Tucker lay down on his bed, feeling the soft cotton fabric brush against his hands. He stared at the darkened ceiling as if he were searching for answers. Hours had gone by, and what was once day turned to night. The sheets blanketed his body, providing warmth and discomfort no matter how he shifted. Each time he closed his eyes, his thoughts grew louder—memories replaying like some kind of cruel reminder, and worries resurfacing to haunt him over his failures.

  He turned to his side, then the other, listening to the slow rhythm of his own beating heart, refusing to rest. The comfort of dreams hovered just out of reach, and all he could do was lie there. Awake with a burning soul that hammered in his chest.

  Seconds felt like an eternity. His body rested despite his mind fighting back each moment of peace. And at that moment, the words on the scholar’s door echoed in his head.

  Loyalty in silence, honor in deeds.

  The meaning of the creed never resonated with him. But now that he was left with his thoughts, the words struck a chord. True loyalty didn’t need an audience, and honor wasn’t a title you claimed. It was a right you earned through consistent results. There wasn’t a need to tell others who he was or how much he cared. Instead, it would be shown through his sacrifices and decisions. That was what it meant to be a watchman.

  Tucker’s gaze drifted to the side, falling on Gale as his companion slept on the side of his bed. He rose from his bed, feet slipping into his metallic boots. The hem of his clean white shirt and long black pants brushed against the bedsheets.

  Gale slowly lifted its head, staring at Tucker with a confused tilt as if asking where he was going.

  “I’m going to train.”

  Gale sprang from its nesting spot, flailing its wings in protest. Yet Tucker simply shook his head, silencing the protest in one swift motion. Seeing that it wasn’t possible to stop its contractor, Gale gave a small chirp before flapping its wings and settling onto Tucker’s shoulder.

  “You want to come along?” he asked, watching as Gale bobbed its head. “Alright, then, for now we’ll head to the training grounds.”

  Tucker reached for the lumenite blade and leather pouch resting beside the wooden nightstand and secured it at his belt. His hand reached for the metal handle of the door, pulling it open as the hinges groaned in protest. The once silent room came to life, pages of open notes brushing against the cold draft that crept through the hall.

  Shadows clung to Tucker’s back. He entered the empty corridor with the magic lanterns shining upon his figure. All that remained was preparing for the next mission, and to do so, he needed to strengthen his existing skills. The few hours of rest were all he could afford. Anymore, and it would be a loss to his self-improvement.

  His steps quickened as he approached the training yard. From the other side of the door, he could hear several muffled voices bickering with one another. With a light push, the steel doors gave way, parting as the iron hinges released a low rumble.

  Before him was an open dirt field with a high stone ceiling. The magic lanterns lit the entire room, and weapons lined the walls, resting in iron racks and mounting points just within a few steps of the arena. Tucker stared at the two individuals standing in the center, his eyes narrowing on Ray and Alex as they turned their heads in his direction.

  “Can’t sleep either, huh?” Ray said.

  Tucker nodded. “I suppose that’s the same for you two. How long have you been up?”

  “I’ve only had an hour or two of rest before I came here,” Ray replied.

  Alex sighed, adjusting his leather hat. “I’m not much better. After I submitted the mission request to the Administrators, I came straight here.”

  “It seems we all didn’t get proper rest,” Tucker said, walking towards the center of the arena. “Are you working on forming the spirit bands?”

  “Yeah, and this shit sucks.” Ray held out his burned leather gloves. “I can’t summon Rover; I can’t form these damn bands. It really feels like I’ve wasted my time for the past few hours.”

  “Have you had any luck, Alex?” Tucker asked.

  The veteran shook his head with a faint smile. “It doesn’t seem as simple as I thought.” He held out his hand and formed a small flame, forcing the essence to cycle constantly within itself, but after moments it became unstable. “If I push it too far, then it collapses.”

  “I learned that the hard way,” Ray added.

  “It’s because you didn’t listen,” Alex pointed out. “I told you that brute force wouldn’t be the solution.”

  Tucker watched as the two argued back and forth before finally cutting in. “How well can you see me channel my spirit essence?”

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  “If we’re close enough, we should be able to see the fluctuations around your body,” Alex said.

  “That should be good enough, so pay attention.” Tucker circulated the essence through his heart. “I’ve already formed one band, but if I were to form another, these are the steps I would take.”

  They watched as the emerald energy around Tucker spun around his heart at tremendous speed. The sheer pressure surrounding him blew the dirt back into rolls of clouds. He held onto the space before his chest, carefully cycling the rampant energy while slowly increasing the velocity.

  Tucker continued the process over and over for several minutes, trying to push the energy outwards into another band, but the existing one pushed back in defiance. Sweat dripped down his chin until finally, Tucker’s body couldn’t sustain the pressure anymore. The spirit essence dissipated around him with the breeze gently brushing against his skin.

  He slowly exhaled in defeat before lowering his arm. “It goes something like that.”

  “I see…” Alex nodded slowly with Sally popping its head out of his chest pocket. His companion climbed onto his dark green shirt before nuzzling against his beard. “It seems there is a difference in elements that’s preventing us from forming our spirit bands.”

