Eastmarch’s fertile Hinterlands sped away from Ethan as he flew towards the far Southern reaches of Argwyll.

  Below, he could make out the changing world that he was soon to inherit: plantations set ablaze, the houses of the human slave masters decimated along with their livelihoods. Entire cities had been overturned by Hybrids who had heard the call of the Lamphran Mandate. Some of them had razed population centers in furious streams of righteous retribution. Still others had organized lynchings of their former human overseers.

  Word had already begun to spread that Camoran had fallen. Now, the rise of the Hybrid was at hand. Argwyll was bleeding, and the Dark Angel wasn’t done yet. Down there were freed men and women who looked to the skies and saw his violet-wreathed wings in the night as a sign that victory would be theirs, no matter the cost.

  Ethan watched them with no small amount of trepidation, however. And he was not the only one.

  “Lotta smoke down there,” Tara muttered from her position on his shoulder.

  “The new world won’t be built without some sacrifice,” Klax said from Ethan’s back. “We knew this. We talked about this.”

  “I know,” Tara replied. “But still – it’s gotta stop at some point, don’t it?”

  Ethan didn’t know if Klax replied or not. Instead, he felt Fauna’s comforting hand on his cheek.

  “You can’t change people’s hearts and minds with a dream overnight,” she whispered to him. “It’s going to take time before anger fades away on both sides.”

  “I know that,” Ethan replied softly, eyes still laser-focused on the foggy horizon before him. “But I can’t afford to make any more excuses like that. I need to be better, Faun. For you guys, and for everyone.”

  The three Hybrids looked to eachother, equally confused by their Archon’s talks as they usually were these days. Ever since he’d taken the head of the Lightborn, he’d spoken more like a philosopher under some kind of trance than the quippy, plucky Ethan Hawke they knew.

  They put it down to the burdens of leadership which must lay heavy on his shoulders. But they didn’t know the truth.

  That very truth still haunted Ethan even now. Their eyes looked forward into the misty mountains that rose in Argwyll’s South, while his looked forward into a future of marching Hybrid armies, each one crying out his name while they raged across this realm and burned everything that remained.

  That thought, and that thought alone, was what kept him up at night. And it’s what told him that Remiel and his goons’ deaths wasn’t going to be enough. He needed a contingency plan.

  And thanks to Remiel’s memories, he knew exactly who could give him just that.

  ***

  Mist poured across the southern marches of Argwyll like a pale ocean turned upside down, spilling and pooling among the jagged peaks. From above, the mountains looked less like stone and more like the backs of ancient titans hunched in eternal slumber, their shoulders half-hidden by fog. Each spire rose narrow and sheer, cliffs plunging away into unseen depths where rivers whispered faintly through the veil.

  The air was cool and damp, heavy with the smell of wet stone and moss. White tendrils of cloud clung to the cliffsides, curling like smoke from invisible braziers. Here and there, ridges broke free of the haze, crowned with twisted pines whose roots clung desperately to cracks in the limestone.

  One mountain rose higher than all the rest, its summit piercing the mist like a spearpoint thrust toward heaven. The slopes were carpeted in dark moss and trailing ferns, so ancient they seemed older than memory itself. At the very top, hidden until Ethan drew near, were the remnants of forgotten ruins—arches broken by time, leaning columns draped in green, and the faint impression of walls half-swallowed by the mountain. No banners flew there, no voices lingered. Only the wind moved through the shattered stones, carrying the ghosts of a people whose names had long been erased.

  It was to this solitary crown, the highest point in the southern reaches, that Ethan’s wings carried him, down through the fog, toward moss-covered silence and secrets buried in the clouds.

  Ethan set himself and his party down next to the faded walls of one such vine-covered ruin, gently furling his angel wings and observing the surrounding environment while the Hybrids got their bearings.

  It wasn’t long until Tara asked the question on everyone’s mind:

  “So…remind me why we’re here again?”

  Ethan eyed them with two of his diamond violet eyes. It was like an alien looking upon a trio of ants, and they had to remind themselves that it was him up there, his crimson eyes squinting just above the forehead of what had once been Artorious.

  “I’m going to explore a little,” he said. “According to Remiel, there’s someone here who can help us before we make the final push towards Mistborne. Someone more ancient than anyone else in this entire world.”

  Fauna leaned on her staff. “Are you sure?”

  He chuckled. “As sure as I can be of anything these days.”

  He stretched his wings, readied a Wing Buffet, and scanned the horizon with [Eyes of Raziel]. If this place was really what he thought it was, he’d find his prize before dawn’s light.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Stay here,” he said. “I won’t be long.”

  “What d’you expect us to do, pick pretty poses on the mountainside?” Tara quipped. “We’re a bunch of seasoned warriors now, Mr Ethan. We ain’t made to just sit around.”

  Ethan looked over his shoulder once, a sly smile forming on his pale lips.

  “I need you to watch my back,” he said. “If my suspicions are correct, the Greycloaks of Eastmarch are probably tracking us. I’m sure they won’t have taken too kindly to their precious capital being conquered so easily.”

  Tara protested, but Klax had already thrown down his pack and was busy getting a fire started. Fauna joined him, sniveling a little as the mountain pollen assailed her flaring nostrils.

  When Tara turned back to Ethan, he’d already launched himself towards the next mountain-ruin.

  “Honestly,” she whispered. “He treats us like hired help these days.”

  “I’m worried about him,” Fauna murmured as she launched a firebolt into Klax’s kindling and instantly set it ablaze.

  “Makes a change,” Tara whispered to Klax as she set herself cross legged behind him and stretched out on a rocky outcropping.

