...What do you expect we will find in there?

  Nothing. Acrypa is dead and empty; how do you think it got its nickname?

  Mm... But wouldn't it be incredible if there could be something more?

  Oh? What are you proposing?

  You know the latent power of our comet—you know that it, too, is born of the same power as the Star.

  Ah... Then, have your way with it. It's not a bad place to begin the unravelling of this plane, not a bad nest for the cosmic chaos we'll unfurl across this plane...

  Alana woke with a jolt to the voices, pressed her halberd shaft hard into her hand. Her breath was trantic. Her heart was pounding.

  But looking around and seeing nothing, she quickly released the weapon. Her swift reaction in looking to it for support sent a shiver down her spine, and her heart pounded harder still. She hopped up quickly and felt the sweat across her body, the way her lightweight shirt clung to her back. She was quickly on her way, hobbling toward the nearby river beneath the twisted, gnarled black trees of Acrypa's border.

  Once Alana had splashed some water into her face, she felt reassured. The water brought with it a calm that she was grateful for, and she took off her sweat-slick shirt, began to scoop up the soothing liquid and pour it over her bare torso, obscured only by the dimness of what little moonlight there was.

  With a deep breath, she finished her rinse, and lay staring at the stars. "Tir... am I doing right?" Her eyes quickly became wet. "What I did, was it right? When I have to do it again...?"

  The thought of doing it again, of how she'd like to do it again, made her nauseous. The holy scripture forbade violence, and the whole world within Alaron had come to agree with that sentiment. But even so, the urge within her, that gnawing... It was far too great.

  "Nobody is in Acrypa anyway... We'll be safe. Nobody will have to die. It's me, Soren... Tykas."

  She did feel bad for her treatment of the boy, younger than her by a few years, but it wasn't something she could easily take back. She only hurt him because she was scared of losing him—without Tykas, if he'd wandered off or worse, she'd be all alone again. It would be just like losing Tir again. She couldn't afford it.

  I'll do something nice for him, first chance I get. I'll come up with something...

  There was a flash up in the sky where her gaze was resting, over the blackened, leafless treetops.

  ...Lightning?

  Two more flashes erupted silently in the night sky. They did look vaguely like lightning strikes, but all she could really see were the bright flashes. She rose to her feet in discomfort. Goosebumps had risen all over her arms, and she hugged herself, picked her wet shirt back up to cover herself more adequately.

  Come to your senses, Alana. There's nothing strange about a dry storm during heatwave. It's just lightning, nothing odd...

  After consoling herself for a moment, she finally retreated back toward the small campsite. And even though the sky was clear of any clouds, there was a heavy odor of rain... A rain that would never come to those scorching northern lands...

  Soren looked over the pack with an unimpressed, tired gaze the next morning. He called unenthusiastically once or twice for their attention, and waited for them all to come to some fascimile of quiet. "This is it, lads and lasses. The edge of Acrypa. Two months of travel all for this, and one month within. The Triumvirate thanks you remaining few for your dedication, your commitment, and your heartiness. Kyrine will sing your praises when we return. I'll remind everyone of the Triumvirate's mission:"

  The pack fell into a more complete silence.

  "We're here to discover the cause behind the schism which created Ocria and Acrypa. And we're here to discover what happened during that schism."

  Alana raised her hand. "Did they not separate during a war two centuries ago?"

  "That's what we're here to uncover. A war has been the popular theory for many years, but we've no actual proof of such a thing, and we all know how the Third Triumvir feels about proof. Ocria was a forebearer in the peace treaties which now bind us all, including the pact that no country is allowed to hire blacksmiths directly, or to produce weapons en masse. So the question has ever been, why so did they strive for peace? Why did they fight for us to be allies, if they won a costly battle, a civil war that obliterated all life in Acrypa?"

  Tykas raised his hand as well. "Is it possible they won the war but regretted the cost? Maybe the ugly way of war sent them into deep regret, and they tried to make reparations?"

  Alana glared at Tykas, feeling targeted, but Soren answered appropriately: "It's another working theory. We don't have all of the necessary information to make such a determination. The Third Triumvir will be more pleased should we find evidence to support one claim or another."

  Another voice asked up, "Have you met the Triumvirate?"

  Soren nodded. "We travelled together along this route during the initial planning of this endeavor. We undertook the Tal'eesisn protection rituals together."

  And another voice asked, "Can you tell us their names? What they look like?"

  "I'm sorry, that information is strictly confidential. Even the Third Triumvir elected to keep his mask and hood donned for the rituals. The other two, I did see, but am not at liberty to discuss."

  Alana rolled her eyes. Politics were bland and pompous to her; her heart was in seeing the sights, hearing the sounds of distant lands. There was a place beyond the trees ahead untouched by man for two centuries... She could hardly contain the excitement of seeing such a place.

