For the first time in a long time, I awoke to the sun peeking in from between the blinds, casting its light into the otherwise dark room. It’s not that I always woke up before the sun did, but I rarely slept in long enough to be woken up by it shining brightly.

Is it already the afternoon? When was the last time I slept in this late? It feels nice, though.

“Quit moving,” a sleepy and barely conscious Sylvia mumbled into my chest.

I said nothing and stroked her silky purple hair. Her breathing went shallow, and she was already back to sleep in a matter of seconds. Another first time was…well, how we slept.

It’s not the first time Sylvia and I have shared a bed, far from it actually. Sometimes, we got close in the middle of our sleep. Other times, Mila planted herself between us, and even on occasion, we found ourselves in a limb pile after a few nightly maneuvers.

But that was the first time I slept in a bed with someone after I told them I loved them and that they loved me. It was… different. Why was it different when it was all the same in the end, logically speaking? I didn’t have the faintest clue, but all I did know was that it felt different in every way.

And I very much liked that change. I didn’t think one could feel closer to a person just because they simply told them that they loved them back. But I was wrong.

I massaged one of my cheeks because I realized I had been smiling too much, and it was starting to hurt. I chuckled inwardly and gently and quietly edged myself away from Sylvia and out of the bed. Her hand reached out for me on the way up on what seemed like pure instinct, and for a moment, I really did contemplate crawling back into bed and sleeping the day away with her.

But I couldn’t. It was a new day, and things must go on. It was probably best that I relieved my parents of watching Mila sooner rather than later as well.

With a yawn, I let out a deep stretch and left Sylvia’s room. I quietly closed the door behind me and turned to head to my room to change, but a pair of pink eyes spotted me from a doorframe down the hall.

The fact that I am waking up at the same time as Varnir goes to show just how late in the day it is…

“Good morn—?”

I blinked in confusion as Varnir had, for some reason, sprinted away from me and around the bend of the hallway. It was rather sudden and unbecoming of him, so I had a quick thought.

Should I? Well, why not? I’m in a good mood and might as well act accordingly.

So, I sprinted after Varnir. With mana-enhanced steps, I had already rounded the corner. Varnir was quick on his feet, but when it came to sprints, and sprints that required sudden turns, he wasn’t exactly the fastest Elf in the kingdom. There are just some more things I would have to work on with him, I guess.

But…isn’t he rather slow this morning? Slower than he should be? I should get Bishop to whip him into even better shape.

Varnir’s head snapped back, and his eyes went wide as I gained on him. He tried to pick up the pace, but I was already behind him.

“Running from your friend the moment you see him? That’s rather rude, no?” I asked playfully.

Varnir let out a small, high-pitched yelp, and now it was my turn to stop dead in my tracks. Varnir, no matter what happened to him, his vocal cords would never utter anything in that realm.

I heard a large person’s thunderous steps behind me and looked behind me as Varnir rounded the corner. The real Varnir, that was.

Well…this is not what I expected.

—

“Can I ask why you went to such lengths and didn’t just turn yourself invisible? With your abilities, I highly doubt anyone would have caught you…” I questioned.

“The hallways are narrow, and maids pushing carts might hit me by accident…it’s better to pretend to be someone else,” Tsarra muttered quietly.

“I see…that is a possibility…but wait, why are you saying it like it already happened once before?” I asked.

Tsarra didn’t answer, which was an answer in and of itself. “Do Ren and Lauren know?”

Tsarra nodded meekly, and I just let out a small sigh and sat back in the lounge chair. If Ren and Lauren knew and Tsarra was allowed to be here, then it didn’t matter what she did. And it’s not like I was going to report her or anything. That would be idiotic. I was just curious about the scene I had stumbled on.

I looked up, tilted my head, and asked the two of them, “Also, is there any reason why neither of you is looking me in the eyes?”

For some reason, neither of them would make eye contact with me. I get that it was embarrassing, but truly, it wasn’t a big deal to me. What Tsarra and Varnir did together was none of my business, and I was more than happy to see them getting along.

“I—I just can’t look you in the eyes right now, man…” Varnir said as he shook his head.

“Why be embarrassed? I don’t care what either of you do. I won’t be saying anything to anyone,” I told them.

Unfortunately, those words seemed not to have comforted them in the slightest. Instead, an awkward silence drifted on until Varnir finally gave me a wry smile.

“Do you really not know what we are talking about? Just how much…I mean, what could she have done to you to make you do that?” Varnir asked hesitantly.

Huh?

“Who could do what to me to make me do what now?” I asked, confused.

Tsarra’s face was bright red as she buried her face into her cupped hands. Even Varnir turned a few shades of pink as he looked away again.

“I mean…you screamed so loud everyone with working ears heard you…did you think you were being quiet?” Varnir managed to mumble out.

Tsarra let out a small squeal as she rubbed her face against her hands, and I found myself in a dire situation that required remediation. As I felt the embarrassment rise in my gut, I explained, “Wait, you have all of this wrong. It was some type of ritual where Sylvia bit me and—”

Tsarra gasped, and Varnir just shook his head as he reached over to pat my shoulder, “That’s just downright awful…I’m incredibly sorry to—hear…that—Kaladin? Why do you—hold on.”

Varnir gave my shoulder a few pats that raised in power. His embarrassed and flushed face turned to confusion, then concern as he raised his eyebrows at me.

“What? Why do you feel so…sturdy? What happened to you?” Varir asked me.

“What do you mean?” I asked as I hit myself on the shoulder. “I don’t feel any different from how I usually am?”

“No, no…this isn’t right. Tsarra hit him really quick,” Varnir said.

“No! I—I—I’m okay, really! I’ll believe what you said!” she rattled off quickly in between her hands.

