After a night’s respite, the group recollected themselves and set back out on the road, continuing their advance towards the Khoras region. Arylos and Bellona spent time getting caught up in their time apart, trading stories and jokes. Iris could only follow behind them silently, processing what Bellona revealed to her last night.

Bellona wasn’t only a Templarian, but a Templarian who Arylos pulled the wings off of just like he did with Eir when she attacked Nageki.

Seeing Arylos do this once was jarring enough, but now to know that he did it once before a long time ago was almost scary. It can’t be that easy, right? To pull off a god’s wings. And the process left Bellona mostly mortal; missing a lot of her power and magic she had in her prime but still leaving her with a portion of her immortality.

And what was that about ‘reincarnation’? Is that whatever Eir did to survive Iris’s attack? When Iris split her skull open but when they came back later, she was alive and whole in a different looking body. Arylos never explained that to her.

“Hey Helion?” Iris reached out, not willing to interrupt the two. “What do you know about ‘Templarian Reincarnation’?”

Answer: ‘Reincarnation’ is the biological phenomena that allows Templarians to survive mortal wounds. Evolved from ancient times when the race was a warrior race leading campaigns, Reincarnation is a defence mechanism that allows the injured Templarian to survive being critically injured.

“So they basically heal their wounds? Like Arylos does?” Iris asked.

Incorrect. Templarians can quickly heal wounds dealt to them, but at a certain point, they begin to drain their own energy trying to heal. Reincarnation is a last resort. The Templarian effectively destroys their body in a violent explosion and the resulting energy is used to create a new body.

Iris remembered the smoking craters from Nageki, but this was getting too technical now. An explosion? Energy used to create a new body? She had only indirectly seen this process once before so she didn’t have a good frame of reference. Maybe she should ask Arylos and Bellona about it.

Iris was about to ask when Arylos and Bellona came to a sudden stop. Iris looked ahead and could only stare at the horror that she saw. A village that had been burnt to the ground with corpses littered about the streets and buildings. Blood baked into the wooden buildings by flames long extinguished yet fouled the air. Compared to Nageki, the appearance isn’t so different.

Arylos went ahead and examined the bodies while Bellona looked around for signs of those that committed the crime. Iris looked around, trying to find evidence of what exactly happened here; who attacked who and why.

Iris noticed that the straw roofs of the houses were pelted with arrows. More than likely, the raiders used them to set fire to the houses. She also noticed that there were no dropped weapons or any signs of the ones who did this; meaning that this was easy prey for the attackers and they suffered no casualties.

Iris eventually came up beside Arylos who was knelt down by the bodies of a man, woman, and a little girl that had been cut down; his eyes closed as if in silent prayer of some kind. After a moment, he opened his eyes and stood and looked towards Iris.

“They were defenceless,” Arylos told Iris. “This family had no weapons on them and they barely put up a struggle, but they were cut down regardless, without hesitation.”

Iris looked down and she could see Arylos clenching his fist. This upset him deep down in a way she hadn’t seen since Vorund.

“I thought we were past this,” Arylos sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I thought a hundred years of war would have taught better. And yet they’re devolving.”

“Devolving?” Iris asked, never hearing the term before.

Arylos corrected himself and cleared his throat, trying to move past it. “Don’t worry too much about it,” he told her and he went over to join Bellona. “With any luck, I’m wrong.”

Iris thought for a moment. Arylos had something on his mind, but maybe this wasn’t the best time. Iris followed after Arylos and the two rejoined with Bellona.

“Find anything?” Bellona asked.

“The villagers were unarmed and killed quickly,” Arylos answered, “if anything, this is overkill.

Iris nodded as she shared her findings about how the fires were started and how no one from the attacking group was found dead.

Bellona nodded and began to share her findings. “Judging from this trail, they were on horseback and in a medium party; I’d say between fifteen and thirty. They followed the road south from here but the tracks are pretty old.”

Arylos thought while stroking his beard. “That means at best, we’re not too far behind but can’t reach them before finding another village before they attack again.”

Iris cut in after Arylos. “Or at worst, that means they’re already attacking another village and we’ll be forever behind them.”

Bellona nodded. “I have to be pessimistic and agree with Iris here; we won’t be able to reach them in time.”

Arylos sighed and renewed his determination. “None of it matters if we don’t at least try. We owe them that much.”

Iris was partly shocked by this side of Arylos; he can be pragmatic but he was taking this personally.

Arylos set off along the southern road with the two women following him and a newfound determination burning in his chest. This was hitting too close to home for him and he felt the need to do something.

An hour on the road passes before Arylos stops suddenly, smelling the air like a dog that had picked out a scent. His walk suddenly turned into a sprint that the women behind him, the Templarian included, had issues keeping up with.

“What’s going on?” Iris called out between shallow breaths.

“Fire,” Arylos responded, “something’s burning.”

Iris caught on and picked up her pace as best as she could, drawing Helion from its sheath just in case. Bellona made her sword change into a spear and Arylos drew his blazing sword and his inhuman growls bellowed between breaths.

