Chapter 12

The Ravaged

Krysta had no idea that anything had happened when they broke down camp, and Terrill had no desire to tell her. His encounter with Atrum, and Walter’s apparent bloodlust were topics that simply did not come up in normal conversation. The hunter made no move to bring it up, either, and Terrill believed he had seen enough of the conversation with his friend to know what had passed between them. Not that it stopped Terrill from warily eyeing Walter’s back when he began to lead them down the hill, a less arduous journey than the day before, if no less treacherous.

That was something Krysta did manage to pick up on.

“Something wrong?” she asked, leaning over to examine his scrunched face. Walter could be seen looking back, but he primarily kept his eyes forward to ensure they didn’t tumble into the drink of the swamp.

“Mm, just thinking.” He didn’t want to share the topic. Atrum’s talk of destiny and shadows laid thick on his mind, but the clearing marshland also made the thoughts of their next leg mingle with it. Whatever Atrum’s plans, they had to do with what was on the other side of the mountain, and it was there that Terrill decided his thoughts would turn. “We’ll need to find a way over those mountains to get to Invaria, right?”

“Guess we have a good many more days yet,” Krysta agreed, sounding exhausted from thinking about it. Walter didn’t share the same exhaustion, his pace quickening as the nasty fog started to part, making a clearer path northward. There were even some bridges constructed this time! With that, Krysta came closer to Terrill in an attempt to not be overheard. “Is it me, or does Walter seem…angrier?”

“Might be. He’s going after that dark knight, so he’s probably steeling himself to,” Terrill began, recalling the events of the previous night and changing tacks, “to do what needs to be done.”

“Guess we should do the same.” There wasn’t much to contest there, the pair putting all of their efforts in crossing the bridges and emerging on the other side of the Forsaken Hill unscathed. It was good to feel the rays of the sun on them once again.

“Pravado is just a couple days now,” Walter told them once they’d stretched and soaked in the sun away from that miserable place. “From there, it’s just a quick cross over the Carzentaurian Mountains. Last I checked, Invaria made a path through, so there should be minimal issue for you.”

Terrill doubted he cared all that much. Every aspect of Walter’s body language communicated his tension and the swiftness with which he wished to reach Pravado. His target was in his sights, and he was determined to put an end to him, enough to speed their journey up. There were minimal hours camping, very few resting, and they passed by the few settlements and outposts (some of which were abandoned) without stopping to say hello. It seemed to bring a wistfulness to Krysta when she saw each of those.

“So many people just up and leaving their homes. I guess the shadow of war looms over them,” she said, her voice quiet enough to be stolen by the wind. Her companions heard her, however, hanging on her lonely words. “I never really understood how these things can affect people… You always lived with it, right, Terrill?”

“Mm, for many months at a time,” Terrill said. They weren’t lingering in these desolate places, and Terrill didn’t want to, but he felt Krysta’s question deserved an answer to it. “People were afraid to leave town, or step outside of their doors. It’s what made the Chosen One Festival such a highlight, because it meant people could have hope. For the summer, people could bask in the warmth and beauty of Sayn’s countryside. Then when fall would come…well, I guess Golbrucht will be making his return in a couple months yet.”

“Mm, puts things in perspective.” Or so Krysta’s words said. She was more troubled by their current environment than she was philosophical, and leaving them behind didn’t help her decide anything about whatever she was musing on. Terrill left it alone; he had enough to worry about with Invaria growing closer with every step.

The smoke near the mountains didn’t help.

Its source became apparent on the final leg of their journey. The mountain range loomed over them, casting its shadows and purifying the air with its snow-capped peaks. The weather reminded Terrill of home, which had a calming effect even as it became clear that something had gone very wrong near Pravado. Gazing upwards, he couldn’t see to the other side of the mountain pass, though he hadn’t expected to, but his eyes were drawn to a carved gate that seemed to split the sloping town that was their newest destination, visible from miles away. The gate wasn’t what was burning, and the smoke had all but vanished, but the evidence of its existence became greater with every mile crossed.

“Horrible…” Krysta said, spitting on the ground as if the ash in the air had given her a bad taste. She shivered from the colder air and Terrill removed his jerkin to give to her. He was used to the coldness. “Who could have done all this damage?”

“There’s only one man who would do this,” Walter said, his deep growl resonating with the air. That growl conveyed all it needed to without further words.

