, Esa stood up and moved to stand by Lamuk.

Yoshua shook his head in disappointment.

"Uncle Yoshua," Kaya said, quietly, breaking the tension, "Joher told me about the Apiruan people. He said that Mazi and I both had Apiruan names. Is that what pa and you are?"

Mazi's eyebrows raised at the mention of the word Apiruan. "Well, my family was definitely Apiruan. Joher is accurate."

"Are they from Amuu-ri?" Kaya asked, recalling Joher's words.

"No, my family was from a village in Kemp," Mazi replied, stroking his full, dark beard thoughtfully. "I think my great-great-grandparents were from Amuri. My grandfather spoke about making a pilgrimage to Amuri once, before I was born."

Kaya looked to Yoshua, who was listening intently, his lips pursed in thought. But he said nothing. His thoughts raced, hesitating over how much of his painful past he was willing to share with his niece. He had spent so many years burying it deep inside, unwilling to confront the memories.

"Uncle?" Kaya asked, with sadness and a desperate need to know more. "Is that where Pa and you come from?" She asked, again. "How are you halfbreed brothers? How come I'm a part-breed when there are nearly no others?"

"Oh, Kaya," Yoshua held his niece's hand for a moment, his fingers trembling slightly as he shifted uncomfortably. The weight of his past seemed to press on him, making it hard to find the right words.

"Dariq and I... we..." His gaze faltered, unsure where to begin. "I do not know how we are... halfbreeds... All our mother told us was that we were created, as if by Elah, to be half wolves. Dariq remembers that mother spent time with a dark-skinned woman from far away when she became pregnant with me. All she told him was that the woman was a scientist and she had given our mother a 'medical miracle' of making a brother." He paused, swallowing hard, as if the words were difficult to summon.

All the while, his thoughts seemed to drift back to those distant memories. "What I do remember is how our entire family was treated poorly when we lived in Amuri. My mother, she was called names—people would whisper and sneer because she had children out of wedlock. That wasn't very normal in Amuri, you see. And Dariq..." He trailed off for a moment. "Dariq was beaten up by the local kids often. Isolated. And mother... neither could find work because of us, being half-wolf—because of how we looked... the way we were."

Yoshua's expression darkened, his mind replaying the harshness of those years. "When she died, I was just a small boy. A disease of the kidneys, they said. We tried to save her, we did. But in the end, she passed. And Dariq... Dariq decided he wanted a different life. A real one, he said, in Atlantis." His eyes grew distant as he continued. "He told me Atlantis was where so many halfbreeds lived. He said we could start over there, build a new life, away from it all."

A bitter smile tugged at his lips, but it quickly faded. "And let me tell you, when we finally got to Atlantis, when we saw how terribly halfbreeds were treated there... well, it wasn't much better, worse in many ways really." Yoshua wiped a tear from his cheek, a silent sorrow weighing down his words.

"I don't know that either of us would have made the life we did in Altantis, without your mother Aiyana, and without the Kahkati people," Yoshua said, softening with the memory. "Then, when the Nori Civil War started, Dariq enlisted in the new King's army immediately. He believed we were going to free all halfbreeds. I followed him. I believed in my brother." Yoshua took a deep breath. "That's how I met Ibris and Geshar... and Mikael."

"Who's Mikael?" Kaya asked, tilting her head. Yoshua knew she had never heard of him.

"Oh. He..." Yoshua said, pursing his lips and averting his gaze. "He was one of our... friends. He died the same day Dariq did." Yoshua had tears streaming down his face. He cleared his throat, memories of his life in the military and the fond moments he had shared with his friends flashing before him.

Kaya also had tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry you had to relive that," she whispered, her voice breaking. She reached out and took his hand.

Mazi had tears in his eyes too.  A knot formed in Yoshua's chest—he knew that Mazi's story was probably more similar to his than either of them wanted to admit.

"What's done is done," Yoshua said, standing up.