Iris finally saw smoke rising from the trees not far away and the group ran forward, ready for whatever they would find.

The three broke through the treeline and found they were already too late.

The village was on fire and fresh bodies littered the ground, some still squirming as the last of their strength left them.

Arylos went ahead, looking for the assailants and Bellona went around to find survivors with Iris. However, with each person the women got to, they were already dead.

Iris could only take so much of this and she felt tears welling up, desperate to find someone, anyone that was still alive.

“Please…”

A broken voice called out to Iris from a nearby house that was not on fire. She quickly went inside and found the interior of the house had been destroyed and blood covered the walls and furniture. At the far side of the room, an older man was lying against the wall, holding onto the stump where his right arm once was while still bleeding from various points on his body.

Iris dropped Helion to the ground and came over and knelt next to the man and took a strip of cloth from nearby and started tying a makeshift tourniquet on the man’s stump.

“You’ll be fine,” Iris told the man, “help is here; you’ll make it out.”

The man shook his head and rested a bloody hand on Iris’s arm. “Please,” he asked, his voice starting to fade. “They took my daughter. Find her, I beg you.”

“What’s her name?” Iris asked, still trying to tend to the man’s wounds.

“Serhas,” the man replied.

Iris nodded. “I’ll find her,” she assured, “but first let’s get you out.” She finished tying off the tourniquet and tried to get the man to stand.

Yet he wouldn’t move.

She tried pulling him up by his arm but it was limp and his legs weren’t moving.

“Come on!” Iris called out, trying to get the man to move, but still no response. Iris tried wrapping her arms around his chest to pull him up and that’s when he realised he wasn’t breathing anymore.

Iris pulled away in a shocked gasp. He had survived this long and help arrived only to fade away at the last moment.

Iris felt fresh tears welling up and she took Helion from the floor and stood up. In the distance, she could hear horses whinny and a commotion like a fight. Iris felt anger surge through her veins and she left the house and looked down the road.

She saw three men in black spiked armour riding dark horses riding towards her with Arylos in tow trying to stop them.

You’re not going anywhere, Iris thought to herself, her anger swelling out of control. Suddenly, her body erupted in white and blue flames that roared and hummed with intense power. Iris could feel the air around her change in its flow, like she had a gravity that pulled on the air itself. Her vision blurred yet through that blur, she could see the riders clearly in impeccable detail and could even sense the heat of their bodies and hear the pounding of their hearts as they saw what Iris was becoming.

Iris sounded with an inhuman growl coming from her chest and she launched herself forward in a flash, faster than the eye can track. She cleaved the horsemen and their steeds in clean pieces with their screams filling the air as the white flames exploded around her in a sharp boom.

When Iris’s vision was clear of dust, she admired the destruction; the men were cleaved and burning away in the brilliant flames. She looked down at her hands and admired the intense flames that pulsated from her skin; surging and pulsing with her heart.

But even in that brilliance, she was still crying.

A village that was outmatched and didn’t stand a chance when someone who was stronger wanted them dead. The man she tried to help, clinging on to life long enough to ask for help. How many fathers must die protecting their children? How many children must be orphaned? Homeless? Why is this happening and why is she always at the centre of it?

She was blinded by her own desire for vengeance; for the man, for Serhas, for Iris.

Iris suddenly found herself wrapped in Arylos’s arms, holding her close. All sounds around her were muffled but his voice was clear.

“I got you,” he told her in a soothing growl. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”

Arylos held onto her tighter, the white flames burning him too yet he didn’t care. He continued to try and soothe her. Iris could feel her legs get weaker. Even in all of this, she wasn’t alone, and she needed to remember that.

The white flames began to fade as Iris started breaking down in tears, holding onto Arylos as she fell to her knees and dropped Helion to the ground.

Bellona came up behind Arylos, processing this whole spectacle. The white flames consuming Iris, her immediate slaughter of the men on horses, the amount of power contained in her.

“Arylos,” Bellona called out. “What in the hell was that?”

Arylos sighed. “Not now,” he told her.

Bellona scoffed. “We have to know sooner or later,” she told Arylos. “I’ve only heard of one person who can–”

“Not now!” Arylos growled, his voice resonating through the air as he held Iris tighter and lifted her to her feet.

Bellona backed down and went to gather pieces of the armour the horsemen were wearing, hoping to find some clues among the burning corpses.

“Are you alright?” Arylos asked, keeping a tight hold on Iris.

Iris brushed away her tears and contained herself. “I’m a bit better,” she told Arylos, able to actually stand on her own this time. “Thank you for being here,” she told him.

Arylos let her go and grabbed Helion from the ground, the blade humming for a brief moment before going silent. “I would be nowhere else,” he told her with a smile and handed her Helion.

“It’s a shame she killed those guys,” Bellona cut in. “I would have preferred keeping one of them alive so we know what we’re getting into.”

