The Sekumaeya was a desert like many others. Plains of sand stretching from horizon to heat-soaked horizon, littered with dips and dunes that promised shade but never provided it. A sky-blue dome, never so much as touched by a wisp of white clouds, held the baking sands in place and kept the winds at bay. Other deserts, however, were never referred to as the Infinite Inferno.

The average temperature of the Sekumaeya was enough to blister the skin, and even cool drinks only lowered that temperature to something barely tolerable. It stretched for weeks in every direction from its epicenter, located along the equatorial line, and the only respite from the all-consuming heat were oases so scattered and scarce that finding one took a knowledge of the desert no one had ever dared gather. Luckily, their destination lay at the southeastern corner of the desert along the coast, which meant that they only had a few more days of scorched skin and sand before the cooling breeze of the sea. That fact was hardly comforting at the time.

“Remind me again,” Orion said as they trudged through their third day, “Why we decided it would be best to walk?”

“The Guild labeled the area as unfit for habitation,” Kean said. “If we’d brought carriages for anything other than our gear and supplies they would have flagged us down by now.”

“Right.” He took a few more steps through the sand, noting that he’d soon need to empty out his boots again. “But why did we decide to walk?”

“Because we have not yet mastered flight,” Sarah said. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling us about your armor, Orion.”

Some managed to laugh, but it was hard to do in the oppressive heat. Tyr took the opportunity, even though he felt like he could barely breathe. He took every opportunity to show he could feel, unlike Kensei who thought that the display of emotion was best left for the privacy available only in solitude and with close friends. Mid-chuckle, an Akura Vashimu emerged from the sand almost directly in front of them. They encountered something like it at least three times a day, and it was only their vastly superior numbers which kept them going steadily.

True to expectations, the entire party worked very well together, although Tyr and Kean did crowd each other on occasion. They’d said nothing about it, taking the few hits per battle as gracefully as each could manage, and neither had yet to cause a major incident.

“Were you trying to get me killed back there, Tyr?” Kean asked when the Vashimu was dead.

“I was hoping to get the Vashimu, actually,” Tyr replied. “I think I did a pretty good job of it.”

“If you knocking me to my knees a few seconds before its tail beam struck was your attempt at killing it, then perhaps we should give you barrel bombs instead and have you attack like a Felyne. At least then we’d all be able to hear you coming.”

“Excuse me?” Tyr stood up straight, leaving his carving knife half-buried in the fallen Akura. “I was midway through my swing when you leapt in the way, and unless I missed something about your fighting style you could just as easily have rolled with the blow instead of bruising your ego on the sand.”

“Roll with an attack sweeping at my knees? I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not a Wyverian. My legs don’t bend that way.” The Monoblos-clad hunter stepped up, his face an inch from Tyr’s. “Do you honestly think I don’t see what’s going on here? You might have my wife fooled with your carefree attitude, but I know your kind.”

There was a metallic noise somewhere Tyr couldn’t pinpoint as he clenched his fists. “My kind? You mean the only kind who volunteered to save your city from the Jhen?”

There was a heat between them, more real and palpable than anything in the Sekumaeya. “A fight you only survived through my expertise and command.” The heat gave off a clicking noise that quickly turned into a loud hum. “I don’t really think you’re fit to l-“

The explosive burst from Adaline’s switchaxe sent them rocketing away from each other. Somewhere over the crunching sand and clanging armor, Tyr swore he could hear Orion laughing. Sarah couldn’t help but giggle herself, even as her sister slid back to a stop. “That’s better,” Adaline said, “You boys need to learn to save that sort of stuff for when we’re not trying to find a city that may not even exist anymore.”

“It exists,” Kean spat, the words coming out heavy with sand. “And don’t you ever do that again.”

“Then kindly keep your opinions to yourself until we’re safe. Tyr hasn’t killed you yet, and until he has none of us want to hear about it. Same goes for you, Tyr.” Although Kean looked to his wife for support, she was nodding along with her sister. Tyr was humbled enough that he couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze.

“Very well,” Kean said, doing his best to remove the rest of the sand from his already parched mouth. “But when we get to Mezaporta…”

“Yes, yes,” she cut him off. “You can fight each other all you like then.”

Sarah caught up with Kensei. She’d been doing her best to figure out the proper way to talk with him, since figuring out what he meant was as close to deciphering another language as Sarah had come. “The wind and the mountain,” Kensei said in greeting. “One howls his hardest but cannot make the other hear. The other stands motionless, knowing not how to move or why he should.”

Her method had thus far been to only discuss what was actually said, but she couldn’t help but find the metaphor this time. “But why can’t the wind learn to go around the mountain?” she asked. “He must know it would be easier.”

“Changing the wind is as simple as halting the rain, or calming the desert’s fury. Is the mountain so powerful?”

“I don’t know,” she said. Her gaze wandered between Kean and Tyr. Which one, she wondered, did Kensei think was the mountain? Which one the wind? They could both be stubborn and strong, both dedicated to a path that they would not let go of. More important to her though was whether she wanted to soar high above the mountain, perhaps as far as Sol, or rest her wings in its shady trees.