Just then, Joher and Sumaya emerged from their bedroom. Joher announced that two self-driving transports were waiting outside. Sumaya's eyes were red from crying, but she had collected their things into bags and walked straight out the door. Esa and Joher helped his elderly parents into a transport, where Sumaya joined them. The family packed into the first transport, programmed for Monika City, while the second, destined for the Underworld, awaited. Kaya helped Mazi, his arm around her shoulder, as they settled into the second vehicle.

Inside the house, Esa lingered, his hands around his emerald amulet. Yoshua waited by the door.

"Esa, are you coming?" Yoshua asked, calmly. "We need to go, now."

Esa nodded silently and followed Yoshua to the second transport.

The self-driving transports rumbled down the dirt roads, the sun now fully risen, casting a warm glow over the quiet countryside. The peaceful scene outside was in sharp contrast to the tension inside the vehicles. The first transport, carrying Joher and his family, led the way, while the second followed closely behind.

As they left the village behind, the road opened up into rolling fields, the morning light filtering through the trees and over the hills. But the calm was short-lived.

Yoshua's senses were on high alert as the unmistakable rumble of airship engines filled the air. He looked up and saw them—the seven, small military-grade airships, darting toward them from the horizon. They were armed. Deadly. 

"Hold on!" Yoshua shouted. He reached into the hidden compartment in the transport and pulled out several large laser guns Ibris had stashed for them. He passed one to Mazi and the other to Esa. "Get ready!"

Kaya, her eyes already fixed on the incoming threat, did not wait for a word. "Give me one," she demanded, confidently.

For a moment, Yoshua hesitated, then he saw something in her he recognized—he saw his brother, he saw Dariq's fierceness, a quiet strength. She was ready. Yoshua threw her a third gun, his wolf eyes meeting hers.

The first airship opened fire, its lasers slashing through the air and tearing into the ground beside them. The transports A.I. swerved the vehicles violently to avoid the incoming shots. Mazi fired first, but his aim was off—his shot missed the mark. Esa shot out of the back window of the second transport, struggling to stay level in the air, pushing himself into the sky.

Yoshua's heart clenched. Esa was moving sluggishly, too sluggishly. He could see the strain in his posture, the fatigue weighing him down. How much longer can he keep this up?

Kaya focused, a sharp contrast to the chaos surrounding them. She gripped her gun firmly, her eyes narrowing as she zeroed in on one of the airships. She squeezed the trigger, sending a precise beam of light toward the closest ship. The shot hit its engine, and the airship exploded in a burst of flame and debris, veering off course and retreating into the sky.

Yoshua's mouth went dry. She's incredible. His niece was a natural—her aim deadly, her composure unshakable. Without a second thought, he fired, his shot cutting through the air with unerring precision. The airships swerved violently. One of Yoshua's shots slammed into the cockpit, and the pilot inside crumpled, lifeless. But the airship didn't drop. It wavered, teetering on the edge of control, then suddenly veered sideways—slamming into the airship next to it. In an instant, both ships erupted in a fiery blaze, a shockwave rippling through the sky as they disintegrated in a shower of burning debris.

Yoshua watched in stunned silence as Esa pushed himself harder, his body straining with each movement, but his determination unwavering. With a burst of speed, he dove toward another airship, a blur against the rising sun.

In an instant, Esa's hand shot out, and the cockpit of the airship was torn open. With a single motion, he yanked the pilots from their seats, suspending them mid-air with his telekinetic grip. The ship's metal groaned as Esa's other hand crumpled it, folding the wreckage as if it were paper.

Yoshua's stomach turned as Esa slammed the pilots violently into the earth, their bodies crumpling under the force. The impact was brutal. Yoshua recoiled, horrified. The power and cruelty in Esa's actions were unlike anything he'd seen before. This wasn't the same person he knew.

Mazi, still struggling to steady himself, reached for his gun again. His hands trembled. He fired. His shot went wide.

