Varon clashed blades with a warrior cloaked in red and white.

  "Batalos," he called out mid-strike, "be careful. They're not from this world."

  "I know!" Batalos roared, unleashing a massive wave of fire.

  "You're drawing attention again," Varon snapped.

  The battle raged. Varon moved like a shadow, swift and precise. Batalos laughed as his flames surged toward the enemy.

  But the red-cloaked figure raised a sword—and blocked the blast without flinching.

  Batalos blinked. "What? They're... on another level?"

  "Behind you!" Varon shouted.

  Batalos turned. "Where—?"

  Too late.

  The enemy was already there.

  "Damn it!"

  Varon's aura flared black. "Symphony of Terror!"

  He lunged, intercepting the strike.

  The second enemy joined the fray, blades clashing in a blur of motion.

  Batalos, panting, ignited once more. "I'll show you fools what real fire looks like!"

  "Control yourself, you bloated idiot," Varon growled.

  Batalos summoned shadowflames, hurling rapid fireballs toward his opponent.

  Varon engaged the second warrior with brutal speed.

  Rose watched from afar, trembling.

  So this is the strength of the invaders...

  This is the power that destroyed Lenovard... that razed Lajira...

  Is Aurik truly safe? Why did Father send me there? Why not to Leona?

  They're too close to Aurik. Can it really protect me?

  Varon struck again, voice cold. "War Sonata!"

  His blade surged with black energy.

  The red-cloaked warrior responded, voice calm. "Dance of Blood."

  A crimson aura erupted.

  The clash triggered a massive explosion.

  Varon staggered back, eyes wide.

  A woman's voice echoed through the smoke.

  He raised his sword. "You? Who are you?"

  The woman stepped forward. "Who am I? Why do you think you have the right to ask?"

  "You blocked my strongest strike," Varon said. "Your technique... it's not of this world."

  She smiled. "We are the Red Mist."

  "We came here seeking power. And victory."

  Varon narrowed his eyes. "Power... victory..."

  She sheathed her blade. "You're a skilled warrior. I couldn't defeat you this time. You deserve praise. My name is Julia. And you?"

  "You're delusional," Varon spat. "You and your pathetic organization. We crushed you in Elpha. We'll crush you here. I'm Varon."

  Julia chuckled. "We let you win, Varon. We gathered enough intel to face you properly here in Silva."

  She turned to her companion. "Take your partner. You might need him."

  Varon touched his head. "Batalos?"

  Batalos groaned. "She's strong..."

  "You lost to another woman," Varon muttered.

  "Shut up! I'm merciful. Unlike you."

  Varon walked ahead. "You're a fat fool. Let's go."

  Batalos dusted off his robe. "Don't provoke Batalos, you wretch!"

  Varon gazed into the distance. "Look. The assassins' refuge. Abandoned after they aided the Luminous Tree tribe. That girl... she's hiding there."

  Batalos grinned. "Want me to burn it?"

  "No, you idiot."

  Varon's eyes narrowed. "Wait... is that the assassins' commander? He's returning?"

  He smirked.

  "Bad luck, girl."

  The Island of Ash - When the Stars Began to Speak

  Sydney unleashed a tidal wave of blue energy, crashing into the gray flames with a roar that shook the shoreline.

  Riz clapped slowly, his voice laced with mockery.

  "Now that... is interesting."

  Sydney fired again—rapid bursts of magic from her weapon.

  Riz dodged with inhuman speed, vanishing, then reappearing directly in front of her.

  "Game over."

  Sydney leapt backward just as Majd and the pirates opened fire, their enchanted weapons blazing.

  Riz vanished again, retreating, then raised his sword to the sky.

  His voice thundered.

  "Lucifer's Dream!"

  From above, a storm of gray fire descended—like rain from a cursed heaven. Each flame carried the screams of tormented souls, falling in waves upon the pirates.

  One by one, they fell.

  "Captain!" Majd cried.

  "Fall back!" Sydney shouted.

  She raised her weapon to the sky.

  "Valina's Tide!"

  A surge of oceanic power erupted upward, and the Blue Dark Star flared violently overhead.

  The gray flames vanished—snuffed out before they could reach the shore.

  Riz reappeared, his body wreathed in fire, and struck Sydney with a devastating blow.

  She blocked it, but the impact sent her flying. Blood spilled from her mouth as she hit the ground.