She shook herself out of her thoughts. There was no decision to make. Any life she might’ve had away from Kean had been sealed away in some distant place, one of the towers the Ancients had left perhaps. There were stories about those towers, about the temples, and even the one city they’d left behind.

“Out across the sands, over hills of verdant green and mountains of chilled blue, in a land forgotten by time itself there stands a tower that was once home to those people we call our ancestors. The Ancients. They built it for a purpose no one knows, and abandoned it in a time no one can recall, but now it is a place where only the most foolish of hunters go, because it is said that no one has made it all the way to the top and returned alive.” Orion knew the old stories better than anyone, and everyone had needed the distraction that evening.

“Why haven’t they ever returned alive?” Adaline asked, knowing that Orion had a penchant for interactivity.

“No one knows. Some claim that it’s a portal to another world, a one-way gate that the men who built it used to escape before the end of their civilization. Others claim that a creature unlike any other discovered lives atop that tower, and that it kills those who reach it. Some even say that the tower simply has no top, and that foolish hunters continue to climb towards nothing to this very day.”

“Surely the Guild has investigated it by now,” Kean said, folding his arms across his chest.

“If they have, they’ve been letting hunters go to their deaths for no reason. Not that there’s anything new about that,” Orion said, trying to get back to his story.

“Why is it you three despise the Guild so much?” Kean asked. “I know that it’s because of you,” he added, looking right at Tyr. “I understand that much, even if how you convinced the other two is beyond comprehension. Yes, the Guild has made your life harder for not following their rules, but they are the law for hunters of every stripe. Their rules have made this world a better place. They have organized and regulated hunting to keep the balance of humans and monsters at sustainable levels. They have created a universal standard of crafting so that hunters and the common people never need to worry about the quality of their smith, and found the ore combinations necessary to keep hunters from cutting each other into ribbons with careless strikes. They have even catalogued the habits and territories of every great beast from the Bulldrome to the Fatalis to make certain that anyone can be prepared for the dangers of this world before they ever go out into it. So what, praytell, is your problem with the organization that has singlehandedly made this world a bearable place to live in?”

Strong silence followed. It was easy to list personal slights and negative experiences, but even Tyr would be hard-pressed to argue with what Kean had said. The Guild may have demanded much, and taken away everything he had, but what they’d given the world was impossible to deny. Still, it was harder not to be selfish when they’d already set themselves out on a path like this.

“I suppose it’s because they seem infallible,” Adaline said. “No matter what the Guild does or how they do it, they rule the whole world and so it’s impossible to say they’re wrong. They’ve done a lot for all of us, but they’ve also done it for themselves.”

“Everyone does things for themselves, Addy,” Sarah said. “That doesn’t make the Guild evil. If people weren’t selfish then we’d never do anything for the ones we love.”

“They still had no right to try and kill Tyr,” Adaline said, pushing herself back into Tyr’s arms. “And I’ll never forgive them for that.”

Kean looked skeptical. “They tried to kill you? How do you know?”

“Their assassin told me himself.”

“You must be the dumbest hunter in all of the Old Continent.” Adaline bristled at the comment, but Tyr just pulled her tighter to him. “Some person with a grudge says the Guild sent him to kill you and you just believed him? You didn’t think that maybe he was lying to you? That only a truly bad assassin would tell you the name of his employer, especially in front of royalty he then let escape?”

“I’ve thought about that,” Orion said, drawing all eyes back to himself again. “He wasn’t the kind of guy to make up excuses for his actions, and he was always the first to light a Guild Torch when a hunt was over.”

“But you say he was in the guard for how many years before this incident?” Kean retorted.

“That’s what doesn’t make sense,” Orion said, drawing a line in the sand. “The Guild has so many assassins out there that they wouldn’t need to hide one in the city guard. And, even if they did, they didn’t need to use him to kill Tyr. It’s not like we wouldn’t have all known who it was.”

“Precisely. It doesn’t add up. The whole idea is ludicrous. What reason would the Guild even have for wanting someone like you dead?”

“I can tell you that,” Tyr said. “I’m proof that good people don’t need the Guild; they just need other good people.”

“Do you honestly think the Guild does away with anyone who might be a positive influence outside of their own ranks?” Kean’s muscles tensed. “Or that you being a village hero was somehow unique?”

“Kean,” Sarah started, but he waved her off.

“Every village between Pokke and Moga seems to have some local hero nowadays. They all go out and fight the monsters that others cannot or will not. Some do it with permission, and some do it without, but the Guild keeps track of all their hunts and allows them to continue so long as they don’t take their antics too far. You are not one amongst the millions, Tyr. You are just another hunter.”

“If not them, then who? Who wants me killed and, more importantly, why have me killed, Kean?” Tyr asked.

“I don’t believe the Guild wanted you dead. I don’t know who did. But, if anyone did, and if I had to pick just one reason, it would be this: You’ve disrupted royal tradition for personal pleasure.”

“You don’t know a thing,” Adaline practically spat.

“Don’t I? What other reason is there for all of us to be in the middle of this godforsaken desert if it isn’t because he needs to become a Legend now because he wouldn’t marry you when he had the chance?”

Adaline couldn’t think of anything to say to that. That wound was still fresh.