"I got you," Kaya said without missing a beat, snatching the gun from Mazi's hands. "Give it to me," she commanded, her hair whipping wildly in the wind. Without waiting for his response, she half-crawled out of the transport, her body suspended halfway as she took careful aim and fired.

One shot. Two shots. Each one found its mark on another ship. The fifth airship above them buckled, smoke trailing from its hull as it faltered and began to spiral downward.

But then, the unthinkable happened.

A loud crack echoed through the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of a tire popping. Yoshua's stomach dropped. No. No, no, no.

The tire of Joher's transport exploded in a burst of flame, and the vehicle began to swerve wildly, out of control. Joher screamed, in panic. "My family! Please!"

Before Yoshua could react, Esa launched himself toward the Joher's transport. With a grimace, his hand shot out, seizing Joher's arm as he reached desperately for Sumaya—but his grasp missed. He yanked Joher from the wreckage, hauling him upward into the sky.

But just as Esa got a firm hold on Joher, a second shot rang out—this one hitting Joher's transport head-on. The vehicle was torn apart in an instant, an explosion that rattled the air around them, and debris scattered across the road.

"Esa!" Mazi yelled, as the explosion consumed the vehicle.

Yoshua's blood ran cold. He could feel the heat of the blast even inside the transport. He slammed his fist against the dashboard in frustration, but there was no time for mourning. He had to act.

"Esa!" Yoshua shouted, with urgency. "Get Joher into the transport!"

Esa did not hesitate. With sheer strength, he propelled Joher toward the second transport. As Joher closed in, Yoshua reached for him, pulling him inside through the window. Mazi, now in full control of the transport, having deactivated self-driving mode, sped up and swerved forward with powerful, precise movements.

But the airships were not finished. Another round of fire came at them, and Yoshua saw the two remaining airships closing in for another attack. Esa, his strength beginning to fail him, flew upward, swerving and diving, dodging incoming lasers. His movements were becoming sloppy—he was exhausted.

Kaya continued to shoot, her aim steady, but the two remaining airship pilots had learned to swerve out of her line of fire, dodging with precision. The tension in the air thickened, and each shot that missed seemed to fuel their relentless pursuit. Esa, from above, continued to fire back, his shots ringing out like thunder, while Yoshua took his own shots, aiming for weak points on the pursuers' hulls. The sound of blaster fire echoed, but the enemy airships were adapting quickly, their evasive maneuvers becoming more unpredictable.

Yoshua's heart sank as he watched Esa. He could see his friend struggling to stay in the air. He's not going to make it.

Another laser streaked across the sky, and in a split second, the airship fired a direct hit. Esa's gun flew out of his hand, the force of the blast knocking it from his grip. His body twisted violently in the air before he crashed to the ground, disappearing into the smoke below.

"Esa!" Kaya cried, in panic.

Mazi's concentration broke for a moment as he glanced back, his eyes tracking the pursuing airships. But with a sharp breath, he refocused, intently. He slammed the throttle forward, pushing the transport as fast as it would go, the engines roaring in protest as they strained against the speed. Every instinct screamed at him to keep ahead, to outrun the danger closing in.

Yoshua's pulse hammered in his ears. His eyes searched frantically, scanning the sky, but there was no sign of Esa's fall. No sign of life. His heart skipped, a cold knot tightening in his chest. He gritted his teeth, fury rising within him. But then, there was something else—a strange, unsettling silence. No sign of the ships.

"Sumaya!" Joher was crying, his body trembling. "We have to go back for my family!"

Mazi gripped the steering controls, his hands steady now, despite the chaos around them. "No, we need to keep moving." He said, sharply.

Kaya cried next to him, her sobs uncontrollable.  "Esa..."

Yoshua turned his eyes back to the horizon, his jaw clenched again. "We're not stopping until we reach the Underworld. We're not stopping." His voice was firm, though a cold realization settled in his chest. The ships would not follow them now. 

They had what they wanted—Esa.