  The veteran’s gaze sharpened. He brushed the dirt off his beige pants before trying again. Sally worriedly stared at Alex, refusing to leave his side as the fire essence within his heart flared. Around them, the air grew warm, like a hot summer’s day where a breath of wind rose beyond the horizon.

  Tucker glanced over and saw Ray about to begin as well, but shook his head, signalling for his comrade to wait. Ray raised a brow but immediately conceded before taking a step back. He could feel it. The essence was circling around Alex, answering his call.

  The world narrowed to a single point of focus within the chamber. Tucker crossed his arms and carefully examined the phenomenon occurring around his mentor. He controlled the thread of essence from his heart and sent it to the steel doors, forcing them shut so that no one could interrupt the rite.

  Gale gazed at him with a worried light in its eyes.

  “Don’t worry, have some faith in the old man,” Tucker said. “He’s overcome many trials in his life, and he’ll overcome this. But if he needs support, we’ll be here.”

  “Is that why you stopped me from creating my band?” Ray asked.

  “That’s right, and maybe you’ll pick up a few hints from Alex’s process.” Tucker watched the swirls of flames dance towards the ceiling. “In times like these, we have to support each other to the best of our capabilities. It’s just like our time at the bastion. Sometimes the only ones we have are those by our sides. Not the ones that say they’ll be there.”

  Ray fell silent. He could feel the warmth and emotions resonating from the blaze that rose outwards like beats of a drum. The approach was completely different compared to what they had been doing for the past few hours. Instead of a controlled and steady circulation. The veteran was fanning the essence raging in his body to the beat of his heart.

  Both of them watched as Alex fought to keep the flame alive. It wasn’t a desperate struggle on a war-ridden battlefield but an orchestra that played in harmony. One that reinforced the bond between contractor and spirit. Each movement carried the memory of battles long forgotten. What could have been if the world had held onto a fragment of hope.

  The scene unfolded like a story playing out the memories of who Alex was. It was completely different from what Tucker had gone through. This wasn’t just forming a spirit band. What his mentor was going through was far greater than anything he could have imagined.

  The air felt like a living furnace with each breath scorching his lungs. Tucker shielded his body with aura, protecting himself from the heat pressing in from every direction.

  As Tucker focused on Alex, he could tell something was wrong. At certain points, the temperature of the inferno surrounding his mentor dropped. He could see a golden ring form, brimming with life, but soon fade from existence. With the way the training room was designed, the heat was dispersing seconds after forming.

  “Commander, are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Ray asked.

  “Yeah, the room isn’t hot enough for Alex to form his band,” Tucker replied.

  “Is this another limitation of the process?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  Tucker scanned the room, marking all the runes that were used to protect the arena. The behaviour of the inscriptions was simple. If an element was running rampant, the runes would trigger a polar opposite effect to nullify it.

  He channeled wind essence into his palms, but the currents barely had time to form as they wavered before getting pulled into Alex’s inferno.

  From the side, Ray glared at his palm, watching as the fire bled like petals scattering to the wind.

  While Alex was struggling to maintain his form, they couldn’t afford to panic. Tucker kept his composure and met Ray’s frightened expression with a firm gaze. He grabbed Ray’s shoulder to snap him out of his daze.

  “How’s your aim?” Tucker asked, grabbing a bow and quiver from a nearby rack.

  “Absolutely shit,” Ray said without hesitation. “But I’ve got a better idea. I’ll feed it into that vortex of flames. If I do it bit by bit, I can slowly push the temperature higher.”

  Tucker nocked the arrow and drew the string back. Aura rushed out of his stars, flowing through his arms and coating the arrowhead in a sharp sheen. He met Ray’s gaze, reading the resolve there as much as the risk.

  If Ray made the slightest mistake. It could offset the entire rite, disrupting all of Alex’s work in a single chain of events. But they didn’t have a choice. Sally was only a low-tier spirit, and its reserves were already thinning.

  Tucker focused on the four evenly spaced runes through the narrow gaps in the wavering inferno. He couldn’t locate all of them, but just the few he could see were enough to help Alex. By breaking them one at a time, he would gradually raise the heat of the chamber.

  “Do it,” he said, taking aim.

  In an instant, the first arrow shot forth as the bowstring sang. The hum entered their ears before crossing the blistering heat. With a loud thud, it pierced through the first protection engraving. Cracks fractured outward along the stone tile, the dwarven rune splitting from the sheer force of the aura-clad arrow.

  Then came another arrow, and another—each striking the runes that were meant to protect the arena. Stone shards fell to the floor with violent tremors, but they couldn’t stop there. The blazing ring of light had yet to fully form, and in the center stood Alex in defiance.

  Tucker clenched his fingers tightly around the bow. They had done all they could. Ray was slowly feeding the flames with his own essence to strengthen them. However, only Alex could prevent the sparks from fading.

  The rays of light grew stronger, with the golden embrace blinding their vision. Tucker covered his eyes, the blazes growing stronger by the second. What came wasn’t noise or a howl of pain but a melody of hope born from the dwindling embers of a past generation.