The Halda was one of the Kön's tributaries that stretched from the Empire's northern border all the way to the far western reaches of the De Melvich domains. It sat just a few kilometers from Luminberg; its greenish-blue waters were wide and deep, allowing the river to manage and support all manner of naval vessels. Four transport ships lowered anchor at the nearby dock that morning. Doors lowered into ramps; several vehicles came in empty and left the vessels filled with crates of various sizes. Men in moss green attire also disembarked from one of the four vessels; salutes were exchanged between them and a few men who wore felt hats. Tight-buttoned shirts, high boots, and the rifles they carried suggested that they were more than mere guards assigned to help the ailing "City of Magical Studies".

Rook watched the busy port from his tent near Luminberg's walls. Honking horns and the sounds of shuffling engines were heard even from where he sat. There used to be deer hanging out at the riverbanks, but much of the noise drove them into the deeper reaches of the forest. A butterfly with yellow and black wings flew by; it perched on one of the wildflowers that grew on the muddy banks. Rook's eyes changed from the busy port to following this visitor who landed on the army camp's grounds. He stared at the creature, who then shifted its flight and landed on the boy's outstretched index finger.

"Beautiful, isn't it? If only humans were even a bit as pleasant as these, then you'd never have to teach them lessons with bullets." The madness-stricken voice from before spoke inside Rook's mind.

"You're the one who took over me last night. You didn't even introduce yourself and just went ahead without properly telling me."

"I just got a little too carried away there, boy. Besides, I've always wanted to destroy that green-eyed freak. Can't let that opportunity escape me again."

"What do you know about that green-eyed man anyway?" A girl's voice interrupted their conversation.

"Hey! No girls butting in on two men talking. I was expecting Metis to be a little more... polite."

"And I didn't expect a lesson on courtesy coming from Paricia, the one who barges in without warning."

"My feelings. I'm hurt."

"You're... Paricia?" Rook was staring at an entity whose form shifted from orange to a purplish shade.

"Was supposed to put a hold on introductions until Metis the killjoy spoiled my fun. The little girl's right. Paricia, the one who gave you those amazing powers last night, at your service."

"Metis is right. You should have not taken charge without me telling you to."

"But you couldn't do a thing when I got down and personal with the green-eyed freak."

"You... do you know him?"

"He's the... you know what, I don't think you're ready for it." Paricia said, "If you can call on mine and the others' strengths at once, maybe I'll tell you what I know."

"Hey... wait. Paricia..."

††

"Hey Rook, you're all right?"

It was Kirk, holding a metal bowl that had something herb and meat-smelling in it. He handed the young man a large aluminum mug containing what seemed to be the same soup.

"Hey. Thanks. Just in time. I'm fine. Yeah."

"You sure? You're kind of out of it when I saw you. It's a beautiful river. Can't blame you."

"You're right." Rook scratched his head before holding the metal vessel in his hands. "You've seen Euphemia?"

"I was about to tag you along, but the soldiers said she's doing well." Kirk started slurping on his bowl. He was chewing when he continued saying, "not that I can question what they're telling me."

"We have to believe them, I guess."

"We can't leave her in this camp on her own, even if we don't take their word for it. Among the three of us, she's the one who knows the most around these parts. I've got a lot of questions in mind, but I'll start with the most important ones. Since you've been around with her longer than I, how did the two of you meet?"

"It's a pretty crazy story, really. I met her at someplace, I think south of where we are. Far south."

"I wouldn't count on you to read the writings in this place. And the both of you understood each other?"

"She spoke to me in Continental. I guess Euphemia knew I am not from here."

"Got to admit, you have a good enough grasp of it. I don't think you're from the Western Isles either. I live there, so I should know what the people in that country look like. At least, most of them."

"I can't say you're wrong. I live in the far north. At least, I remembered having lived much of my life there."

"Fleeing from bad memories?"

"I don't know. I just felt like running away from there. I guess that's part of what I want to answer myself."

"At least you're not running away to forget." Kirk set aside his bowl on the ground. Much of its contents were consumed; only a white film that glinted against the sun told the story of what kind of soup it contained. "Quite unlike me."

"You ran away from what?"

"You'll fall asleep if I give you the full answer. Let's say that my family was driven out of our home. I'm the only one left alive to carry on the name."

"I wish I didn't ask that. Will you come back there?"

"So that what, I can claim vengeance? Nobody's coming back to life anyway. But I don't know yet really. I'd probably have to tag along with you two to find out."

"What do you want to do now?" Rook tapped the bottom of his mug. He was too busy putting every morsel in his mouth to look at Kirk.

"I don't have an answer to that. I know a family in this country. I think they can help if they still know me."

"You'll be having it tough, I think."

"Don't worry about that. I think we have our fill." Kirk stood up and began patting his pant legs. "We should go to see Sister Euphemia and check if she really is what the soldiers here say."

"Hopefully she's more than okay. I don't feel too good being watched over by an army."

"You're not the only one feeling that way."