“I don’t know when all of this started for you, but I know that it should have ended the day they sent you away from Nifila. They sent you away to spare you from the pain of watching your village adapt to a life without you as their primary defense. They helped you escape from the mire of guilt that you would’ve wallowed in, and from the flood of pained expressions on the faces of your friends and family. After every law you broke and every time you spat in their face, the Guild showed you mercy. They showed you more forgiveness for actual crimes than you have for their imagined ones. And you have repaid them with this,” he gestured to where Tyr and Adaline sat, both still a bit dumbstruck. “This blatant display of disregard for how the world is meant to be.”

“Kean,” Sarah said again, grabbing his hand. “That’s enough.”

“It is,” Kean agreed, standing to leave. “I’ll see you all in the morning. We’ve still days to go before our destination.”

It wasn’t long after that the Untitled reached the beach. The gentle, rolling waves and the salt-rich scent of the air worked wonders on their muscles, sore from constant battles through the unforgiving desert. While the boys were content to simply strip off their armor and wade into the surf in their undergarments, Sarah and Adaline lay themselves out on the beach on their blankets. For a very long time, they just watched the boys splashing each other or floating around while they soaked in the warming rays of Sol.

“I heard that Lior showed up to see you and your husband,” Adaline said, her voice just loud-enough to be heard over the ocean.

“She did. It was nice to see Plaka, Degin, and Curro. Plaka’s grown so much since he left.”

“I’m sorry that Lior was in such a foul mood.”

“She’s always in a foul mood,” Sarah said. “What’s snow really like? I’ve heard the stories from the dignitaries, but you know how they can be.”

“You remember the ice crystal earrings and necklaces we used to buy to keep us cool? Snow is every bit as cold as those crystals, and it covers everything it touches. It sticks to your armor and clothes, then melts into frigid water that makes them cling to your body. Any wind at all makes you feel like you could freeze solid.”

“It sounds dreadful. How did you ever survive?”

“There are a lot of ways to keep warm in the north. They’ve had to invent them, just like we needed ways to keep cool. Traders give most anything for firestone and fur. It wasn’t terrible though. The snow makes everything the most brilliant white, and it glitters like it’s made of light.”

“Kean and I visited the jungle during the winter. It doesn’t snow, but it does rain incessantly. That’s where we went to fight the Hypnocatrice for my arrows.”

“It seems like a waste of feathers to me. Aren’t Hypnocs usually hunted for their sleep sacs? That seems much more useful for arrows than just the feathers.”

Sarah giggled a bit. “Actually, the feathers are what archers use to channel our chakra properly. Hypnoc feathers are some of the best in the world because once they’ve stiffened they’re nearly impossible to break.”

“I didn’t think Kean would ever settle for anything less than the best.”

“He wouldn’t at first. I can still remember him arguing with me about trying to find and hunt down a Wikoatl. In the end, the only thing that convinced him was that they weren’t in season.”

“I’m sure the fact that only a handful of groups have ever returned from hunting one successfully was hardly an issue,” Adaline said as she rolled herself onto her stomach and undid her top. “Then again, the two of you work well together.”

“No moreso than you and Tyr. Something you proved to us with that Diablos hunt.” She rolled over as well, staring over at her sister. “Do you carve everything you kill, Addy?”

“Of course I do. Don’t you?”

“I do, but I haven’t decided on why.”

“The materials are always useful to someone,” Adaline said with a shrug. “So, I would rather they went to those who needed them.”

“The Guild makes certain enough of that. You don’t need to as well.”

“I don’t want to talk about the Guild again. Besides, I can always fashion what I gather into a new outfit if no one needs it.”

“Most monster materials are too valuable to be given away. Do you really need that many outfits?”

“I have to keep Tyr interested somehow.” There was a smile in her voice that Sarah knew, even if it wasn’t plastered across her face.

“I’d think he wouldn’t need that sort of thing.”

“He doesn’t,” she said, a little more gently. “But, I like dressing up and he likes to see me do it.” Adaline turned her gaze from Sarah to the boys. “I don’t see the harm in doing things that make us both happy. Do you?”

“No. I just… Do you think that Tyr is the wind or the mountain?”

Adaline almost laughed. “What? You’ve been talking with Kensei too much.”

“Perhaps,” she admitted, looking out at the surf. The boys were all laughing at something or another, even Kensei. “But he said that Tyr and Kean were like the wind and the mountain. One too stubborn to move, the other too stubborn to change his course. Which do you think Tyr is?”

“I guess… I don’t really think he’s either.”

Sarah waited for her sister to go on, to say whatever it was she was thinking while they both watched Tyr swimming through the sparkling surf. It seemed like an eternity to her, waiting on the meaning behind her sister’s words, but hunting was a game of patience.

“It doesn’t really matter to me which one anyone thinks he is. He’s Tyr.”

“That’s not fair, Addy.”

“Maybe it isn’t, but it’s how I see it. What made you ask, anyways?”

“I guess I just wanted a second opinion.”

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to steal him from me.”

“No, I-“

“Because he’s mine.”

“I know th-“

“And I plan to keep it that way. No matter what it costs me.”

“And what about what it costs our family?”

