“Are we there yet?”

  Lysander stopped walking for the seventh time on their journey, pinching his nose bridge as he let out a heavy sigh. “Astrea, if you ask that one more time, I’m going to turn around, walk back to the Library of Fate, dump you in front of Eos, and continue this journey alone.”

  Frowning, Astrea turned around to face her mentor and crossed her arms. “Fine, but just tell me exactly where we’re going because you haven’t told me anything!”

  “We are going to Noctivale to meet with Viluna,” he sighed. “There, we’ll make a plan of attack with her and any other gods and Eternals we encounter. Understood?”

  Astrea nodded in response and looked around at the barren wasteland before her.

  Eos had decided to drop the pair in the Stillhour Isles, specifically in the middle of the hourglass shaped island, the Badlands. The island was split between seasons, one side forever cold and the other forever hot, yet the middle was a wasteland, filled with criminals and those who felt abandoned by their god, the Banished. The Badlands’ residents hunted for unsuspecting victims who wandered into their home, attacking and scavenging with the hopes that they’d find something of value. For a mortal and an Eternal, it was a terrible place to be.

  “Why would Eos drop us here?” Astrea asked, clenching and unclenching her fists to calm her nerves. Lysander could tell that she was feeling uneasy and it was most likely justified. She could feel what was about to happen, and the chances of it being good were slim.

  “I’m not sure, but have faith in her, she’s never led us wrong before,” Lysander replied, his voice a faint whisper as he looked behind him. He too, was beginning to get an uneasy feeling and he tightened his grip on his sword. “Now, let’s keep–”

  “Shh!”

  Lysander went silent and spun around quickly, noticing that Astrea had now unsheathed the dagger strapped to her thigh. She put a finger to her lips, motioning him to maintain the silence before pointing off towards the east. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps were heard, rapidly approaching. Lysander squinted, barely able to make out at least a dozen figures clad in black and armed with various weapons ranging from simple daggers to heavy maces, while others seemed to wield magic. “The Banished!”

  Moving into a fighting stance, Astrea raised her dagger, angling it in the direction of the charging Banished. “What are we going to do? There are too many of them!” She yelled, refusing to take her eyes off the situation at hand. She feared that if she glanced away for even a moment, the attackers would strike her or Lysander down and she wouldn’t be able to stop them in time. She was met with nothing but silence. “Lysander?” She called out again, sensing his presence behind her. Hesitance flickered in her expression, her blue eyes shifted quickly between the approaching danger and trying to see her mentor behind her. She knew she should focus on the danger ahead and trust that Lysander could handle himself but her worry for his well-being overcame her logic. One final glance was cast at the attackers before she turned quickly. “Lysander?” Before she could fully comprehend what she was seeing, something heavy came down on her head, knocking her to the ground and her dagger out of her hand as a big shadow towered over her.

  “I knew I shouldn’t have turned around…” she muttered, rolling onto her back in an attempt to get a look at the man towering over her but was instead met with the sight of a wooden club being raised over the man’s head.

  “Gods damn it!” She rolled out of the way seconds before the club came down, hitting the spot next to her head and sending dirt flying in her direction. Reaching for her discarded dagger, Astrea swiveled and landed an upper slash on the man’s face, causing blood to spill from the new wound and blinding the man. She got to her feet quickly as the man was distracted and ran towards her mentor. “Lysander!” She called out to him but he gave no response.

  Lysander’s cold grey eyes were unfocused as he stood frozen in place. He appeared to be looking towards Astrea and her distracted attacker but his mind was elsewhere. One of the Banished, a young but muscular woman, seemed to take notice of Lysander’s state as she changed course and sped towards him, wielding two sickles by her side. The woman leaped up, sickles angled directly towards him.