Trees had snapped, outlying houses had burned, and all that was left behind was scorched land, like a burning carpet. It was like the Battle of Silicias all over again, only people were still left behind, as some could be seen on the blackened dirt roads of the border town. There was no indication, however, that the one who had done this remained there.

The trio continued to the town entrance, where a smog hung around, leftover residue from the smoldering houses. There was no telling how many days ago the attack had occurred, but it was obvious how fearful the populace was on the Valordan side of the gate. Every step of theirs that crunched on the burned gravel caused a reaction amidst the people. Some cowered, others raised their brooms like a sword, and still others kept their heads down, preferring to not make eye contact.

Terrill stopped at the foot of the mountain town, taking in the damage as best as he could. It seemed worst at the front end of the town, getting progressively less harmful as Terrill’s eyes traveled up the slope. He began to wonder if Phillip had been mistaken, and that the dark knight that had torched Pravado really was working for Invaria, as the gate seemed undamaged and there was no sign of smoke from the other side.

A sudden sound of rubble falling clattered through the town, turning the citizens’ eyes in its direction. Dust puffed out from the source of it and Terrill moved for it, ignoring the people that watched him. When he was close enough, Terrill was forced to cover his eyes against the debris that floated, a mixture of ash, dust and wood splinters from where a house was collapsing. Outside, a man was panting, his face full of soot as he appeared to have just escaped the house. A woman ran down the street and approached him, tugging at his arm.

“Are they okay in there?” she shrieked, but the man’s forlorn expression didn’t inspire confidence. “What were they doing, Roderick?!”

“You know damn well how few beds we have. We’re trying to establish this as a shelter,” Roderick said, pushing the woman away from him. No one in town was happy, each grumbling and looking ready to throttle one another. That ended when a cough sounded from the broken house, followed by a second cough from another person. Whoever was inside the dwelling was still just fine. “Someone get me the soldiers from near the gate. Failing them, the reconstruction crew working on the hospital. Let’s get those two out of there before the whole building collapses.”

Roderick ran for the building with the full intention of pulling his men out of there, when the front of the house fell even further, preventing entrance or exit. The man stalled, but Terrill moved, pushing Roderick behind himself. His foot lifted up, and with a singular slam, magic channeled from his body to a point underneath the doorway. Two columns were crafted, lifting that portion of the house up and then stretching backwards until an arch had formed. In an instant, the townspeople could see inside, each beginning to clap.

Terrill had no room for their applause, and he strode into the creaking and groaning building to find the two men that had been trapped, one carrying the other. Wordlessly, Terrill took to the other side, holding the unconscious man’s arm over him and helping to drag the pair out of the house while his support pillars continued to hold. The applause only continued to increase when they arrived outside.

“Which way’s the nearest clinic?” Terrill asked of Roderick, who pointed him up the slope to one of the buildings closest to the border gate. A grateful nod later, and Terrill was dragging the injured man in that direction. Walter came on the other side, taking his assistant on his own as Terrill realized the rescued man had a busted foot. Moving ahead of them was Krysta, rolling up her sleeves and his jerkin in preparation to help at the clinic.

The incline of the town made things more difficult than Terrill had expected, but despite his size, the man he was helping was extraordinarily light, and likely weighed less than the soldiers descending from the gate. They were met by Roderick’s irate face, the town foreman exasperated at their lack of response.

“You could do to move faster! Valorda hasn’t sent a relief squad, so you’re all we’ve got.”

“We’re trying our best, Roderick!” One of the soldiers snapped. They were on edge, and Terrill couldn’t blame them, not when they finished nearing the gate and turned for the building that had a statue of the goddess sitting right outside it. There was no clearer a sign of what it was. The same went for the border gate, which Terrill had the chance to examine when Roderick dismissed the soldiers and took the injured man in his hands.

It was a stone gate that had withstood the test of time, but Terrill hesitated at calling it fortified. In more peaceful times, he believed, its oaken gates were probably swung wide open, inviting everyone to dance across to the other half of town. Indeed, the townsfolk themselves didn’t seem to have an issue with who was on what side of what border, given there was a gathering of people on the Invarian side, with a few soldiers stemming the tide.

“They’re our townsfolk, too, no matter if they’re Valordan!”

“Let us through!”