  Seeing Kyrine had been amazing to her. It was the first time she'd left the jungles of Tal'eesia, and her first time seeing such a massive city as Valkaria, or seeing the kind of stone architecture that goes into such a magnificent place. The gold-winged Valkyries had evoked such a strong feeling in her that she couldn't quite explain—femme soldiers in curving steel armor that highlighted all of their curves, slimmed them at the waists, prominently featured all of their muscles and anatomy hiding underneath... Alana found herself blushing at the very thought.

  The male soldiers were assigned to night patrol as Valravns, men who wore all black, with cloaks made of wings from ravens and crows that made them appear as demons in the night. The craftsmanship of both the Valkyrie and Valravn costumes were impeccable... but they were just that: costumes. One decent force with more force than a light breeze could storm through every country and turn them all into Acrypa. It would be so simple. Alaron, to Alana's eyes, was weak.

  She remembered that Soren was still speaking. "If we come across any other explorers in there, we tell them the truth: we're here looking to tell the story of this once-great empire. If they're Ocrians... we'll have to obey their wishes, even if they wish for us to depart. If anybody gets split up from our force, head inland toward the capital. We're set to all meet there by the end of the month. And feel free to travel with any other Kyrian parties who offer you a stay." Soren looked satisfied with his speech. "Well then, you remaining seventeen... Shall we be off?"

  Alana plucked her halberd from where it stood beside her plunged into the dirt. She started forward as Soren turned to lead the party finally into those darkened trees.

  "Hey, Alana..." Tykas approached at her side.

  "Hm?"

  "Does it bother you? The people all glaring, you being... I mean, do you feel like an outcast?"

  "Not even a bit."

  "Right. Well either way, don't let it get to you."

  "I'm not."

  "I know. Just... You know, whatever you're going through—"

  "I'm not going through anything."

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  "I understand, but the things you're feeling—"

  She spun on her heel and faced him: "Tykas! Shut up!"

  "I..."

  "No! Enough! That thing yer doin' with her mouth...!" But seeing the glares, and sometimes frightened expressions from the other soldiers in the pack, she relented. "I'm sorry. But change the subject. I'm fine—I'm watching myself."

  "R...Right," he stammered, and hurried along ahead of her.

  Alana sighed and started her pace again, trailing at the back end of the group. Under her boots, the scorched grassland of Four Walls began to crumble into dark, soft dirt, speckled with bits of grass that had regained their plots through the path in the centuries of neglect. Alana was surprised more hadn't grown back. Some trees, too, had sprouted up in between the path, or their roots had lifted segments of the ground to make the terrain slightly more difficult. Alana expected as much; until they reached the cities, they'd be traversing a thick, overgrown forest. But even so, she was shocked that none of the trees had managed to sprout any leaves in the centuries between. Perhaps, she wondered, something had died with the empire that caused the land to die, too. Or maybe it was exactly that which caused the schism.

  Had they upset the spirits? Had God wrought their fate, damned them to leave the land for their indiscretions? What meaning did it all have...?

  Soren was giving another speech up front: "Already you can see what the disuse has done to this land. This is a forest which has gone supposedly untouched for two-hundred years. There are no records, maps or otherwise, to indicate that any of this has been explored since the schism. This is a new world—this is Ocria's holy land, a virgin pilgrimage that they may one day learn of our confidence and wanderlust to make this place their own oncemore. Bless Ocria and their democracy for allowing our passage, allowing us to pick their dead land's fruit, and allowing us to bear witness to their vulnerable, lost capital. We're here to witness the fate which every country eventually will succumb to. Amen."

  "Amen," repeated the pack in unison.

  Tykas looked back and slowed his pace to reunite with Alana. She could tell by his pale expression that he was becoming afraid as the sky grew darker, more blotted out by the bare branches over their heads. When she was within earshot, he whispered, "Do you think all the countries will really succumb like this?"

  "Everything dies, Tykas. Even kings and countries."

  "Sure, but... We saw Valkana together. That place felt timeless."

  "They all do. And then they're gone. Just like people. Countries—they have famine and disease, war and revolt, so many things could go wrong, and then... poof."

  "Poof? It couldn't be so easy as poof."

  "Well, maybe not. Maybe it's more often than not a prolonged, painful deathrattle. And then...?" She shrugged her shoulders.

  "But Valkana, or Kyrine... Tal'eesia even; that won't be within our lifetimes. You think?"

  "Probably not. But I guess it depends on how long you're thinking of living."

  "Huh?"

  "Gramma used to say that elves could live for five lifetimes."

  "But elves aren't around anymore. If they ever were, I mean."

  "They were. My Gramma learned everything she knew from them. So she said. That's how people live so long, now: elven rituals and medicine left behind."

  "Hmm... So it's possible that we could find something in Acrypa that lets us live even longer? If the average lifespan right now is sixty years—"

  "People in Tal'eesia live to one hundred easily with the medicines."