“If all goes well,” Adaline said, pinning up her top again as she stood and headed for the waves. “Then that won’t be anything.”

“But what if it is something?” Sarah asked, just before she would’ve had to shout it to be heard.

Adaline didn’t respond to her. She didn’t stop until she’d waded out, grabbed Tyr by the lips with her own, and fell with him into the surf.

For days they walked along the seaside, battling carapaceons and the occasional piscine wyvern, but they were grateful for every ocean breeze, every day not spent in the direct inferno of the Sekumaeya. Eventually though, they saw the Diamut Mountains on the horizon. Buried in those mountains was the once-powerful city of Mezaporta, a central hub for hunters in the Age of Discovery. During those eighty years, Guild researchers and hunters found, rediscovered, and documented well over a hundred breeds of monsters, and explored the southern continent, known as the New Continent. It was also the city where the eastern hunters from Yukumo first visited the Old Continent, trading their time-tested secrets for acceptance and new technology.

Now though, Mezaporta was just a desolate city that the stubborn and the poor refused to give up on. It was impossibly large; so most of the city had been long left to the winds of chance and the beasts that would not relent in reclaiming their territory. Even the Guild had abandoned their outpost there. No one in the group could quite believe that the tiny circle of huts and shops was all that there was to this place mentioned in nearly every childhood storybook. Not that their belief would have changed anything.

"Welcome to Mezaporta," Tyr said, his disappointment more obvious in his voice than his face. "The gateway of history."

As they approached the main circle, no one welcomed them, no one waved, no one so much as took a second glance. Every townsperson was dressed in full armor, their weapons hanging from straps that were worn with overuse. "Is this really Mezaporta?" Adaline asked. "It seems so..."

"Empty?" a voice from just inside the weaponsmith's shop called out. "Because if you're looking for anything more, I suggest you get yourselves on a boat to Yukumo."

They waited for a moment for someone to emerge, but the smith seemed to be content in her secrecy. When it was obvious no one was going to come out, Kean stepped towards the shop. "I am Pr… I am Kean. Who, might I ask, am I speaking to?"

"You speak to Lao-Shan Lung."

"Lao-Shan Lung? I’m impressed. That is quite the title to have earned."

"Who says it’s my title?" Lao-Shan Lung said, still keeping to the shadows. "You asked who you were speaking to, and I answered. What brings you to Mezaporta?"

"We have come to train, and to learn," Kean said. "We had hoped to find the city where Legends were born. Obviously, we were mistaken."

A soft but dark chuckling came from the tent. "Perhaps you are at that. Tell me, Kean, what is the strongest beast you've felled?"

"The Jhen Mohran," he replied.

"Then Mohran is your name here," Lao-Shan said, and Adaline giggled. "What of you, giddy little girl? What name will you claim?"

"Dyura," Adaline said.

"The Jhen Mohran for me too," Orion said.

"Tigrex," Sarah added.

Kensei looked to Tyr, but since he was silent the Sword Saint said, "The dark brute, Deviljho."

Even as all eyes turned on him, Tyr did not speak. "And you?" Lao asked patiently. "What monster would you claim?"

When it looked as though his leader would never reply, Orion opened his mouth to speak, but Tyr's hand was up before he could get through his first word. "Genprey," he said, and even Kean couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Tyr," Orion said. "Come on, man. You were there for the Jhen, the Dyura, that Brachydios."

"I know very well what I’ve been present to fight, Orion. I also know that wasn't what Lao-Shan Lung asked us."

"Well, I mean if you only want to count things you've killed yourself then at least say the Los or something."

"I haven’t done a solo hunt in a long time."

“But what about all your times in the arena? The Sand Barioth! The Monoblos!”

“You know as well as I do that arena fights aren’t against monsters at full capacity.”

“But it’s on your Guild Card!”

“What makes you think we recognize Guild Cards here?” Lao-Shan Lung stepped out from the shadows of the shop. The smith was tall for a human, dressed in the full armor of her namesake, and sporting a hammer crafted from one of its giant talons, dyed a deep red. She looked over Tyr and his group, but ended up with her eyes resting on Kean. "Well, Mohran, it seems you've at least brought a couple worthy warriors with you. If you want to stay, you'll build your own houses, keep the city safe from any attack, and you'll hunt until you've broken every bone in your body, until you can barely lift your weapons, and then you'll keep on hunting with those broken bones and useless blades until you meet something you can't match. That's how we live around here. No more Legends, no more tall tales. This is Mezaporta, and if you think killing a Jhen Mohran makes you anyone around here, then you'd better get in line."

"Build our own houses?" Kean asked. "Out of what?"

"That's up to you, Mohran. I'm the best and only weaponsmith in town. You've got your armorsmith on the other end, an item shop, and a gathering hall."

"I thought the Guild abandoned Mezaporta," Sarah said, peeking in the direction that their dark-skinned guide had just pointed.

"They did, but they didn't take their buildings with them, Tigrex"

"Oh," Sarah blushed. "Of course."

"And how are we supposed to construct our own homes?" Kean asked again. "You expect all of us to have experience with construction?"

"No. But if you plan to live here it is a skill you should acquire."

"You don't have someone that's trained to do it already?”