“Our apologies. We’ll let you through when both sides have been deemed safe. For now, it’s a miracle our side wasn’t attacked, either.”

“Don’t give me that crap!” The protestor on the Valordan side threw something at a soldier’s head, but immediately regretted it when the people became silent. The source was obvious: a man in blue-coated armor parting the crowd as he examined the state of the gate. He wore glasses and carried himself as someone of authority, peering at the crowd while they awaited his judgment.

“That’s General Warren, an envoy from the crown prince, himself,” Roderick spoke, having noticed the source of Terrill’s attention. He was no longer occupied with his companion, and had returned to Terrill’s side as they watched the activity at the gate. The longer Terrill stared, the more he got the feeling that this General Warren knew he was there and just waiting to look at him. “He’s apparently the closest to the Invarian Council, and is only dispatched to deal with major situations. His family’s been part of their navy for generations.”

Terrill quirked an eyebrow, and just at that moment, Warren turned, locking eyes with the Guardian. Immediately, Terrill flinched, and the moment passed as soon as it had arrived. He let out a breath. “You seem to know a bit about Invarian politics.”

“It’s inevitable when you live in Pravado. Our town is split into both sides, so when things get rough, one side helps the other out. If it wasn’t for this damn war they’re rumoring, we’d be taking shelter on the Invarian side,” Roderick explained, sounding none-too-happy about the state of affairs at their border. “Of course, ever since General Warren showed up, he’s not allowing anyone through in the name of national security. It’s laughable. Our houses are burned and broken and he’s worried about us ransacking our neighbors! What do those uppity Invarian royals take us for?! We’re just people!”

That they were, Terrill noted, and good people at that. Just as Phillip didn’t want a war with Invaria, nor did the people of Pravado, and those on the other side of the gate proved it. Terrill resolved himself to give this Invarian general (and perhaps the more stubborn Valordan soldiers) a piece of his mind, only to realize the jerkin containing his official letter was still with Krysta. He turned to look for her, but found her nowhere outside in the fading light of the day. Torches and lamps came on as he searched, with Roderick rendering an inquisitive glance in his direction.

“Have you seen my friend? Blonde girl?”

“Oh, yes, she went straight inside the clinic.” Terrill chuckled; that was just like her. Thanking the Valordan town leader, Terrill made his own way inside one of the most intact buildings, brightly lit with a welcoming fire set to keep the patients comfortable.

He almost wished he hadn’t seen it.

Scores of people were on bedrest, wounded by the force that had stormed through the town. Some clutched bloodied legs, others were almost beyond saving, the singular town doctor trying his best in the wake of this massacre. Krysta was there, too, flushed with the exertion of her healing magic that made the dent of a droplet on a stone wall. Terrill didn’t want to begin to imagine the scores of bodies that weren’t there, but it floated across his mind and he resisted the urge to vomit.

Just like the last war… Is this what Silicias and Kirdon looked like? Who could do such a thing? Terrill walked forward, noticing Walter pinning a man down as the town’s herbalist, identified by his garb, tried to treat a man’s wound. Said man thrashed about, but Walter held him steady. His tremulous hands suggested that the hunter was less than stable at the sight. He’d seen this before.

A door opened to the outside while Terrill stared, presumably leading to some kind of outhouse for the patients, or perhaps it was a backroom where the lesser-wounded patients could stay. Terrill didn’t care, because the situation in front of him was too sickening to contemplate anything else.

Or that’s what he would have thought, but for the voice that called his name.

“Buddy, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” Terrill almost didn’t know that he was being called and turned just in time to receive a crushing hug from a familiar redhead.

“Floyd?!” Terrill yelped, trying to extricate himself, but failing to do so until the hug had been completed. Krysta looked up from her work, a smile blooming and brightening up the room, while Walter eyed the reunion. Eventually, Floyd got bored of his hug (though only after receiving a pat on the back) and he withdrew. “You look like hell.”

Floyd offered a mirthless chuckle, scratching at his bruised cheek. His head was bandaged, badly wrapped around a nasty cut on his forehead. His arms didn’t fare much better, peppered with scratches that made him look like he walked through a bramble of thorns without knowing. Still, he wore his usual smile, combined with a dullness behind his eyes. Neither abated as Terrill moved them to the side of the room when another injured patient came in, this one less serious than most. “So, what the hell happened to you? When I woke up, you and Krysta weren’t there and we found ourselves on Gladius.”