  "Captain!" Majd screamed.

  The pirates surged forward, weapons drawn.

  "No!" Sydney gasped.

  "Stay back!

  If those flames touch you... you'll die instantly.

  They don't burn flesh.

  They burn the soul."

  Majd froze, eyes wide. The pirates retreated into the makeshift huts, shaken.

  Riz clapped again.

  "Well done.

  Now... shall we end this?"

  —

  The Approach — When the Comet Whispered

  Elsewhere, across the sea...

  Qaws and Lainas sailed swiftly, the wind at their backs. Nawal lay bound, watching silently.

  "I see a small island ahead," Qaws said.

  "Good," Lainas replied.

  "We should stop.

  Maybe someone there can explain what's happening... or what we're about to face."

  Nawal stirred.

  "It's a pirate island."

  "Perfect," Qaws said.

  She studied the ship and its crew—assassins, villagers, soldiers. And those two...

  "They're not pirates.

  Not Leonithran.

  And that sail... it bears the mark of the Green Comet.

  Could they truly be... good?"

  The ship slowed near the island.

  "Men!" Lainas called.

  "Prepare the boat. I'll go ashore with two of you."

  The crew moved quickly, lowering the small vessel.

  Qaws approached.

  "Are you sure?

  Shouldn't I go instead?"

  "No," Lainas said.

  "I need you to guard the ship.

  And... her."

  "Understood.

  Take some fruit and medicine.

  You might need it."

  "Smart thinking."

  "Commander," a crewman called.

  "The boat is ready."

  Lainas climbed down with two men.

  Nawal watched from the deck.

  "They're pirates.

  You can't trust them."

  Qaws didn't look away.

  "We'll see."

  The boat drifted toward the island.

  Qaws turned to the crew.

  "Ready your bows and weapons.

  We may need to cover them."

  "Aye!"

  He leaned against the rail, watching Lainas disappear into the mist.

  Above, the Green Comet pulsed gently. The Blue Dark Star shimmered with strange intensity.

  Qaws narrowed his eyes.

  "That's... odd.

  It's glowing."

  Nawal whispered.

  "That's..."

  "What?"

  She looked away.

  "Nothing."

  The Frozen Gate - When Silence Became a Warning

  Elsewhere, near the crumbling stone walls of the Kingdom of Leona...

  Ledra slowed her steps, eyes narrowing.

  "The closer we get... the stranger it feels.

  I don't know what's happening, but something's wrong."

  Mowj nodded, his gaze fixed on the distant gate.

  "I feel it too.

  There's something... deeply unnatural here."

  They pressed forward, boots crunching against frostbitten earth.

  Ledra suddenly grabbed Mowj's arm.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  "Wait.

  Look at the gate.

  It's empty.

  And the silence... it's unnatural."

  Mowj frowned.

  "It's nightfall.

  But no guards?

  That's not right."

  Then—figures emerged.

  They moved slowly, deliberately... eyes wide, unblinking.

  Mowj stepped back, gripping Ledra's left wrist.

  "Careful.

  They're infected."

  Ledra hesitated.

  "What?

  I don't sense anything strange from them.

  No visible signs."

  Mowj's voice dropped.

  "It's a modified strain.

  A kind of poisoning—complex, layered.

  These aren't like the villagers from my homeland.

  They carry something... else."

  Ledra stepped back, her hand instinctively reaching for her weapon.

  "What do you mean?"

  They ducked behind a broken wall as the night deepened. The last light vanished from the sky, and snow began to fall—soft, slow, and silent.

  Mowj exhaled into his hands, trying to warm his fingers.

  "I need to find the source of the corrupted lake.

  It's the root of all this.

  Uncle Senil warned me.

  So did the Guardian of Silva."

  Ledra readied her bow, her breath visible in the cold.

  "Fine.

  But we should check the city first.

  Someone might help us.

  They might know where the lake is.

  It's been their lifeline for generations."

  Mowj blinked.

  "Wait... they don't rely on wells?"

  Ledra shook her head.

  "No.

  Leona is rich in underground resources.

  Every time they dig, they find rare minerals—used to forge weapons and tools of immense value.

  That's why craftsmanship thrives here."

  Mowj's eyes widened.

  "So the lake is their only water source?

  That's a dangerous vulnerability."

