It took several seconds for Dallion to readjust to the real world once he left the realm of the shrine. The sensation was different from a normal return. Thanks to his experience and current level, he had learned to seamlessly go in and out of realms, but even so, there would be an occasional hiccup.

“You’ve improved,” Cleric said. “How long were you in there?”

In the real world only a few moments had gone by. However, the albino wasn’t merely an average cleric.

“A few hours.” Dallion decided there was no point in lying. “A lot happened.”

“I can tell. Did you get to talk to your Moon?”

“Yes.” Dallion stepped away from the altar. “Thanks, I owe you one.”

“I’ll be sure to remind you at some point. Come along, the altar is scheduled for use soon.”

What do I do now? Dallion wondered as he followed Cleric through the cathedral corridors.

As far as he was concerned, everything was going well, better than well even. Dark had passed through the second gate, transforming from a dragonlet to a full dragon. In terms of strength and appearance, he seemed no different from how he had been a few hours ago. The only difference was that now he no longer needed external help to level up. This was an interesting detail that was missing from the magical bestiary tome Dallion had obtained.

There was a moment during which there were fears that Dark might become too full of himself, but a few words from Harp had quickly changed that; he might have become a full dragon, but the nymph remained a dragon slayer. Whatever future training she had in mind, it was certain to keep the creature in check and prevent him from causing any chaos in Dallion’s domain.

The achievement Dallion had received was quite nice, increasing his empathy trait to thirty-five. All that was supposed to make him overjoyed, but instead he felt hollow inside.

“Meeting a Moon is always a life-changing experience,” Cleric said, completely misinterpreting the situation. “Don’t think about it too much. Just let it pass on its own.”

Dallion nodded.

“Have you spoken to a Moon?”

“Just once,” the albino replied with a slight sigh. “Back when the Order accepted me as one of its own. Since then, I’ve only been praying.”

That sounded harsh, considering how much more devoted Cleric was. Dallion felt that he had stumbled on the Green Moon undeserved.

“What did it tell you?” Dallion asked.

“That one day I might regain my name.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed.” You deserve that much. “What exactly does one have to do to join the Order?”

“You’re thinking of joining?” The albino gave Dallion a surprised look.

Despite its overall political strength, the Order of the Seven Stars was generally viewed as a last resort. Most of the people going there did it out of necessity rather than choice. The monasteries, in particular, were safe havens that allowed everyone a second chance in the service in the Moons. People often had their names erased, and along with them, their past history, not to mention that anyone caught trying to harm a member of the order, regardless of circumstances, would pay a heavy price.

“I’m just curious. My parents considered sending me to a monastery before I awakened, so I was wondering what that would be like.”

“All you have to do is devote your entire life to the Moons. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Aren’t I doing it now?”

“No. Being an initiate means you live for yourself, but can be called upon by the Moons or the Order to help out in specific circumstances. Being a cleric means that everything you do is for the Moons and the Moons alone.”

“I don’t think I can manage that.”

“I know. It’s not for everyone.

Dallion was pretty sure that given a choice, the albino wouldn’t have been here, either. Something quite traumatic must have happened in his life to seek shelter in the Order. Even without the skill for spells, awakened were valuable. Just having the magic trait would probably be enough to have him snatched by one guild or another. The Icepickers definitely would have recruited him; no doubt there were a lot in Linatol that would have done the same.

As much as Dallion wanted to ask more details on the topic, he felt it was better not to. A strong sense of defensiveness was emanating from Cleric, making it obvious this wasn’t a topic he wanted to discuss.

“Do you know anything about the Eighth Moon?” The question slipped out of Dallion’s lips, almost as if it were said by someone else.

The moment it was a voice both he and the albino froze. Bursting into instances, Dallion looked in both directions of the corridor they were walking along. Cleric did the same, only relying on his reflexes, instead of splitting.

“Never say that in a temple,” he whispered.

“Sure.” What got into me?

“There is no Eighth Moon,” the albino added. “Make sure to remember that.”

So, it really exists, Dallion thought.

Better listen to his advice and keep this to yourself, dear boy, Nil said. Even favored of the Moons are known to disappear.

You think the Order might try to kill me? Dallion felt a chill down his spine.

What about “disappear” is unclear? No one knows exactly what happens. The only thing for certain is that it’s best you don’t find out.

The rest of the trip to the outside passed without a word. Upon reaching the exits some goodbyes were said, along with vague promises of meeting up again, after which Dallion set off to meet March and Eury at their inn. He had a vague memory of having an argument of sorts with the gorgon, but after so many things happening since then, no longer felt invested. To a certain degree, he found it better this way: at least they’d be able to focus on the mission. There would always be time to discuss matters later.