“We? You mean Torry was with you?” Terrill asked, keeping his voice low to avoid unwanted attention. Floyd’s smile transformed to a glower in a flash at hearing Torry’s name. “None of the reports of you wandering the countryside mentioned her.”

“There were reports?”

“Yeah, you don’t need to know that. What happened here?”

Floyd gave a rattling sigh and found a wooden stool to place himself upon, his thumbs circling themselves. “You know that dark knight they said attacked the ambassadors at Ardoris? Same guy.”

“So, he was here?” Walter’s forceful interjection made Floyd do a double take before the hunter’s hands found his lapel, gripping Floyd tight. The boy was scared stiff at the suddenness, and Terrill stepped in to wrest Walter away from his friend. This didn’t calm Walter in the slightest. “Where did he go?! How long ago?!”

“Uh…um…who’s this guy, Terrill?”

“Walter, a…companion of me and Krysta. You can trust him,” Terrill reassured Floyd, a more confident hand placed upon him than the shaking ones of Walter. At least, I hope we can trust him.

“Right, well, it was more than a few days ago, soon after Torry and I got into town. We were recouping here, hoping to head for Invaria, but couldn’t get through the gate,” Floyd explained, his hands now clasped in his lap. His more reserved demeanor brought to attention the lack of Torry, and Terrill had a feeling he knew where this story was heading. Only once had he seen Floyd so serious and introspective. “Turns out, just throwing your status around doesn’t do anything without proper documentation. So, we waited, hoping you two would show up or something but…word of Torry being here must’ve gotten to Invaria, because he showed up.”

“The dark knight?”

“More like a death knight. Although, the people have taken to calling him the Phantom Knight because of how quick he appears and vanishes. Did just that here.” Floyd’s hands gripped at his pants, showing bruised and cut knuckles that looked self-bandaged. “Showed up in the middle of the night like a ghost, burning houses with the single cut of his sword. It was like those shadows with LeBrandon. Most of the people cut by him didn’t stand a chance of making it… Nothing healed. Didn’t make sense at first why he was even attacking, but then he saw Torry and went right for her. We held him off, but…it wasn’t enough… He grabbed Torry and disappeared over the border to Invaria.”

“Wait, so Invaria sent a Phantom Knight to kidnap Torry? For what reason?”

“I don’t know!” Floyd snapped, standing from the stool and sending it spinning onto the ground. “But I’ve been stuck here behind this damn wall ever since, while she’s… Damn it!”

Terrill didn’t try to shake Floyd from his upset state, preferring to mull over the newest information. It was obvious now that the Phantom Knight was busy dealing damage to both sides, making the Valordans think it was an act of violence by the Invarians and vice versa. Torry was the piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit, except for the most obvious: her place on the political chess board. Terrill scoffed, though it sounded more like a chuckle.

“It’s not funny, Terrill! She’s in real danger!”

“If she’s taken to Invaria, she’s not. Right now, she’s too valuable a piece for the Fiends to play.”

“Damn it, Terrill, this is Torry!” Floyd had now grabbed Terrill in his desperation, hoping to impart that one bit of importance. Terrill removed him. “You’re not suggesting we just abandon her?!”

“When did I ever say that? I’m just saying you could stand to calm down. If the Phantom Knight took her alive, there’s no reason to kill her. If he took her over the border to Invaria, then he either has a base there, that their government should know about, or she’s with the government at this very moment.” Terrill’s explanations did little to calm Floyd. He was lathered up, ready to go in blazing hot now that his cavalry had arrived.

“Then let’s go now! You’re here, so you can use your Earth Magic to bust us through the gate and on to the other side!”

“Don’t be an obstinate fool!” The butt of Walter’s spear smacked Floyd on the back, sending him into the wall where Walter pinned him. The redhead struggled, but Walter made sure to restrict any movements possible. “I can see your type, running off half-cocked without a plan. I get the feeling that without Terrill’s cool head, you wouldn’t have survived very long to make it to Pravado. Well, right now Valorda and Invaria are on the cusp of war, and you think breaking through from the Valordan side is going to ease those tensions and make it easier to rescue your girl? Get a grip!”

