“Where are we?” Diroh rose into the air, startled by the change.

“My realm,” Dallion simply replied. “I thought you were used to reality shifting by now.”

Shame appeared throughout the fury’s body like small bubbles. Despite her calm exterior, she still had a number of insecurities, especially when it came to things relating to awakening.

“I am!” Diroh tried to sound harsh. “Why did you pull me in here?”

“So that we can talk. You have questions, I have questions, and I prefer no one listens in.”

“Is that what life comes down to? Questions?”

The question was understandable. Dallion would have preferred to have a casual conversation, he’d have enjoyed mentoring her along the path awakening, maybe even introducing her to a guild so she could develop her skills faster. However, that wasn’t in the cards right now. Time was a serious factor. It often was, though now, the Star was the hunted, even if he wouldn’t remain so for long.

“You’ve lived with hunters most of your life. Aren’t you used to it?”

“Yeah, but you’re not a hunter.” The fury floated down. “You, Eury, my sister, you’re different. You don’t belong in this world.”

It wasn’t much of an insult, though it still made Dallion shake his head. Surprisingly, there weren’t any blobs of anger in her, just a touch of sadness.

“You act as if it isn’t real. You try to achieve everything you can, then when you get bored you just leave.”

“You got all that by serving hunters?”

“By listening to them. They discuss otherworlders a lot when you’re not there. When they get drunk, they don’t even care who’s listening.”

Yes, they do, Dallion said to himself. The higher the body trait, the more difficult it was to get drunk. Spike of the Icepicker guild had that issue. Even after becoming an elite, he couldn’t kick the habit, making spend large amounts of money on drinking... and fighting. The hunters who discussed outherworlders in front of Di had done so deliberately, probably to warn her what she could expect. By the looks of things, they had only partially succeeded.

“Eury’s mentor,” Dallion changed the subject. “He found you, right?”

“Everyone knows that,” Diroh replied with a mocking snort.

“When?”

The smirk vanished off the girl’s face.

“When did he find you, Di?” Dallion repeated.

“A while back...”

“Over five years?”

There was no answer.

“Closer to ten?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t remember much from back then. It could have been ten. Definitely more than two. He rarely came to visit.”

“Once per year?”

“Maybe less at first. It was a lot later that he told me about Ji.”

That must have been the time when he’d given her the hunter’s inn. It made sense: keeping her outside of the empire, but close enough to keep an eye on things. That could have been the reason he’d told Jiroh about her at all.

“Did he show you this?” Dallion summoned the purple skill gem in his hand.

At the sight of it, the fury recoiled. A flash of pain went through her body, like roots of a tree, before it vanished again.

“I’m not sure. It looks familiar, but I can’t remember him showing it to me.”

Finally, Dallion had gotten the confirmation needed to piece together what had happened during the previous hunt. A lot of grand powers had done a lot to bury the whole thing, and none of them had all the elements to begin with.

Dallion was still uncertain whether it was the Academy faction that had initiated the whole thing or the Star. The point was that they had joined efforts to do so, all in the goal of capturing the aetherbird. The mages had provided the means, the Star the location, and a group of highly trained mercenaries had been hired to see it through.

The hunt had succeeded. Jiroh and Eury’s mentor had managed to catch Aether by invading his realm and winning. Given that he was of this world, he must have been exceptionally skilled. Captured, the aetherbird had reverted to a skill gem—probably the state he had been way back when he had been created for the first time. At that point, something in the hunter’s motivation had changed. Instead of supplying the skill gem as he was supposed to, the hunter had offered a handful of feathers. This hadn’t gone down well with the parties involved. The hunters were banished and subsequently killed off, all with the exception of Havoc. However, by then it was too late. Jiroh’s mentor had already found a place to hide the gem: the realm of an unawakened child.

That’s why you were gone for a decade, isn’t it? Dallion asked.

I told you I can’t be locked up forever, the aetherbird replied. Magic always finds a way to escape, given enough time. Do you plan to do the same or keep me in your realm?

As much as Dallion wanted to answer, he found that he was unable to. Eury’s mentor must have gone through the same: was it worth the risk of putting it in the realm of a child in order to save the world? Putting it in an awakened would have little effect, and an adult was more likely to be driven insane.

You changed into an iciorn, Dallion said. Why?

No particular reason. I just didn’t want to be obvious. Could have been anything. It only mattered when Diroh awakened.

No doubt it had. That must have been the period around which “sightings” of the aetherbird had started to materialize, giving the countess an excuse to set the whole thing in motion. Or maybe she hadn’t done so on her own? There were too many coincidences stacking up. A few years back, a mage, the countess, and the Star were all together in the same place. Back then, Dallion believed the Star’s goal was to take the city and kill everyone in it. What if he had it all wrong? The loss of Nerosal could have been part of a deal: The Star got the city, the mage faction set the ground for getting the aetherbird, and Countess Priscord had an excuse to achieve her ambitions and the backing she needed. If that were the case, could it mean that she was working with the Star even now?

