Later that night, having made the long and silent trek back to the abandoned warehouse, the group - sans Roy, who had gone out once more after making it clear that he was feeling more level headed than he had previously - gathered around a small fire to warm themselves and spoke about the day.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen him do something like that,” Norik said.

Startled, Kid couldn’t help but sputter out a response. “Things like that have happened more than once?”

Norik winced, as if looking back at a painful memory. “Yeah… Roy has a bit of a history with the City Lord, though I’m sure that the Lord doesn’t even know or care.”

“What sort of history?”

Norik looked around, checking to see if Roy was returning. He had a grim look - a look that was mirrored upon the faces of the others.

“Have you ever wondered what brought us together? I mean, Roy did of course - but why does he go out of his way to find people like us? After all, each new person that we bring in is one new mouth to feed. Especially if, like you, he takes it upon himself to bring in someone who needs time to heal and recover before they can help keep us afloat.”

“I guess that I just assumed that it was something that was in his nature. You once said that we remind him of himself, didn’t you?”

“Well, you might be right about that in some way - maybe it is in his nature. Even if that wasn’t true once, it certainly is now.”

Anniya interjected, in a serious mood for once. “It’s because of his older sister.”

“He has a sister?” Kid asked.

“Yes, though they have not seen each other in a long time. Honestly, I’m not actually sure if she is still alive. He’s not very open about it, but it’s hard for something like this to not come out eventually. From what I can tell, what happened was -”

The heavy warehouse door began to slowly creak open, protesting at the lack of oil on its worn hinges. Roy stepped in, heavy sweat dripping from his brow. Though he had wiped away the blood as best he could, the right side of his face was already beginning to show signs of some heavy bruising. A bundle of fabric was pressed closely against his chest. Far and away from what might be expected, Roy appeared to be filled with determination and vigor.

He joined the others, carefully placing the bundle away from the deadly tongues of the nearby fire. He leaned in closely, a near-manic look in his eyes.

“I am tired of this. I am tired of waiting. I am tired of sitting back, telling myself that things will get better in time. For too long, Awakened like the City Lord and his lead guardsmen have used their strength to lord over and abuse us. For far too long.

“I thought that I could wait. After all, if I could manage to gather a soulseed and Awaken, I could enter the Tower. Eventually, I might be able to leave with more strength than I can currently imagine. I could gain an advantage - or at least level the playing field somewhat.

“People can enter the Tower with nothing, and leave with the strength to create dynasties. We’ve all seen it - they use their influence and knowledge to hold their place above us, helping their children and vassals to Awaken and obtain strength of their own. Strength that can be used to increase their own power.”

He looked at each of them in turn, reflections of firelight flickering off of his excited orbs.

“I didn't always live in Yraos. My parents were like true adventurers - my sister and I lived with them in a town on the border of human territory. I grew up with stories of heroic Awakened and fearless champions.” As he spoke, he began to have a faraway look in his eyes, as if lost in his memories and reminiscence.

“They always told us that it was their dream to find soulseeds and Awaken - to be able to become strong enough to protect people from anything, both monster and human. But it wasn’t meant to be. Though eventually they found one, it was only one. My father Awakened and traveled here - to Yraos, the closest Ancient City that they knew possessed a Tower entrance.

“Young as I was, I remember that day very clearly. Father went in and never came out. Though my mother waited for him to return, she grew to be more and more distraught as time passed. Weeks turned into months, and he had still not returned. Though they had planned on using his increased power to help her get a soulseed of her own, she couldn’t wait. She threw herself into the search desperately - telling us how he was lost and she was going to follow him and bring him back.

“She never made it that far.” Roy’s voice broke slightly, creaking under the weight of his emotions.

“My mother died trying to reach my father, and he never returned from the Tower. Most likely, he died soon after entering. Everyone says that it’s dangerous in there.

“They left us alone. But, though they failed, I understand them. The small few Awakened that return from the Tower do so with the power to change things for themselves. Even the ones who leave as soon as possible tend to be significantly more powerful that us Unawakened. Not to mention those like the City Lord, who are strong enough to lead an entire city.

“Understanding them did not make life any easier for us, however. My elder sister, Eliya, and I were forced to try to make it on our own - and we did, for a time. Young as I was, she did most of the heavy lifting. Between the two of us, we were able to make ends meet. It wasn’t a good life, but at least it was one - and in that respect, our lot was better than many others. We had a room in a cheap inn, and enough food to quiet our hunger.

“Yet one day, when we were in the Market, a fancy carriage passed by. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. After all, it had nothing to do with us.

“I was wrong. That very night, a group of guardsmen came to the inn. They worked personally for the City Lord, they said. Before I knew it, they had whisked Eliya away. There was no explanation, no discussion. Just like that, she was gone.

“It wasn’t until two weeks later that I finally saw her again.” Roy’s face twisted with grief and helplessness at the memory. A single tear began to leak from the corner of his eye, running down his cheek.

“Eliya came back. But she wasn’t the same. She stumbled through the door to our inn’s room, barely able to prevent herself from falling with every step. Blood seemed to seep out of her very pores. Her left arm was twisted and mangled, and her skin felt as if it was fire itself. I tried to do something for her, to help her. But I had spent the remainder of our money paying for the inn’s room. Waiting for her to return. We had nothing. No way to pay for a healer. No way to save her.

“I watched as she slipped further into delirium each day, broken by the pain and suffering. She would cry and writhe in her sleep, begging for it to end. Begging to go home. Even when awake, she began to look at me like a stranger - or even worse, as if she was afraid of me. Afraid of what I might do to her.”

He paused for a moment, breathing deeply and closing his eyes before continuing.

“I did what I could. I saved and I stole, looking for any way to gather the means to help her. In the end, I just wasn’t quick enough.

“Then, one night, she gained a small moment of lucidity. She looked at me and just said one thing.

‘I’m going to go meet Mom. Find Dad for us, and bring him home. We’ll be a family again, little brother.’

“Then, she smiled and breathed her last breath.”