Walking through the districts, Dallion quickly noticed what a huge change the five levels of empathy had caused. Not only did he feel as if he could hear every guardian within the platform, but a sizable number of the guardians were able to feel his presence as well.

You really are a weird one, a new voice said. Didn’t think there were any of you left.

Who are you? Dallion asked, glancing around.

He was on the edge of a city park, and the few buildings visible in the vicinity didn’t feel like having guardians. It was always possible that the voice belonged to an item guardian, but somewhat it emanated a lot more authority.

Are you the area guardian of the forest?

Good guess, but wrong, the voice replied. Would it help if I told you that we’ve already met?

There were many things that the hint could lead to, but Dallion immediately had a good idea who he was addressing.

You’re the overseer, he said.

And city guardian. I expect after what happened in Nerosal you’d hardly be surprised. The information you’ve acquired isn’t exactly general knowledge. Most awakened spend their entire lives never linking the two.

Dallion considered his next words carefully. The only reason an overseer could have to address him directly was to ask for something.

How may I be of service, overseer?

For the moment, just stay out of trouble. I expect you already know what.

Do I need your permission to contact the mirror pool?

I’d advise against trying. The pool isn’t what you’re used to. In fact, this is one of things I wanted to specifically talk to you about. You and your team have done a good job keeping a blocker ring on at all times. As mercenaries, you’re allowed to do so. However, I’d appreciate it if you take them off while walking about. It only raises questions.

I’ll be sure to pass it along.

I know you will. You’re an empath, after all. Soft laughter echoed in Dallion’s head. What do you think of the city so far?

It’s definitely impressive, not that I’ve had a chance to see much of it so far.

That’s the standard complaint. Either you’re born here, or there’s always more to see. Hopefully, you’ll get another chance sometime.

The conversation seemed harmless enough, but Dallion knew it wasn’t. If this were any other guardian, he’d chalk it down to boredom. Spending millennia locked in their items, nearly all of the banished races wanted to have a conversation with someone. Part of them even went feral in the process. However, when it came to overseers, that wasn’t the case. For one thing, they were human before taking on the role, not to mention that even after their transformation, they got to walk among people, and converse with anyone they wished.

Is there anything more you can tell me about my mission? Dallion asked.

Plenty. Most of it, you’ve already guessed. You’re not the first ones to be sent after the item owner, although you are a lot more special.

Did any of the previous ones die?

There wasn’t an immediate answer. Dallion kept on walking for half a minute without response. By all accounts, it seemed that the conversation had ended when the overseer himself emerged from within the park. As usual, he was dressed in a black set of clothes. Half of his face was covered by a masque.

“A very practical question,” the overseer said. “Aren’t you curious why you were chosen for the task? Especially with so much available talent in the city itself?”

“I prefer to know what happened to those before us.”

“Fair point. Some died, some failed, some vanished.”

“How many failed?”

“Not many.” The man’s lips cracked into a smile. “All sorts were sent: hunters, former legionaries, mages…”

“Anyone from the Order?”

“The Order was never approached. You can imagine why.”

Dallion nodded. From what he has seen, the Order of the Seven Moons had a tendency to want all dangerous toys for itself. Sometimes there was a reason for that.

“Any other questions?” the overseer asked.

“No.” Dallion shook his head.

“In that case, let me tell you something. Make use of it as you will.” He took a step closer. “You aren’t meant to reclaim the item,” the man whispered. “Just to try.”

I knew it, Dallion thought. It wouldn’t be the first time someone was using a mission as an excuse to get rid of potential competition. It was also entirely possible that the target was someone else in the group. March was the obvious choice, although as a hunter, Eury could also have stacked up enemies.

“I’d tell you to keep that to yourself, but at this point, it doesn’t particularly matter.” The overseer turned around, walking away. “See you at the banquet, empath. Get some sleep until then.”

A blink of the eye later, Dallion was alone again.

That sly old fox, Nil grumbled. He only choses to share information when he knows it won’t change the outcome.

You think we’ll fail?

I definitely hope not. That’s not the point, dear boy. Succeed or fail. Nothing of what he has said will help or hinder you. That’s why he did it. You’re still young, but sooner or later you’ll have to start paying attention to the games of politics. Sometimes the strength of a move is the move itself.

You know I have no idea what you’re talking about, right? Dallion was starting to get slightly annoyed.

He was fully aware that there was something else at play. It wasn’t bigger than the Star or the plague, but different; as if a group of people had integrated the end of the world into a personal game of their own that they refused to stop.

I’ll never understand nobles, Dallion said.

Ideally, that would be a good thing. Unfortunately, there will come a time when you’ll have to. As the saying goes, all high-level awakened take part in the game. The difference is that some of them are merely pieces.