The group chatted amicably on the way to and in the dining hall, where they were joined enthusiastically by a bored Hollyhock. He had tales of his own, mostly concerning hijinks comparable to the egg roof incident. They hadn’t been sitting long when Iree swaggered in, followed by a blank-faced Ariana.

“Atlin!” Iree called. “Everyone else. To my office.” Wherever she stood instantly became the center of attention, and this was only amplified in her office, a quaint room filled with vanilla-scented candles and a straight row of chairs facing a chalkboard. Her audience in this case filed into the seats while Iree stood at the board, hand on her hips. “Right! Atlin. These are the people you’ll be working with closely during your time here. My A-team, if you will, made up of Rhys, Creed, Kingfisher and, obviously, myself. With occasional guest appearances from the incomparable Hollyhock Novak.”

“Oh-ho-ho!” Hollyhock laughed. “Why, you flatter me!”

Iree chuckled. “Anyways, Atlin, you’ve met Kingfisher, but it was brief, so, re-meet.”

Ariana was like a stone, impenetrable and hard. Still, Dorothea wanted to at least try. “Thank you for your efforts concerning Equin,” she said sincerely. “I’m sorry with how things turned out. I’m glad you weren’t hurt.” It wasn’t their fault, and it must have been terrible to see.

“Yeah.”

Dorothea lowered her eyes, having had difficulty making contact in the first place. That seemed to be it. Well, she’d take what she could get.

Iree took over crisply. “Creed and Kingfisher are going to be your bodyguards, Atlin. I’m taking into account that you’re untrained and not used to this life. Obviously, we don’t have the time to make you an elite soldier, so this is our best bet. We’ll all be on the front lines together, so know you’ve got some real powerhouses on your side.”

“The front lines…” Dorothea echoed. It was starting to sink in. She was really going to enter a war.

Iree smiled apologetically. “That’s where we need you.”

“I understand.”

Rhys peered at her. “You look a bit overwhelmed. It’s fine to take it slow. We can go over everything later if you need to take a break.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” She couldn’t be coddled. Getting in their way defeated the purpose of her presence here.

Iree’s voice was firm when she spoke again. “With this, we’ll end the war for good. Atlin’s ability to turn back time means that, if we play our cards right, we can’t lose. As implied, we can’t get careless. Does everyone here understand that?” She waited for each person to give her some form of confirmation, nods and vague grunts spreading around.

“Looks like I’ll be seeing you around after all, huh, Dorothea?” Hollyhock laughed, diffusing a bit of the tension winding through the group.

“Will it truly be that simple?” Cerid spoke up in a thoughtful tone. “Forgive me for being skeptical, but how will one person’s influence end a decade-long struggle?”

Iree arched a brow. “Did you not hear me say she can turn back time, Creed?”

Cerid was undeterred. “I heard you clearly. However, even given that factor, there are other pressing things to consider. How will we choose to engage the Ghurians from this point forward? They have become shockingly more aggressive as of late, and this is certainly tied to Miss Dorothea’s presence here.” He frowned and folded his hands. “If we stoop to their level, there is no telling how they will retaliate. And say she does die despite our best efforts. We will have become emboldened for nothing, and the Ghurians will have the perfect excuse to crush us, will they not? We should consider moving away from our tactics of defense carefully. The Ghurians have always been the aggressors. Changing this trend has important ramifications.”

An atmosphere of burgeoning optimism shifted to a heavy, contemplative tension. Even so, Iree laughed, and the air instantly lightened again. “I was getting there, Creed. Chill.” She returned her attention to Dorothea. “Do you know why this war started in the first place?”

“I know some of the details.”

Iree drummed her fingers on the table. “Tell me what you know and I’ll fill in the gaps.”

The epidemic… How to describe that day, the start of the War of Wither? That magic had spread across the land, taking lives in all three territories. Though Sirpo’s losses were small, the shock had still cut deep. She’d waited for her father’s lantern the same as always, and then the news came that he, along with the rest of his hunting party and a few others, had simply dropped dead as the magic came into contact with them. It was impossible to imagine how horrific it had to have been in Sacer to have this happening on an even wider scale. She’d been able to push her losses into a dark corner of herself, but the Sacerians had to face their mourning every day as they battled the Ghurians.

Feeling pressured with everyone’s eyes on her, Dorothea cleared her throat. “Um. Okay. So, it started with...with the epidemic. Everyone thought it was a sudden illness at first, but it was Wither magic. There was disagreement between the Ghurians and Sacerians as to what the consequences for the epidemic should be, and that led to a breach of contract on the Ghurians’ part. The breach led directly to the war.”

Iree sighed. “Yeah, I guess that’s what it boils down to. A big murdery breach of contract.” She shrugged. “It was about ten years ago after that epidemic that we made a deal with the rats to get rid of that magic.”

Dorothea’s chest was tight, but she tried not to let her discomfort show. “As in, killing off the Wither family line…?”

Iree frowned. “Yeah. I know it sounds bad. But we couldn’t let that stand, especially when another epidemic could happen. So that’s why both sides came to a mutual agreement that Wither needed to, y’know, not exist anymore. It was for everyone’s sake.”

“And that was where the breach of contract occurred.”

“Yeah. It wouldn’t have come to this if they hadn’t gone back on their word. But they left one. There’s still someone with Wither magic alive.”

“If the war is because of the existence of a single person, wouldn’t it be enough to just, um, well, eliminate that one person?” Dorothea asked. The callous words were bitter, coating her throat, but she had to wonder if things couldn’t have been resolved more simply.

Iree let out a huff. “Maybe it would have been that simple at one point, but not anymore. All because those rats went back on their word, we’ve lost…” Her face darkened with anger. “I’ll make this clear too. We aren’t the aggressors. Those rats always strike first. With you here, the time is now to put an end to all this. No more loss.” She scowled and let out a frustrated groan as she ruffled her hair with both hands. “Please direct any more questions you have to Rhys. Talking about this gets me too fired up.”

The man in question offered a sympathetic smile when Dorothea turned to him. “So, even to this day, it’s confirmed that Wither still exists?” she asked.

“Not long after the Wither Contract was carried out, our council investigated rumors that the Ghurians had left themselves one of the family line to preserve the magic and found credence in them. In terms of combat, the most recent instance of it dates back to eight months ago,” he explained. “There was an attack on a border village. Eyewitnesses reported a young Ghurian soldier killing with a single touch, and Wither is the only magic that could possibly match that description. It’s just not likely or a bet we should take that that person would have died since then.”

“I see.” She couldn’t help but wonder about this enigmatic last survivor. Just like her, they possessed an incredible, dangerous magic that had rendered them the final remaining member of their family line. What had their life been like?

A new voice cut into the conversation, cutting the path of her thoughts short. “So why didn’t you turn back time after the epidemic?”