"Every person in Mezaporta is trained to do it, but if you think we have the time to build you a home just because you walked into town, then you might be as stupid as the wyverns you've killed."

"Lao!" A voice called out from behind them, and twins in a mash-up of armors that were hardly identifiable at a glance came rushing up. "We've got a problem in the canyon. Stampede."

"Of?"

"Apceros."

"And?"

"They're headed straight this way!" the second twin shouted, slightly more upset about the whole ordeal.

"Right." Lao-Shan took one look at the twins, then shrugged. "You heard them, Mohran. Pick a team and go take care of it."

"What exactly do you want me to do about a stampede?" Kean asked.

"I want you to make certain they don't run right through our city.” Despite having Kean named as their group leader, everyone instinctively looked towards Tyr, but he just shrugged.

"You heard her," he said. "Mohran's in charge."

Kean almost growled at the name, but he knew he didn't have much time as it was. "Kensei, Sarah, Orion. You're with me."

The four of them took off, following the twins in the direction of the canyon while Lao continued talking to Tyr and Adaline. Sarah only looked back over her shoulder once as they raced across the open plateau, just once as the path began falling down; Tyr had his arm around Adaline again, and Sarah could do nothing about it.

Down and down, further and further they went, until the unmistakable red army was in view, kicking up dust so thick it was impossible to imagine the full size of the herd. "What's our plan, fearless leader?" Orion asked as he measured their options. There wasn't really much in the way of anything to use around them. They were stuck between two cliff faces, with the city behind them and the herd in front. "Because I'm not really seeing much."

Kean shook his head and looked to the twins, but they were already running the other way. Apparently, their duty was done. "We need to get them to stop running," he said. "If we can stop the front line then the rest won't be able to get past."

"Great plan." Orion hesitated. "How are we gonna do that?"

The herd was less than a minute away already, and at the speed they were travelling they'd be at Mezaporta in less than ten. Kean was rapidly formulating plans when an arrow rocketed past his head and bounced off the thick, armored shell of the lead Apceros. "Sarah!" he shouted, but she was already adjusting her aim for another shot. "You should wait for my command!"

His wife nodded, but said no more as she let another arrow loose. This one flew true, impaling the stupid beast and dropping it in the path of its brethren. Many behind it stumbled and crashed over the carcass, but there wasn't enough time for Sarah to down as many as they would need. Kean drew his blade, and charged at the herd. “Form a wall!” Orion and Kensei followed, and together they cut the legs out from almost a dozen Apceros while rolling and diving to avoid being trampled. But it never quite got easier.

Apceros poured in through the gaps between the piles, and soon Sarah could only weave herself back and forth with no time to aim. Dust flew into the air so thickly that visibility was reduced to nothing and Sarah had only fractions of a second between dodging one beast and another emerging from the cloud behind it. Just how many wild Apceros could there be in one remote area of the desert, she wondered. Or was the entire desert's population suddenly concentrated in this valley?

She thought these things only because she had time for little else. Weaving in and out of the Apceros was so natural to her now that she hardly remembered a time when it wasn't. She did remember the words though, words about fighting being a dance with her opponents, and her memories took her feet back to that rapid dance she had only barely grown accustomed to. The earth trembling beneath her feet, the dust clouding her eyes, coating her mouth, filling her nose, and even the rising heat of the animals rushing past her were all secondary to a dance that outran them all.

"Sarah." Kean's voice cut through her memories, and her mind snapped back to the present. The herd hard been split. The dust was still thick, but the bleating of the Apceros piled up below was enough to let her know that no more could get through that wall of sound. She stopped dancing, thankful for the red cloud she was otherwise lost in.

"I'm here, Kean."

"We need to follow them," he said as he rushed past her, less than a foot away. Did he have the ability to see in this dust? She knew that his armor gave him a sixth sense about the location of large monsters he was looking for, but had he honed it to the point where he could find other things without sight as well? It wasn't unheard of - hunters pushing the limits of what was known to be possible - but Kean had given no indication of the ability before now. There wasn't time to ask, only to run back up the canyon, choking on dust as they went along.

When they neared town they slowed again, because the sound of bleating was thick in the air again. A strong and sudden gust rushed past them, belting them with the heavy red dust, and when they were finally able to wipe the sand from their eyes all were able to see the enormous hole they'd stopped only a few meters from themselves.

On the other side of the canyon-sized hole filled with dead, dying, and struggling Apceros was Adaline. "You did alright, Mohran."

“They had the whole time?” Kean asked, his hand twitching.

“Yup. Lao was surprised you didn’t ask about the town’s available defenses before rushing off.

“She might have… where is she?”

“She took Tyr up the mountain.” Adaline paused, uncertainty creeping into her voice. “To get him a better name.”

The mountain nearest Mezaporta was officially name Kokudriscol. "But, to anyone local," Lao-Shan explained, "it's Dry Skull Mountain."

"Why the nickname?"

"Because there are bones here that crumble when touched, because the mountain sees less than a finger of rain per year, and because it's shorter." She smiled at Tyr then, a dark but charming smile, like a wyvern in human form. "Do you know why I brought you up here, Rhennox?"