Walter smacked him again, sending Floyd to the floor. The redhead angled for Terrill, pleading for him to help with his eyes. It was the same desperation he’d shown on the coast of Silicias, and Terrill knew that if he left his friend to his own devices, Floyd would stop acting intelligently…if he ever did so in the first place. Terrill ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“Walter’s right. Busting through isn’t what Torry needs right now, or these countries.”

“Then what bright ideas do you have? Because I’ve been sitting here for days wracking my brain, but I can’t come up with anything.” Floyd went limp at his own words, deflated from his inability to come up with something on the fly. Terrill found the irony too much, laughing at Floyd’s misguided impulsivity before he bent down to pat his shoulders.

“We don’t need ideas. Just a letter, Mr. Ambassador. I’ll take it from here.”

“Wait, what?”

“He’s saying wait there, fool.”

“Hey, no one calls me a fool but me. And Torry. And you’re definitely not her! I don’t even really know who you are.”

“I get the feeling I’ll find it better that way. You look like a walking accident waiting to happen.”

“Oh yeah, come at me, spear-man! I’ll show you an accident!” Terrill rolled his eyes at the argument erupting between Walter and Floyd, but put distance between himself and them, aiming for Krysta instead. She was busy, wiping sweat from her forehead, but attempting to heal the leg of the most recent patient, damaged by falling debris. It was a slow recovery.

“I see we found Floyd,” she said when she noticed his nearness. “He looks as lively as ever.”

“Mm. Torry, not so much. Seems she’s been taken to the other side of the Invarian border.” Krysta’s eyes told Terrill that she’d gathered as much from their rather loud discourse. Terrill rubbed at his eyes with a sigh, the argument continuing in unintelligible insults. “Given we’re heading in the same direction, I’m thinking to arrange our passage tonight.”

“Ah, sounds like a good idea.” Krysta was torn regarding the patients there and their path forward, but already Terrill could see the good she’d done, and how much she helped ease the load on the doctor. Still, she got the message and dug into his jerkin to pull out the letter before returning to her work with gusto. Terrill ignored the bickering as he took the letter from her and swept out the door.

It was eerie, stepping outside, how similar Pravado was to Hart at night. The mountain range that formed the spine of the town prevented much light from piercing at sundown, and the air was cold. People had already returned to what was left of their houses, the reconstruction efforts finished for the day. A large group yet remained at the border, however, where the few soldiers that were there attempted to stem the tide of complaints that was pouring in. Amidst them, identifiable by the torchlight, was Roderick, his voice rising above all the others.

“You can’t keep us from getting healing supplies, Dorney!” he was shouting, his voice carrying down the slope as Terrill ascended it. “The capital won’t bother with sending troops our way, not with this attack. The Invarian side is all we have!”

“And we can’t let anyone else through. Even if we did, Roderick, there’s no way the Invarian guard would let trade recommence.”

“We wish to trade, too, though! Hunting is sparse here! We rely on Southern Pravado!”

“Silence!” A clanging of weapons against one another cowed the dissenting citizens. Terrill reached the base of the crowd, and with mild-mannered apologies, he pushed his way through them. “No one is allowed to cross the border.”

“How about a representative of King Phillip to see Crown Prince Ricardo?” Terrill asked, his letter on full and prominent display. The people around him gasped at his mighty claim, their awe of him from earlier doubling at the sight of the king’s crest appearing on the envelope. One of the soldiers fell over at the sight of it, and each of the Valordan troops looked suddenly torn; they knew their king’s crest on sight.

The Invarians were more suspicious of this, especially as Terrill reached the gate without obstruction and leaned over it, presenting the missive. They eyed it like a poisonous fruit, and their doubt was shared by the man in clanking armor that emerged from the guardhouse.

“What’s all this about, then?” His voice was like butter, Terrill realized, something that he couldn’t have picked up on when he’d shown himself earlier. The Invarian soldiers snapped into a salute in General Warren’s presence, the man stroking a fashionable, white goatee as he parted the sea of North Pravado citizens to stand before the gate. With one hand, he brushed his men aside, and Terrill found himself standing face to face with Invaria’s most trusted advisor, only a gate between them. The general adjusted his glasses, his sharp eyes, sharper than most, landing on the letter. “Valordan royal seal. One doesn’t see those every day.”