  Ledra nodded, adjusting her grip on the bow.

  "Exactly.

  They dig and dig, hoping to hear the sound of water.

  But it never comes.

  That's why King Rabah—the one with terrifying magical sight—could locate precious metals just by gazing at the earth."

  Mowj whispered.

  "That's... incredible."

  Ledra's voice softened.

  "He was remarkable.

  But their lives were harsh.

  Water was scarce.

  Until Rabah requested aid from Aurik and the Luminous Tree.

  That's when the lake was formed.

  I don't know how they did it...

  But we need to find out."

  Mowj nodded slowly.

  The wind howled.

  Snowflakes drifted down, clinging to their cloaks and hair.

  Then—screams.

  High-pitched. Echoing.

  From behind the walls.

  The Path to Aurik

  Rose gazed at the sky.

  The green comet shimmered above her, pulsing with strange light. Beside it, a dark blue star had emerged—deep, haunting, beautiful.

  Rose whispered, "It's... beautiful."

  But her breath caught.

  She felt Varon's gaze from afar.

  She ducked behind stone.

  "S-screw this... screw this..." she muttered, trembling.

  Varon's voice echoed nearby. "Come, Batalos. We're close to Aurik."

  Batalos grunted. "Aren't you going to kill the girl?"

  "She's already dead," Varon replied. "If she doesn't move wisely."

  They vanished into the horizon.

  Moments later, a new voice rang out.

  "Prepare this site as a fallback zone!" barked a man named Jamah. "We may need it. I'm heading to Aurik!"

  His soldiers shouted in unison, "Ha!"

  Rose remained hidden in a hollow chamber.

  The assassins began fortifying the outpost—gathering herbs, crafting weapons, assembling dust bombs.

  Jamah entered his quarters.

  His voice was cold. "Come out. I can smell you."

  Rose didn't move.

  He walked slowly, found her, and stared.

  "What do you think you're doing here?"

  Rose flinched, scrambled backward.

  "I... I just needed rest. I'm heading to Aurik. That's all."

  Jamah studied her.

  "I leave in an hour. Get out of my sight."

  Rose bolted from the room, only to find the assassins staring.

  One stepped forward. "Who are you? What were you doing in the commander's quarters?"

  Weapons were drawn.

  "No—please! I came for rest. Nothing more!"

  They paused.

  One lowered his blade. "Wait outside."

  Rose nodded and stepped out, heart pounding.

  Jamah exited, silent.

  Rose followed.

  "Are you going to Aurik?" she asked.

  He didn't answer.

  She kept pace.

  Halfway there, he finally spoke.

  "Why Aurik?"

  "It's the only place left," Rose said. "I'm from Lenovard... what's left of it."

  Jamah raised an eyebrow. "Lenovard?"

  "Yes. I fled after a tragedy. My father told me to go to Aurik."

  "So... you had a family."

  "I did," Rose whispered. "My father was the last. I watched him ally with the Black Order..."

  Jamah said nothing.

  "I hate my life," Rose muttered.

  Jamah's voice was cold. "Your father did the right thing."

  Rose's eyes widened. "How do you know that?"

  He didn't answer.

  "You hate your life?" he said. "We've all lived through hell, girl. But none of us wished for death. We lived for those we lost. For those who cried for us. Even when we thought the world hated us."

  He turned to her.

  "You crossed the Valley of Wonders. You survived the Luminous Tree villages. You're still breathing. Why Aurik? Dig your grave and I'll help bury you. But if you want to live—then act like it."

  Rose blinked. "Wait... you saw me?"

  "Everyone saw you," he said. "You think you snuck in?"

  "What?" she gasped.

  "Foolish girl."

  Her face flushed red.

  They reached the city walls.

  "I'm heading to the Kurta tunnels," Jamah said. "You go into the city. Find what you need."

  Rose stopped.

  "I killed my mother... by accident. I was trying to save the village. She told my brother she forgave me before she died. He gave his life for mine. My father... he lost himself for us."

  Tears fell.

  "I don't know what they want from me. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

  Jamah kept walking.

  "Your mother was proud. You know that. Your brother gave everything for you. Your father died smiling."

  Rose froze. "He... died?"

  "Yes," Jamah said. "He died an honorable death. The kind every knight of Lenovard dreams of. Remember that. Be proud."

  Rose wiped her tears and stepped forward.