“What’s it do?” Diroh asked, interrupting Dallion’s train of thought.

“Trouble,” he replied, unsummoning it away. “It causes trouble.”

“And you think Jiroh’s mentor gave it to me?”

“No,” Dallion lied. “He probably kept it close at all times. I just wanted to know whether you’d seen it on him.”

“You pulled me into your realm to ask me that? Why? What’s going on? And don’t give me some lame excuse. I’ve had a lot of practice with Ji. Are you planning on leaving this world as well?”

It had been a while since Dallion had heard the question asked. Unsurprisingly, the answer was the same.

“No, I’m trying to save it.”

“You know, you’re full of crap.” The fury crossed her arms, floating a few feet away again.

The comment made Dallion smile.

“Yeah, I suppose I am. That doesn’t make me wrong. While I was gone, did anyone ask you about the hunter?”

“No. Lots of people asked about Ji. She seems to’ve been a celebrity here. Lots of guys asked me about my old inn, but they were just trying to ask me out.”

“That’s good.”

“That’s the last thing I thought you’d say. Are you okay?”

Good question, Nil said in a told-you-so tone. Are you?

No matter how one looked at it, the answer was no. The recent loss of Gleam combined with the fear of the Star taking over the world had put Dallion in a dark state. Even beyond that, though, it couldn’t be said that he was alright. He considered he was, maybe even pretended, but the closer he got to level eighty, the harder life became. He had left his guild and become a hunter to be free of the complex webs of relations that governed the cities, yet that had only gotten him there faster.

“I’ll be leaving the city,” Dallion said. “Hannah will take care of you, same as before. If anyone comes asking for me—”

“Tell them I’ve never seen you.” The fury looked away.

“No. Don’t lie. They’ll know if you do.”

“You’re a bastard! Worse than my sister! At least she didn’t give me any expectations! You come to see me after she’s gone, you get me when I’m in trouble, and after all that, you leave!”

“That’s what otherlanders do.” Dallion forced himself to say. It wasn’t pleasant, but any alternatives he could think of would be worse. With luck, she’ll focus her anger on him and survive all this. His leaving increased the odds. “In a moment, we’ll leave our realm. it’s important that you continue what you were doing before we entered.”

“You think someone’s spying on us? Here?”

“Pretend this never happened for the next half hour. Longer if you can. After that, tell everything to Aspan. Not Hannah. He’ll know what to do.”

Anger flared up for a moment, then quickly subsided as sadness, and determination formed. The fury could see Dallion’s reasons even if she didn’t like them. She too was in a difficult position, forced to hide her unusual magic ability as well as her cloud pet.

“This is it, isn’t it?” she whispered.

“I don’t know. Things will be different no matter what happens.”

“I wish I never met you.”

Reality shifted, taking them both back to the real world. Not used to the sudden change, the fury lost balance for a fraction of a second. Dallion tightened his grip until she got used to her surroundings.

“Sorry,” he said with a fake smile. “It’s just the trip. I promise to have a chat at dinner.”

“Liar.” There was almost no emotion in the word. Moments later, she was gone, slamming the door behind her.

That went well, Nil said.

Definitely believable, Dallion agreed. More likely than not, it gave him a few hours’ head start. The bigger question was where to go now. Returning to the general was pointless. Even if he had the artifact, the snob wasn’t going to give it out of principle. Walking about the city was risky, except maybe going to an awakening shrine. As much as the Order was annoyed at Dallion, surely they wouldn’t allow him to be attacked on their territory. There was only one way to find out.

Dallion reached for his backpack, then suddenly stopped. There was no point in taking it. All he needed was his functional combat gear. The food, the tools, bestiary tome, even the dryad bowl weren’t going to be of any use at all. The only thing he’d achieve by bringing them was to put them at risk.

“Nothing but distractions,” Dallion whispered as he removed the whip blade’s sheath. It too was unneeded. “Ruby,” he said. “It’s time to go.”

Obediently, the shardfly fluttered onto his shoulder, where it closed his wings and froze up like a piece of decoration.

Not the window, I hope, dear boy? Nil asked.

Without answering, Dallion left the room. Calmly, he made his way down the stairs. The crowd had all but gone, leaving Di and Hannah some time to prepare for the dinner rush. Dallion barely glanced at either of them as he left.

They’re still watching, Ruby said.

“Where?” Dallion had glanced over the area upon leaving the inn, but he hadn’t noticed any guards.

The chimneys across. They aren’t chimneys.

Illusions? Thinking back, the rooftops did seem somewhat different from how Dallion remembered them.

How are you able to see through illusions? he asked.

I can only spot them, Ruby replied. Gleam taught me.

That’s a good start. We’ll need a lot more to avenge her, though. Always be ready, and never show any mercy.