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  Time seemed to freeze around Astrea, a faint memory flashing through her mind. Suddenly, she was seven again, and she was sitting on a woman’s lap as the world descended into flames around them. The memory was fuzzy, Astrea couldn’t make out more than the blurry woman’s arms around her and her warm smile. She couldn’t understand why the woman’s smile brought her a familiar sense of comfort but she chose not to question it, closing her eyes and embracing the warmth that came from both the woman and the flames that surrounded them. The woman brushed Astrea’s red hair out of her face and Astrea noticed that she seemed to have the same hair. My mother. Astrea recalled, focusing on the woman to see if she could make out any more details. The woman grew blurrier, hurting Astrea’s eyes.

  “Remember, my dear, if you must fight, fight for those you love. If you must run, run only long enough to come back stronger.”

  The woman pressed her lips to Astrea’s forehead as the flames danced around them, growing closer with each second. As they caressed her skin, the memory faded to black and Astrea found herself back in the present, watching a woman attack the closest thing she had ever had to a father. Without a moment’s hesitation, Astrea threw her dagger which landed square in the middle of the woman’s chest. The woman fell to the ground, sickles landing beside her as she clutched at the blade penetrating her chest. She managed to give one last glance at her killer before crumpling over, hand loosely wrapped around the hilt of Astrea’s blade. The look that the woman had given her was one of pure hatred and fear and Astrea had decided that it would haunt her nightmares. She ran over to the woman, ripping the blade out of her chest and sheathing it away before rushing over to check on Lysander. “Hey! Wake up!” She cried but he still gave no response. “Lysander!”

  Footsteps continued to approach. More attackants were coming and Astrea knew she couldn’t hold them off on her own. She grabbed the bow from her backpack and took four arrows from her quiver. With careful precision, Astrea shot at the four Banished, each arrow flying their course and hitting each of the attackers on their arm.

  “What great aim you have!” The Banished laughed tauntingly until the first one dropped to the floor, then the second, then the third, until one was standing. Astrea winked at the final Banished before he too, dropped to the ground. In preparation for any battle, Astrea dipped the tips of her arrows in all kinds of toxins, each with its own purpose. The current arrows were dipped in Somnin, a knock-out toxin.

  “Astrea?” Lysander muttered groggily. Astrea shot out a few more arrows, precisely hitting her targets who faced the same fates as the first few before turning around. “Lysander!” She tucked her arrows back into her quiver before running over to him, wrapping him in a hug. “You’re okay!” she laughed, relieved. “What was that? What happened to you?”

  Lysander avoided her gaze, letting his arms drop from around her. “Let’s just keep walking, Astrea.” he sighed, turning to continue on their original path but was stopped by her hand wrapping around his wrist. “No, Dad–”

  The word made Lysander freeze. “Dad?” He repeated, turning to look at Astrea, who had now turned red from embarrassment.

  “I meant Lysander. I didn’t say Dad!” She protested but Lysander cut her off with a hug.

  “It’s okay, Astrea, you can call me dad.” He would never admit it but hearing the word after so long reminded him of his past. He thought back to his own family, his little girl that had been taken from him, his wife who had been pulled from his arms. He could see them so clearly, his wife’s bright brown eyes, his daughter, Olivia’s wild blue hair. A tear rolled down his cheek. Oh how he missed them.

  “Lysander?” Astrea said, snapping Lysander from his trance. “You zoned out again.”

  He let go of her, sighing as he wiped the tear away. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” she frowned, choosing not to comment on the tear. “So what happened earlier? Why did you freeze like that?”

  “It was Eos,” He explained, his expression hardening. “She wanted to convey a message.”

  Astrea frowned. It was unlike Eos to send messages through Lysander, she usually chose Astrea because she could speak to the gods with ease. Lysander seemed to read Astrea’s thoughts because he added. “And she wanted to test you.”

  “Test me?” She repeated.

  “Yes, she wanted to see if you could handle yourself well in battle, especially after all your training,” Lysander decided not to tell her how he pleaded to Eos to allow him to help Astrea fight, worried for her safety. “She also mentioned that we have to hurry. Something is coming for Noctivale and we have to be there for it.”

  Astrea tensed, gripping her bow. “What is it?”

  “It’s a group of people we have to meet, and Eos says they’re on their way there right now.”

  Astrea nodded, smiling. “Great, then let’s get going!”