Tyr looked between the twins on either side of him for help, but they were silent. "A test," he replied. "You want to know what kind of hunter I am."

"A good guess, but no. We are here to test you, that much is true, but I am far more interested in finding out what kind of man you are."

"I thought Mezaporta didn't care about such things. Only what you can do, not who you are." Tyr clicked his tongue. "Seems like false advertising."

"Meza doesn't," she replied, "but I do."

The four of them, Lao, Tyr, and the twins, continued walking for a while in silence up the trail. They had been climbing less than ten minutes, but already the view had stretched to encompass the whole of Mezaporta, the great canyon which led to the city, and a large expanse of the desert beyond. It was beautiful in its own way, the same way Fahrenn was beautiful, and yet it was a wild beauty here. A deadly beauty.

"What will my test be?" Tyr asked as he tried to pinpoint some kind of destination ahead.

"We will be observing you in combat."

"So, this is about my hunting ability after all."

"No. And I will not repeat myself again to you. I could tell by looking at you what sort of hunter you are, your level of skill, even how broken your chakra still is."

Tyr stuttered in his step, staring after the smith. Had someone told her? She mentioned it so casually it was impossible to believe otherwise, and yet no one had mentioned speaking with her either. What sort of hunter could read another in that way? "How did you…?"

"Don't play dumb with me." Lao spoke with an intensity, a finality, which wouldn’t be ignored. It was a voice that called storms and moved mountains, that broke men just as easily as it made them whole again. "You traveled across the Sekumaeya with a Legend at your heels. Don't tell me you can't feel the difference in his chakra; see it when he fights." It was the voice, Tyr imagined, of the great mountain dragon itself.

"I... have noticed a difference," he admitted as soon as his legs would move again. "I always thought it was something I had imagined." Tyr shook his head. "No. It was always that no one else ever said anything."

"Do you know why I'm testing you instead of the others?"

"No."

"Then this will be informative for you as well. Now…" They stopped at the edge of an immense plateau cut into the mountain. On the far side was a titan of a wyvern, and Tyr couldn't imagine how it had made it this far up on its own. "This is Dobby. Kill her."

The twins leapt at Lao, their hands already reaching for their hunting horns, but she only had to raise a silent hand to stop them.

"Is that all there is to it? I don’t kill for sport. Test o-"

Lao's hammer hit him so hard and fast that Tyr didn't actually feel the impact, only his crash against the mountain wall. "Did I offer you a choice?" There was an incredible amount of pain in his chest, as though he'd been struck by the Rhennox again. He choked for a breath before collapsing to his knees. "You'll notice the Guild doesn't supply us with their 'Peace Ore' here. It's kill or be killed, hunt or be hunted. It is you or her."

Dobby, alerted by the noise of the group, hefted herself to her feet and roared a challenge. The humps on her back let off small blasts of steam, and she swung her massive bladed tail back and forth. She may as well have been a puffed-up pink Diablos, but Tyr knew better than to think she would fight the same way.

His torso ached, and for a few moments after regaining his footing his vision swam with pain. He uncorked a potion and downed it as quickly as he could, but the movement made his chest spasm. "Did you..." He coughed violently before the potion's effects started to work their magic. "Have to hit me so hard?"

"She hits just as hard."

"Right..." Tyr straightened himself slowly, and even began to walk into the makeshift arena, but he stopped at its edge. He looked back at Akura and Vashimu, watched them even as they couldn’t meet his gaze. “You’ll have to hit me again, Lao.”

The hammer flew again, directly for him and without a hint of warning. This time, expecting it, he could’ve dodged, could’ve stepped back, but he took the hit and slid to a stop. The pain was excruciating, so much so that he shook, but he was still standing. He swallowed another gulp of potion and took a step towards Lao, his back to the wyvern. “You said you weren’t giving me a choice,” Tyr continued, downing one more shot for a bit of liquid courage. Lao hit him again, sending him flying backwards this time. Tyr was now flat on his back, gazing up at the brute wyvern above him.

Based on what he knew of hunting lore, he was staring at a Duramboros. They were larger than he imagined, but there was also something wrong; Duramboros could supposedly fly. With no wings and the body of a boulder, he couldn't fathom how that would be. Dobby turned, lifting her massive tail to deliver a crushing blow, but Tyr rolled out of the way. The ground shuddered from the impact, and the shaking made his chest burn. At the rate he was using up potions, he couldn’t keep the pattern up, but he wasn’t about to back down. He charged Lao this time. “But I am Untitled. I have no master, no one to tells me my choices.” Lao didn’t even flinch before she knocked him away again.

As he recovered, Dobby began to spin in a violent whirlwind. A defensive maneuver? he thought, but in the same moment he finished the thought he realized how wrong he was. Dobby launched herself tail-first across the platform and crash-landed only a few feet from the place Tyr had leapt from in his frantic attempt to escape. Flight, he realized, had a different context with this wyvern. He considered how feasibly he could escape the city with his only exit off the mountain blocked, and a ‘flying’ brute wyvern trying to mow him down.