  "You know what you want now," Jamah said. "I found my parents murdered in our home. My brother died in my arms. My son was killed. And I still walk. I live for them."

  Rose looked at him, voice soft. "Thank you..."

  They reached a sand-covered tunnel.

  "Go in," Jamah said. "It'll take you to the heart of Aurik. I'll collapse it afterward. It's not safe anymore."

  Rose nodded. "Thank you."

  Jamah turned and walked away.

  The Emerald Inn

  Rose emerged from the tunnel into the heart of Aurik—and into chaos.

  The city was alive, but not with celebration. It pulsed with unrest.

  Whispers slithered through the alleys like smoke.

  "The Black Order breached the outer gates..."

  "Two royal guards were found burned alive..."

  "They say the prince has lost his mind..."

  "No—he's awakened. Something ancient stirs in him."

  "They freed the sorcerers from the prison tower. The flames last night weren't natural..."

  Others spoke of a princess—locked away for years, now missing.

  Rose stood in the middle of it all, her cloak torn, her eyes hollow. But no one stared. No one questioned her. In Aurik, strangers were expected. Everyone looked over their shoulder.

  The city itself was a fortress of contradictions.

  Towering spires pierced the sky, their tips glowing faintly with arcane wards. The streets below were cobbled in obsidian and silver, winding like veins through the city's heart. Steam hissed from vents beneath the stone, and the scent of roasted meat mingled with the metallic tang of blood.

  Guards in black and gold armor marched past, their eyes scanning every shadow. Mages in crimson robes whispered incantations as they passed, their fingers twitching with restrained power. Children played beside barricades. Merchants sold enchanted trinkets beside burned-out shops.

  Rose clutched the pouch her father had given her.

  She needed food.

  Water.

  She wandered through the city, past the palace gates—now sealed with glowing runes—and past the charred remains of the prison tower. The air still shimmered with residual magic.

  One child shouted I"m Prince Asser and I'll protect everyone!!

  Ros smiled faintly and whispered: who is Asser is he the one in control?

  Rose: "It's late... and they're still awake. Something terrible happened today."

  She walked until the sun rose, casting a pale gold light over the rooftops.

  Then she saw it.

  A modest building tucked between two towers, its sign swaying gently in the wind.

  The Emerald Inn.

  She stepped inside.

  It was packed.

  Soldiers, townsfolk, and sorcerers filled the tables. Some laughed. Others cried. A few stared into their mugs as if trying to forget what they'd seen.

  The walls were lined with emerald tiles that pulsed faintly, enchanted to repel curses. A fireplace roared in the corner, its flames green and blue. The scent of spiced meat and fresh bread filled the air.

  Rose found an empty seat and collapsed into it.

  A well-dressed elderly man approached, his movements graceful, his eyes sharp.

  "Welcome," he said, voice smooth as silk. "You look like you've walked through hell. What may I bring you?"

  Rose looked up, her voice barely a whisper.

  "Something warm... and something clean."

  The Cracked Walls of Leona - When the Snow Began to Whisper

  Mowj's eyes widened in horror.

  Ledra turned slowly, her gaze fixed on the ruined walls of the kingdom.

  "Dear gods..." she whispered.

  "They're... monsters," Mowj said.

  "We need to move. Now."

  —

  Elsewhere, near the outer ridge of Leona's broken defenses...

  Prince Lucas rode swiftly, flanked by his closest ministers, elite guards, and the assassin Fouad.

  One of the ministers leaned forward, voice tense.

  "Your Highness... what do we do? We're close, but..."

  Prince Lucas's face was grim, his eyes sharp with fury.

  "We'll find a way. I'm certain of it."

  Fouad spoke calmly.

  "Don't worry.

  May I offer a plan?"

  Another minister scoffed.

  "Absolutely not.

  We didn't ask Aurik to send a lone rogue.

  We expected battalions.

  Support from the Arcane Guild!"

  Lucas snapped.

  "Enough."

  The minister fell silent.

  Fouad raised an eyebrow.

  "So?

  Should I turn back?

  Or shall I speak?"

  Lucas nodded.

  "Go on.

  I trust the son of Kaser."

  Fouad's expression shifted—just slightly. A faint smile touched his lips.

  "I suggest we set camp near the walls.

  I'll infiltrate the palace and assess the situation.