  “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t worry about him,” the Lycae agreed. “Even with all the power in the world, you still doubt he’ll pull this off?”

  Fauna sniffed up a rather large string of snot.

  “He’s conflicted,” she said. “He’s always conflicted nowadays. I just wish I knew how to make him…relax. Let go a little.”

  When her companions didn’t reply, Fauna’s eyes flew to them and saw the mischievous smiles they both shared.

  “What?”

  “We didn’t say anything, Faun.”

  “You didn’t have to. It’s written on your faces.”

  “On our faces?” Tara mimicked, feigning hurt. “Klax, are you hearing this? Miss Fauna believes we are keeping a secret from her.”

  “Perish the thought,” Klax sighed as he slumped down on a nearby stone.

  Fauna’s vision flashed from Lycae to Minxit, Minxit to Lycae, her eyes becoming more and more glossy with hayfever.

  “Alright,” she sniffed. “Spill it.”

  Tara gave another liberal feline stretch, before brushing a lithe paw over her new half-singed hairdo.

  “We – that is to say – I – have acquired some items which might be of use to you in relaxing our stressed-out commander, Miss Fauna.”

  She winked at Klax. “Shall we show her?”

  “I believe it would be best for all of us,” the old wolf grinned.

  Fauna then looked as the secret items the Minxit Master thief had taken from Camoran, unbeknownst to her, were produced and placed before their little bonfire in the dark.

  And the smiles that spread across both Tara and Klax’s faces were so utterly incongruous with what they’d all been through that Fauna had to give a snottery little giggle. For the first time in a long time, she felt like they were all badly behaved children again.

  “You are a terrible pair,” she said.

  To her surprise, neither of them blushed.

  ***

  Ethan’s eyes scanned the mountain ruins, aided by the revealing sight Skill of Lightborn Raziel.

  But each moss-covered mountain showed him nothing but more grass and forgotten buildings. None of them displayed what he needed.

  Flying among these great mounds jutting out from this foggy crevice of Argwyll did little to make him feel at ease. Still, if he was to succeed, and secure the future he wanted for this world, he had to hold on to the hope that what he sought was here.

  [Skitter] Grade S: Activated!

  His wings vibrated with the sudden explosion of speed, electric blue sparking flaring from his pinions and catapulting him towards each mountain so he could inspect their innards close. Mound by mound he scoured this forgotten environment with one thought dominating his mind:

  The Architect would put up a fight…even for him. But no matter. They would bring that creature to heel before the Archon could seek him out and gain any more advantages over them.

  This was the thought that had fascinated and disturbed Ethan in equal measure – Remiel’s knowledge that there was someone out here in the world who knew something he didn’t, and had remained hidden for eons with such knowledge. It didn’t sit right with the old man. Flipping through his memories like the charred pages of a burned diary, Ethan could feel the revulsion that practically dripped from this title – Architect.

  Whoever this being was, the intelligence of the Cardinals had pinpointed this location. He was here. And he had something that could be of use to Ethan. What that was, and whether he’d actually help his cause...well that was anyone's guess.

  But Ethan was willing to bank on this: whoever this Architect was, it was someone Remiel despised. It was someone who, clearly, had managed to evade human society on Argwyll for all these years. Remiel had been systematically checking off the oldest creatures in this world. If the Architect was one of them, Ethan needed to meet him.

  And the fact that this aged elder was clearly still intent on obscuring itself from him was starting to piss him off a little bit.

  He stopped in the middle of another cross-section of mountains, his eyes looking through their hidden bowels and seeing…nothing.

  He stopped at an intersection, starting to believe that he’d gone this way before. Unsure of himself, he focused on attaining a new upgrade that would at least give him peace of mind. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he was damn sure that he’d checked every corner of this place:

  [Blink] Grade S

  [Bug-Out] Unlocked!

  You are now capable of teleporting instantly to any area you have traveled to before.

  Current Spirit Cores: 61,900

  He nodded silently and felt power that even old Ranok – the bearer of this unique Skill – had never felt. For the next few minutes, he zipped from one mountain to another, visualizing those he’d seen and letting this new upgrade zap him instantly to its peak.

  It did nothing but assure him that he’d already scoured the length of this place. And, when he was done teleporting himself into a complete stupor, he found himself floating at another cross-section of mountain covered in mist.

  “Architect!” he called out. “I – Archon Ethan Hawke – have come to ask for your guidance. Surely you have heard my Mandate even in this corner of the world? You must know I do not come with the intent to cause harm.”

  In response, Ethan got nothing but silence. He hovered there, watching mist gather around his feet, and felt more isolated than he’d felt for a long time.

  What are you doing, Ethan?

  He didn’t respond at first. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on the peaks of the mountains, where tiny, almost imperceptible vibrations had started taking place.

  You could be sipping tea on Mistborne out of Kaedmon’s head right now, y’know. Instead? We’re sightseeing. You mind telling me what the plan of action is here, Chie-

  A sudden burst of movement from four mountains above cut off Sys’s voice. Ethan turned, activated [Repulsor Shield] and effortlessly managed to block the five spectral missiles that had just been launched his way.

  At the peaks of the mountains, four green-tinged golems had just emerged from the remains of the ruins, activated no doubt by the very individual Ethan was here to see. The creatures stretched their massive limbs, each one readying its stone-cut bow for another strike at the interloper in their realm.

  Looks like someone doesn’t wanna be woken up, Sys sighed. But honestly, Ethan, you don’t have to deal with these berks. It’s a waste of time.

  Before those last words had even left Sys’ lips, Ethan was already speeding towards his foes.

  Nah, Sys, he thought. This is exactly what I need.