What purpose would killing this trapped creature fulfill? It would earn him a new name, maybe, but what new information could Lao glean from how he killed that she couldn't see in his chakra, or in everything else he did? How he handled difficult situations, perhaps, but why kill a wyvern that meant so much to the twins, and especially right in front of their eyes? Their emotions didn’t make sense to him, but there was no answer that didn't make his blood boil. Whatever Lao's reasoning, Tyr was intent on finding an alternate ending.

So, he got back to his feet and he started walking calmly back towards the only exit. This time, when he got within striking range, Lao knocked him flat onto his back, and stood over him with her hammer raised. Tyr glared at her. “Go ahead and try! The Silver Los could only break my chakra, and you are no better beast!”

There was a moment of silence, and then Dobby roared from across the arena. She began to charge, her head lowered and horns tearing through the ground. But when she was no more than a few meters away a hard melody rung out from the two he'd almost forgotten were still there. Dobby lifted her horned head curiously at the sounds, halting her charge. It took a few moments, but she began to beat her tail along with the hunting horns.

The twins played their horns beautifully, a song full of power, pride, and yet peace echoing out of their inner chambers. Their chakras flooded these empty places, amplifying and enchanting every noise to give it some breath of power it could never have otherwise. The adjoining beat, as ground-shaking as it felt, had a calming effect on the body, even as it riled the soul. He had never heard such a thing before, but Dobby was all-too-familiar with the tune. As the song drew to a close, she backed herself to the far side of the plateau and settled down to rest.

"Incredible," Tyr said. "How does that work?"

"Very well," Lao replied over the dying notes. "You, however, are everything I expected you to be."

"Which is?"

"Trouble."

"Only when I have to be."

“No. You are always trouble.” There was no hint of a joke in her voice, no pretense of kindness, just bare truth. “You think yourself above rules. You disobey any order that doesn't conform to your personal goals. You are an idealist with more power than you know what to do with, and more potential than you'll ever realize. You are trouble incarnate. Give me a Brute Tigrex in the square any day."

Dobby let out a half yawn, half roar, and Tyr was finally allowed to his feet. "You accuse me of all that because of one experience?"

Lao gave him only the briefest of pitying looks. "No, Tyr. All of that because even in this forgotten place someone like yourself is impossible not to hear about."

"The Guild then."

"The Guild are not the only power in this world who would take interest in someone like you. You would do well to remember that."

"Then who? Lior? The Merchant's Union? Kean's father? Who cares enough to inform the lost city of Mezaporta that I'm coming into town?” Tyr gripped for something, for more anger, for the anger that he'd found against the Silver Los, and for more than that. He couldn't find that anger though, only an absence of hope that tore at the base of his stomach. "Assassins, removing me from two homes, forcing Adaline into marriage… What exactly do all of you want with me?"

Rather than respond, Lao made a small signal with her hand that freed the twins from their silence. Tyr recognized the signal. "It's not really about what we want," Akura said. "It's about making certain the world will still be here when you're through with it."

"You're a force of personality," Vashimu continued. "You might not have noticed before now but everyone in every city you go to knows your name before you leave it."

"After encountering a wyvern many only hear about in tall tales, you survived with your chakra so broken you couldn't actually feel emotion, and yet you've since become a hunter of renown who helped slay a Jhen Mohran."

"Royalty have thrown away their titles, abandoned their ancestral homes, and broken nearly every tradition ever held sacred to their families in order to pursue you."

"And moments ago..." Akura let his words fade, as though he didn't know how to continue.

"You nearly got yourself killed, all to save a beast you don’t even care about." Vashimu sounded as though he didn't believe it himself, but kept on going. "Whether all of this is because of your chakra being shattered."

"Or if you've always been destined for this, it doesn't really matter." Akura sounded like he was holding back tears. "What matters is who and what you are now, and there are people that can't just let someone like you run wild."

"I… didn’t do it for Dobby,” Tyr said in the brief window he had, but he wasn’t quite so certain of it after saying it aloud. She had a name, and nothing else.

“You stood up to Lao, and that’s suicide.”

“In the first degree.”

Tyr sighed. He didn’t know what to think. "So, what now?"

"Now we take you to see what you need to see." As Lao spoke, she shoved a rock into the mountain's side. This small act split the mountain wall they'd been walking along, and a door-sized hole formed at the base of the split. "Go in."

Tyr had strolled through caverns with barely enough light to see past his own nose. He'd grinned at the base of a frozen mountain knowing his destination, the peak, was infinitely colder. He'd stared into the hellfire eyes of an angry Los and chuckled. This doorway, simple and dark, knotted his stomach and slowed everything to a crawl. He swallowed his fear and stepped slowly inside.

The only light was behind him, spilling through the doorway onto the impossibly smooth floor. Beyond the light was some sort of sound. A high sound like a bell, but it didn't ring or echo. Like a bird's chirp, but without life. It sounded once, then twice, and then a new light spasmed into life. It was a harshly soft color, and it stung to see it. The light came from a small artificial Sol hanging overhead, brighter than even a novacrystal lamp.