“A villager’s daughter was taken,” Iris told Arylos and Bellona once she composed herself. “He said she was taken to the mountains.”

Arylos nodded, making up his mind. “Then we make camp one more time and head for the eastern mountains.”

“We’re making camp again?” Bellona asked. “Aren’t we on a schedule?”

“There’s three reasons for that,” Arylos explained. “For one, they sacked two villages in the same day and maybe more than that and we know they have prisoners. They will be slower and have to make camp to recuperate themselves, maybe even wait for those horsemen that Iris killed here before they head back.”

Arylos looked towards the mountains on the horizon. “Secondly, we don’t know these people are based out of or why so we need as much information as we can get. The eastern mountain range is large so the smaller we can make it, the better.”

Arylos then turned his gaze to Iris. “And thirdly, the last time Iris used that power, she was left immobile for days. She may be better now, but who knows what effects she will be feeling. She may only be standing due to adrenaline. We can’t operate on a maybe like that so us immortals must allow time for the mortal in our party to rest.”

The women couldn’t deny Arylos’s reasoning. Especially considering that while the two are resting, Arylos can scout ahead and try to gather more information on these attackers. If anything, this is the best option. And so the group decided to leave the burning village behind, once again empty handed and no survivors. They moved east under the cover of the trees on the opposite side of the road and made camp.

As night fell, rather than their usual joyous camp with fresh food, the group simply sat around the fire in silence; the crackling of the flames being the only sound in the night. There was a lot to unpack, a lot to process, a lot to consider. Iris had questions, Bellona had questions, Arylos had the answers.

Finally, Bellona spoke up to break the silence. “So, how is Iris able to use white flames?”

Arylos sighed, knowing what Bellona was hinting at. “Iris,” he called out, “have you ever wondered why Helion, a Templarian sword, serves your family of mortals?”

Iris nodded, “I thought it was a bit strange and Helion would only tell me that it has served my family for countless generations.”

Arylos rubbed his eyes, obviously the stress getting to him. “That it has,” he explained. “That sword belonged to an ancient ancestor of yours named Helion; one who could command light and a power over white and blue flames.”

Iris laughed lightly to herself. “Don’t tell me, Helion was actually a Templarian, which makes me a Templarian as well.”

Arylos and Bellona stared at Iris in complete silence. She felt her heart begin to race and the world close in around her as the realisation set in.

“You are,” Arylos broke the silence. “Helion was among the first generation of Templarians and you share his blood. That makes you, by extension, a Templarian. A weak one, but one nonetheless. The power is still trying to mature in you.”

Iris could feel her head spin. I’m a Templarian, she thought to herself. I’m like Bellona, like Eir, like Odin. I’m like all of them. Her mind was caught up in a spiral of its own making.

Arylos got up and took a seat next to Iris, resting his hand on hers in an attempt to steady and comfort her.

“So…I’m a god,” Iris realised.

“In a sense,” Arylos explained. “You’re still incomplete, but as the power matures, it will allow you to return to your full Templarian self. But you also have the ability to resist it and let your children inherit it instead.”

“The Templarians thought that line long dead,” Bellona cut in. “They couldn’t find the next of kin. To think that the line was still alive here on Kaiyumi and living mortal lives, that changes things.”

Arylos nodded, confirming Bellona’s observation for Iris. “And everyone before you chose to let the power continue down the bloodline so it could gain strength. And now it falls to you.”

Iris started shaking her head. “But why so suddenly? Why was I never told?”

“You couldn’t be told,” Arylos explained. “The power only manifests in the child once the previous incarnate dies. You could not know about your true nature until Gavan died. Once he did, the power began to manifest in you.”

“The sword rejected me because my father was still alive,” Iris realised. “It could not serve me because the power hadn’t grown in me while he still lived.”

Arylos nodded and suddenly the world felt upside down to Iris. This was almost too much for her; she’s a descendant of a god, making her a god herself. A long line of gods that now has come to her. And now she has to choose between using the power herself or passing it along.

“One day, you will have to choose,” Arylos explained with a wrapped arm around Iris, trying his best to keep her grounded in reality. “Choose between the life of a mortal and the life of a Templarian. To take on your Templarian nature or pass it on to your children so they and their children can face that choice. But that day isn’t today; you have plenty of time before that choice becomes relevant so focus on the here and now.”

Iris nodded. It was important and a choice she’ll have to face, but she can let tomorrow’s her come to terms with that. For now, she wanted to sleep, to think about all of this.

Bellona yawned and wrapped herself up in a blanket. “It’s not every day someone sees a living Incarnate of Helion still walking around,” she joked with the duo. “Arylos, you better teach her to control that power so she doesn’t lose control of it. If Templarius gets wind that Helion’s bloodline still lives, Odin will be the least of your worries.”

Arylos nodded, understanding Bellona’s warning. Iris couldn’t follow, but she didn’t care. Right now, her head was swimming and Arylos’s arm was comforting, enough to lull her into sleep. She will let her dreams sort all of this out for her.