  If your advisor's warning is true...

  Charging in now could be a trap."

  Lucas slowed his horse as they neared the kingdom's edge. Snow fell softly around them.

  He dismounted.

  "Very well, Fouad.

  I trust you."

  A minister stepped forward.

  "Your Highness?"

  "No.

  Set camp here.

  Guard it well.

  We'll assess the situation before risking everything."

  Lucas stared at the snow as it landed in his palm. He touched it gently, voice low.

  "Lina...

  I know I failed you.

  I know you're still fighting.

  If you find an old man in the palace...

  He's the High Royal Advisor I left in charge.

  His name is Arif.

  Alongside him, the Supreme Commander of the army.

  If they're still alive..."

  Fouad tightened his cloak and adjusted his light armor.

  "I'll go, Lucas."

  One of the ministers gestured to the guards.

  A voice rang out.

  "You! Show respect to His Highness or I'll take your head!"

  Fouad smirked.

  "Doesn't matter.

  You need me.

  You should know your own condition before pointing weapons at me."

  Lucas stepped between them as the camp began to rise.

  "Leave him.

  I'll deal with it later."

  Fouad sniffed the air.

  "There's a strange smell... foul."

  "You again!" a minister snapped.

  "Not me, fool.

  It's poison.

  Rot.

  My dagger—Mercury—is reacting.

  It pulses... as if rejecting it."

  Lucas clenched his fist, eyes on the ground.

  "It must be the cure.

  The sor—"

  He caught himself.

  "We'll wait for you.

  You'd better return."

  Fouad turned toward the kingdom.

  "We may need reinforcements.

  Prepare a swift messenger.

  Just in case."

  Minister Rafi raised his hand.

  "I'll go, if needed."

  Minister Rokhan stepped forward.

  "I will too."

  Lucas nodded.

  "It's settled.

  If the moment comes... one of you will go."

  They watched as Fouad vanished into the thick fog, heading toward the ancient, crumbling walls of Leona.

  The snow fell heavier.

  The wind howled.

  And the silence... felt like a warning.

  The Whispering Streets - When the Spell Turned Against Them

  On the far side of the ruined kingdom, Mowj and Ledra crept silently toward the outer wall.

  Ledra led the way, bow in hand, her steps precise. Mowj followed close behind, one hand raised, ready to cast.

  Screams echoed through the night—chaotic, scattered. The sound of running feet and distant destruction filled the air.

  Then—a figure stepped into their path.

  Ledra whispered.

  "Damn... we've been spotted."

  Mowj closed his eyes, raised his hand toward the stranger.

  "Night's Calm..."

  The figure sprinted toward them, shrieking—then collapsed mid-run. Blood poured from his mouth, his body convulsing violently.

  Ledra approached slowly, bow still drawn.

  "He's suffering...

  This doesn't feel right, Mowj."

  Mowj knelt beside the body.

  "He's gone."

  Ledra touched the man's neck, checking for a pulse.

  "Yes...

  He couldn't withstand the spell.

  His soul was already corrupted.

  The enchantment backfired."

  Mowj bowed his head, voice low.

  "I meant to amplify it...

  I could've wiped out dozens."

  Ledra placed a hand on his shoulder.

  "You are who you are.

  Don't forget what old Jamah taught you."

  Mowj's expression shifted. He clenched his fists, inhaled deeply.

  "You're right.

  So... how do we find the truth in a city this size?

  I've never walked streets like these."

  The roads were empty.

  Homes—ancient and broken—stood silent. Some were sealed shut. Fog drifted across the cobblestones. The wind sang a cold, mournful tune.

  Mowj pointed.

  "Look at that...

  It's ancient.

  I don't know if it'll survive this storm."

  Then—a shout.

  "Men! We'll capture them all!"

  "Aye!"

  Ledra motioned toward a stone wall, crouching behind it.

  "Look...

  Leona's soldiers.

  It's not too late."

  The soldiers fought fiercely. Some managed to subdue the infected. Others fell. Some struck with precision—non-lethal blows.

  Mowj's eyes widened.

  "They're using blunt weapons.

  They're not killing them.

  There's hope."

  The battle raged. Blood spilled from beneath armor. The infected moved with unnatural strength.

  "Damn...

  They're not normal," Mowj muttered.

  Ledra moved slowly.

  "We'll learn more.