What the mini Sol illuminated was an assortment of incredibly detailed paintings. They were stunningly accurate images of people in strange clothes waving at the viewer, landscapes he could almost recognize, covered metallic boats flying through the air without any visible balloons, and even a pair of circles, one white and grey, the other blue and green, littered with white smudges, against a speckled black background. The painter, whoever it was, had somehow managed to capture enough detail to make the viewer think it was a real image, and Tyr had to remind himself that none of this was remotely possible. They were imaginative, vibrant, and he couldn't feel the paint. They were smooth, covered by a thin slice of glass that didn’t smudge and fitted perfectly into the frame, but it was all impossible.

There was one in particular that caught his attention, a woman with a strange device, some sort of back-mounted pack with short tubes coming out of the base. It was silver, like steel, and judging by its size likely would’ve weighed more than her if it weren’t within her chakra. Compared to every other image, it seemed unique somehow; something about her dark hair and her smirk that Tyr swore he recognized.

"Can you guess what it is?" Akura asked, less than a foot from Tyr's right side.

"It's a poor way to carry monster parts," he guessed. "Some sort of joke."

"Come now," Vashimu countered to his left, "that's hardly a guess at all. They'd fall out."

"It's..." He paused in thought. The pack was nearly twice as wide as the woman, with straps over the shoulders, around the torso, and oddly the pelvis as well, as though to keep the pack from floating away. The tubes coming from the bottom were more like funnels, widening to empty circular ends, possibly to eject some waste matter. In the woman's hands were two sword handles that looked as though they had chiseled hunks of firestone attached, polished as smooth as the rest of the metal; a weapon prototype, maybe? It could explain everything if the pack was some sort of crude elemental phial or something, but where was the blade? The funnels couldn't be gun barrels, they were pointed straight down. No one would ever bend over to fire backwards like that. Unless she was wearing it upside down?

"It's...?" the twins prompted.

"It's... it's an Ancient." Tyr tasted the phrase on his tongue and in his head. It had to be. The paint may have looked no older than it would have if it dried this morning, but he was looking at the face, the clothes, the machinery of the people who had conquered this world before vanishing into its clouded history. "These paintings, this room, it's all... it's all theirs."

"Of course it is," Vashimu said. "But what do you think this thing she had on is?"

"Does it matter?"

"Does anything else?" Akura replied. "We opened this room nearly ten years ago. There's nothing else to it but the light and these smooth paintings."

"Pinturas," his twin corrected. "They're not paintings, or at least not anything like our paintings. There's no thickness to them."

"Too much detail too. It's impossible to be that accurate on such a small scale with a brush."

"So, since we know that much, there's only one thing left to wonder about."

"And that's what this does."

As he looked between them, Tyr couldn't believe how juvenile they were being. Here was the first, maybe the only, cache of recorded information on the Ancients and their technology, and they wanted to speculate on what the gadgetry in a single picture might do. What about them, their lives, their habits? But even as he asked himself he realized how futile that would be. Their question was the closest anyone could get. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to answer, to even guess now that he knew the truth.

"Can you guess why you needed to see this?" Lao asked when he turned to leave. Unable to look up at her, he shook his head. "We are all descended from them, the Ancients, those who found a world infested and made it home." It was The Story. Every human had heard it as a child, and most could recite the majority by heart. "No civilization older, no technology greater, no people more lost to time. They built the towers, the castles, and they prospered in a land we have struggled to survive in. They were conquerors; we are their shadows.

"As great as they were, as resourceful as they must have been, the Ancients still vanished. They left no clues, no signs. They left nothing but us and their empty monuments, most of them no more than ruins now. We’ve developed weapons and armor, we’ve built cities and roads, we’ve slowly taken back the land from the rampaging monsters that share this world with us, guided by the hand of The Guild, but in the thousands of years since their disappearance we’re still nowhere near what the Ancients were.

“But we are better than they were.” Tyr looked up. This was new. “Better because without their grand technology, without their knowledge of things well beyond our grasp to comprehend, we have survived. We have expanded our towns and cities, and even here in this forgotten place we do not yield to the forces of the world that would wipe us off of it. We are better than the Ancients, because we have not - we will not - simply disappear.”

He didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? He stepped outside, out of the cold light and back into the warmth of Sol. No one stopped him, but he didn’t go far. “Did you know my mother?” he asked without looking at Lao.

“I still do. How did you know?”

“The signal.” He held up his hand, mimicking the motion she’d made before. “I don’t know why I still thought she’d made the signs up herself.”

“She sends her love.”

Tyr couldn’t speak anymore. His throat was too tight, his vision too blurry. He moved his hands instead, in ways he hadn’t since he left Nifila. It was like fighting a Los; no matter how long it had been, no matter how broken he felt, he could always speak in his mother’s tongue.

“I will,” Lao said. “Will you help us find out what happened to them?”

Another few moments of silent signing followed.

“Because we need to be prepared, Tyr. We don’t know what ended their civilization, and unless we know what it was we can’t hope to fight against it. Your mother believed in that, and hopes you will too.”

Tyr whirled on Lao. He looked insane, crying and flailing at her, but Lao caught every word.

“You are half right, but I am sorry nonetheless. It was wrong of me, but you are wrong to think the Ancients don’t matter.”

Tyr swallowed hard, slowly finding a voice again. As he spoke, he kept his arms and hands moving, just in case his voice gave out again. “Convince me.”