“One doesn’t see a general in the Invarian army every day, either,” Terrill pointed out. The murmurs around the two increased, and Terrill watched Warren for any clue of what he might say in response. Sadly, the man proved to be inscrutable. “Per the request of King Phillip of Valorda, myself and my party wish to deliver this letter and have an audience with Crown Prince Ricardo of Invaria.”

“And what, pray tell, does the letter say?” Warren’s glasses drooped down his face while he inclined his head, but Terrill felt a different chill run down his spine. This man, for all his authority, considered him an ant. Or lower than an ant. All Terrill could figure was that he held complete detachment and disdain for the letter presented. Terrill took a moment to compose his thoughts.

“I’ve been ordered to not let the letter be opened except for in the presence of the Crown Prince.”

Warren stroked his goatee, and each soldier and citizen at the gate waited with bated breath for this famed general’s response. He sucked in a breath.

And General Warren laughed.

It wasn’t a small chortle, or an amused chuckle, but a full-bellied guffaw that rang around the mountainside and down the valley where Pravado lay. “Is King Phillip really so soft as to believe we would let an envoy through to discuss with our prince? The country is about to go to war, boy. The prince will be seeing no visitors, and certainly not a snake from Valorda.”

The way Warren had hissed the word “snake” made Terrill’s insides churn, preventing him from stopping the general as he turned away. He needn’t have bothered, as the civilians of North Pravado had surrounded the general with desperate expressions.

“Please reconsider, General! If war breaks out with Valorda, Pravado is doomed on both sides!”

“This could be the last chance for peace.”

“I’m certain His Highness would welcome it,” claimed an elderly man. This one seemed to be the one to tip the scales, making Warren sigh with belabored breath. Terrill chose to throw his own words in the bucket to convince the general to open the borders.

“I assure you, my party means only to bring peace. I have no national ties to Valorda, myself, but the king asked me to deliver this message. That tells you how important it is to him to avert any war.” This bold display brought more people forward, and with another growling sigh, Warren had no choice but to relent. He waved his hand.

“Very well, open the borders for the day. Let it not be said we are not benevolent.” The Invarian soldiers seemed unclear on the orders, shocked by their general’s change of mind. However, Warren proved to be quite assertive. “I did not stutter, men. Open the gate!”

“S-sir!” Both sides of the border worked with chaotic fumbling to open the gate, allowing the citizens of both North and South Pravado to mingle for food and medical supplies. Terrill was pleased to see it, the coexistence and peace both countries sought, as well as that their path was open. Knowing in his heart that the war could be averted now, Terrill turned away, only for a strong hand to catch his arm. Pain shot through his shoulder, and Terrill looked up to see Warren, close and imposing.

“I trust you and your party won’t try anything, but Invarian royalty is my responsibility, so me and my men will escort you to our capital tomorrow morning. Is that understood?”

The general wasn’t giving him much choice, and every second longer that he held on made Terrill feel more nauseated. He gave a curt nod. Warren let go, sauntering back to the Invarian guardhouse while Terrill watched him. There was something malevolent about that man, Terrill knew it, but he tamped down on those concerns, moistening his throat from how dry it had gotten. Rubbing at his arm again, Terrill went back down the hill, tucking his letter inside his pants’ pocket before he entered the clinic.

It was much more relaxed now, the influx of cases tempered with Krysta’s expertise and the local doctor’s continued care. She was nowhere to be seen, but Floyd and Walter appeared to have put aside their bickering to help the doctor with his patients. Neither had noticed his re-entry. Terrill preferred it that way, stifling his yawn, and figuring he’d tell them later. Right now, he only had the desire to wash the muck of their trip through the Hill off of him, and he sought a shower. To that end, he opened the nearest door of the clinic in the hopes of finding one, but stopped when he saw that Krysta was standing in the room with her back to him, her shirt and his jerkin lying on an unoccupied bed.

Her fingers ran down her shoulder, her skin glistening from either sweat or her own personal shower, until she stopped and clasped it, her body shaking a little. Terrill didn’t want to look too long, not wanting Krysta to see him watching her in that vulnerable moment. To him, her shaking looked too much like she was crying.

He didn’t want to intrude on why, and with silence, Terrill retreated.

They all had things on their minds, he reasoned, but it was best for each of them to deal with it alone, to prepare for what he hoped would be the final task in stopping the war. He hoped that would also bring an end to Krysta’s tears.

When morning came, they took their first steps into Invaria.