  I haven't seen a city this vast in years.

  Let's find shelter.

  We need rest.

  We need clarity."

  Mowj closed his eyes and placed his hand on the ground. A green aura shimmered around him.

  Ledra hissed.

  "What are you doing?

  They'll sense us!"

  "Trust me."

  The soldiers paused.

  "I feel something...

  A strange power..."

  "My wounds...

  They're gone!"

  The fallen rose. The battle resumed.

  Ledra pointed.

  "Look—he's their commander.

  His armor is different.

  He's directing them.

  If we reach him... maybe we can talk."

  Mowj nodded.

  Ledra pulled a strange parchment from her satchel and pressed it to the lock of a nearby hut. The metal melted silently.

  She slipped inside, dragging Mowj with her, and sealed the door.

  Inside—five figures stood motionless.

  Their eyes... yellow.

  Their gaze... fixed.

  Ledra whispered.

  "Damn..."

  After gathering information from Uncle Mulham, the keeper of the Emerald Inn, I made my decision.

  I would go to the Mercenary Guild.

  I needed coins—thirty-five, to be exact—to obtain a Flak Card, the identity document issued by the Registration Office. Without it, I couldn't join the Mage Guild, couldn't take official missions, couldn't even rent a room legally.

  I dreamed of a cottage. A small home. A place of my own.

  Uncle Mulham said he might help me if I ever earned enough.

  My parents had left me fifteen silver coins—each stamped with the crest of Lenovard. But here, in Aurik, that crest was a relic. A memory. I doubted anyone would accept them.

  My clothes were in tatters. Burned and torn by that bloated lunatic Batalos. My robes hung off me like ash-soaked rags. My bruises still ached.

  But the city... the city was beautiful.

  The air was crisp, the sky clear. Sorcerers walked openly, their cloaks billowing with enchantments. I heard whispers: The High Commander has returned. A woman of terrifying strength. They had tried to replace her with a man described by locals as "a waddling disgrace." But she was back. And she was furious.

  Then I reached a crowd.

  Dense. Silent.

  The street had been cleared halfway. Royal guards lined the path, armor gleaming, spears upright.

  And then—

  Prince Asser. Princess Kasra.

  They walked side by side.

  Asser wore his father's armor, the legendary plates of King Casser. His sword—long, silver, etched with runes—hung at his side.

  Children followed him. Elders bowed. Merchants whispered.

  This was the prince the boy had screamed about. The one whose name spread like wildfire.

  Kasra was radiant. Her hair a deep crimson, like blood under moonlight. Her gaze sharp, her posture regal.

  But Asser...

  He was breathtaking.

  Not the aged warrior I had imagined.

  He was young.

  Twenty-four.

  Hair white as snow. Eyes green as emerald flame. Skin pale, flawless. His physique balanced—neither bulky nor lean. A perfect blend of grace and power.

  I stared.

  And my magic flared.

  My eyes glowed green—bright, uncontrolled.

  A guard shouted, "You! Pervert! Why are you staring like that?!"

  My face turned crimson.

  The guards laughed.

  "Shut up!" I snapped.

  Asser turned.

  He laughed.

  Then continued walking, speaking to citizens, checking shops, listening to the wounded and the weary.

  "He's declared war," one man whispered to me. "Not with words. With action. We stand with him. Until death, miss."

  I nodded, breathless.

  "He's twenty-four?" I asked.

  "And Kasra is twenty," the man replied.

  "Twenty-four!" I shouted.

  People turned.

  "What's wrong with her?"

  I ran, smiling.

  Kasra glanced at me. "Who is that girl? Her clothes are awful."

  Asser didn't respond. He was busy listening to an old man speak of King Casser's final battle, and The Crimson Calamity.

  I ran toward the Mercenary Guild, heart pounding.

  Then I stopped.

  A fountain.

  I saw my reflection.

  I was smiling.

  I had laughed.

  I had spoken to strangers.

  Is this city life? Is this what Father wanted me to see?

  And the prince... he's beautiful.

  I needed that card.

  The royal guard hadn't mocked my clothes. He hadn't asked for my papers. He'd just looked at me—confused, amused.

  I shouted aloud.

  A man nearby muttered, "That fountain's cursed. She's gone mad."

  I laughed.

  And ran.

  Toward the Mercenary Guild.

  Toward my future.