  "Really!? What if we found something that let us live for two hundred?"

  "What're you gonna do with two hundred years? You don't even know what to do with yourself now."

  "Hey, I have hobbies! I play the flute!"

  "So you're gonna play the flute for two hundred years?"

  "No! There's lots more I could learn!"

  The ground was becoming softer as they went, the path fading deeper and deeper into obscurity. Over the treetops they could see some stone pillars, crumbling and collapsed, silhouetted against the ever-dimming sun. The trees, too, were growing closer, encroaching and suffocating them.

  And then Soren stopped at the head of the pack.

  "I could learn the lute! Or I could write a book! Well, everyone's writing a book nowadays... Or I could pursue old magic—I know they say magic is low in Alaron, but—"

  "Shh!" Alana patted her sword twice, moved quietly toward the front of the group.

  Tykas stopped where he was. He swallowed, and realized a burning lump had formed in his throat. He was scared.

  "What is it?" asked Alana once she was nearby Soren, and the three others looking around suspiciously at their surroundings.

  "I heard a noise! But not like a creature...!"

  "Soren?"

  "It was crying! It sounded like crying, like a woman crying! There must be someone in danger nearby, maybe she wandered in, maybe she...!"

  "Soren, think clearly! How could somebody stumble in here by accident? Four Walls is as barren of life as Acrypa."

  He persisted, sweat beading down his forehead. "Men! Hark!"

  "Oy!"

  The rest of the group shouted in unison, "Hark!"

  "Soren! Before you go getting everyone riled up, are you sure you really heard something?"

  "I know what I heard, Alana!" His frantic voice became more commanding. "This is our job, to help people! Not to..." He looked sadly down at her.

  "Enough about what I did. I don't want to hear about it anymore. We'll go check on your maiden."

  He smacked his dry lips. "Err, yes, yes... My men, it was through there." He pointed into the trees. "The thick, there."

  A couple men approached, their steel armors finely polished. They would have shone brightly, had there been any light.

  Alana commanded, “Someone light up a lantern.”

  But all she got were a few snide remarks: “Who put the killer in charge?”

  Seeing that nobody else would, she pulled a lantern from the pack hanging on her back, and took a match from the side of it. With a careful strike, she had the lantern lit in no time.

  The two soldiers were beginning through the bushes, carefully manuevering around what they thought were thorny plants.

  Alana didn’t know enough about plants to correct them, and took the same careful path they took, climbing over, bending under a branch, careful not to trip on the roots beyond... “What do you see?”

  “Shh! Why don’t you turn back? This isn’t a job for a murderer.”

  Alana grit her teeth.

  “Helping people is harder than hurting them, Alana.”

  She suppressed her rage. Just deep breaths, just like Tir had told her. ‘There’ll be times when you get mad, Alana, uncontrollably so. Just breathe in deep. It’ll be over before you know it.’

  Alana paused. Her eyes widened, remembering what Tirolith had told her.

  ‘It’s like a voice, inside. It will call for blood. It’s the same voice your father once resisted, and once faltered beneath. Just know, Alana: the good you do will always outweigh the bad. And the bad... The bad won’t be your fault.’

  ...What did she mean by that? No—when did she even tell me that?

  “AAAAAAUUUUGH!!”

  Alana blinked; the scream came from ahead. She’d lost sight of the two soldiers. She rushed ahead into the thick.

  No, dammit! They’ll think I killed them if they get hurt! They’ll think...!

  She leapt out into a clearing, tripped on a root, slipped and slammed hard into the ground. Her armor clattered noisily around her, her pauldron leapt off her shoulder, and her chain skirt shattered into pieces.

  Clumsy fuckin’ craftsmanship--!

  Her breath caught in her throat when she looked up. There were the two soldiers—dead. One of them was lying face-down in the black dirt of the circular clearing. The other one... the other one was in the embrace of the woman who’d screamed.

  But her face was missing. There was just pale, white skin... And the maw of a spider. It was all covered in blood... It was all...

  “Oh… aren’t you just a beautiful cocoon, bursting at the seams.”

  “Wh... what!?” Alana’s voice was shuddering. She was too scared to move, her whole body was frozen.

  The thing dropped the soldier’s corpse onto the ground. She stood up, and her filthy white dress draped down around her, torn and tainted. “Ooh, and not to mention, you’ve brought someone else with you…”

  She glanced around left and right. She was alone. “Stay back! Don’t come any closer!”

  The thing began to approach her, slowly, step by step... It lifted its clawed hands up... It looked hungry...!

  “So let’s see, girl… Let’s find out what you’re made of.”

  She thought the demon said something else—she thought it said, Valenkir, don’t stay still! MOVE!

  But Alana only gasped. “How do you know my name!?”

  And the creature was upon her--!