“Just a light tap on the shoulder. I promise you’ll see what I mean,” Varnir said, worry creeping into his voice.

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Tsarra, sensing the worry from Varnir, spread her fingers so her green and yellow heterochromatic eyes could see us. Reluctantly and slowly, she pulled her hands away, got up, and approached me like a nervous rabbit.

She poked my shoulder, and I watched as her hesitation and nervousness melted away into confusion. She poked me again, this time a little harder. Then again, her face morphing into genuine interest as she put a finger to her chin and poked my hand, then my arm, then my chest. It was quite the turnaround, and I was thankful for it, but now I was starting to be concerned.

Is something wrong with me? Why don’t I feel any different?

I looked at both of them and asked, “Do I look different or something? What are you two seeing and feeling that I’m not? This is my body. I should be able to tell if something happened to me.”

Tsarra shook her head confidently and said, “No, your appearance hasn’t changed at all. But your skin and body do feel different. Sturdy isn’t a bad description as Varnir said, but perhaps your muscles feel more dense and sinewy.”

What? Is that really true?

I poked my arms, chest, shoulders, and legs, but they really didn’t feel any different to me. It’s not like I suddenly gained muscle or anything. I don’t get it.

Tsarra lowered her face to mine, and her sense of shyness was gone completely. “May I touch your face?”

“You may,” I said as I nodded my head.

Tsarra poked my cheeks with different amounts of pressure until she nodded in satisfaction. “Yes, even your face, which has little muscle compared to an arm, feels that way now. Do you honestly not feel different, Kaladin?”

“Physically, I feel the same as I always have,” I affirmed again.

“Then we should investigate this. Shall we…?” Tsarra suggested as she looked at Varnir.

Varnir shrugged, and with that, we went outside to our makeshift training arena to figure out what was, apparently, so different about me.

—

Linnetia "Nyx" Paine’s POV.

This is disastrous. Insurgents are on the move in the heart of Luminar, and we are in full crisis management mode. If things explode beyond this, we may suffer actual civilian casualties. The city guard and military can only do so much.

I happened to have been at school attending to a few matters when the notice came in. I quickly geared up and mobilized the closest group of agents to find and eliminate the elements that were moving within Forward University. Protecting the children and students was a high priority when the royal family was absent in the city.

We couldn’t be everywhere. We could only do our best and handle the threats closest to us.

That was also when I saw someone, either completely ignorant or fully aware of the developing situation—an old white-haired Human man, his back hunched, walking slowly down the stone path toward the school’s coliseum with his cane. For some reason, he had shaved his beard off completely; his long white hair was short and cropped to his wrinkly head.

Normally, I would have ignored such a person, but I couldn’t leave Kaladin’s family alone. And to make matters worse, he was being followed by multiple people from the shadows. But Kaladin had told me who his grandfather was. And there was a near-zero chance he wasn’t somehow involved, so I joined the others and watched him from the shadows.

After some time, Kaladin’s grandfather eventually reached the stadium. He boldly strode into the place, completely ignoring all the signs around him. I went around a longer way and infiltrated through a teacher’s entrance that would allow me more freedom of movement. Also, unfortunately, many of the insurgents were not foreigners. Specifically, at Forward University, many of them were teachers and students.

I snuck through the passage and ran into a teacher using one of the secret observation stations. With a system of runes and one-way illusions, these were typically used to catch students who were prowling around the stadium without permission.

But this teacher was not here peacefully. I had no idea what kind of teacher he was or what his name was. All that mattered was that he was wearing the white robes of the insurgents. Today, he simply disappears, according to the history books.

I snuck up behind him without him even noticing and, with a single swift slash of my sword, decapitated him. The blood sprayed onto the wall and me, but I continued onwards, killing another insurgent along the way.

I moved quickly and silently through a passage that led to the main parts of the coliseum. The ledge overlooked the arena floor, and I found another white-robed insurgent observing from the shadows. This one was a little more on edge than the others, and he wasn’t wearing a teacher or student uniform, so I had no idea what his original affiliation was.

Right as I was about to strike, he turned around with wide eyes, and I could see that he was prepared to shout. Instead, I opted for a thrust and sent my sword through his mouth, killing him instantly. I grabbed the body, let it fall to the ground quietly, and took his position.

I peered down at the arena floor and standing in the center was Kaladin’s grandfather facing off against two men. It only took a single glance to see that those two were different. They were not students, teachers, or civilians. Both of them were geared to the teeth in expensive-looking plate armor, and both welded swords were made of Mythril.

A quick glance from across the stadium showed that there were multiple white-robed insurgents viewing from different angles, some boldly presenting themselves in the stands, others hiding in the shadows of the tunnels or behind pillars. I dipped my mind into my Spatial Ring and pulled out my bow. The moment things kicked off, I would order my agents to begin the attack. I only needed to wait for them to get into position.

But I also want to see…old man…please don’t be a part of this. I—I really can’t look Kaladin in the face and tell him that I had to kill you.

I notched the arrow that was closer to a crossbow bolt and waited. The voices of those below bounced off the quiet arena walls, making it easy to hear them.

“Did you really wander out here to die like this, Rorken? It’s almost a shame to see a man who once stood above everyone go out in such a way,” the younger of the two insurgents said.

Rorken snorted. “‘Going out this way’? Who decided such a thing? To think they sent an Inquisitor still wet behind the ears to face me.”

Inquisitors? They are an elite branch of the Faith Arm of Amon-Ra. Even we know basically nothing about them other than they are the shadow ops of the church.

But this confirms everything. The Holy Kingdom of Arotal is making its first move.

The older Inquisitor stepped forward. “Rorken Bloodfallen, I request that you return Hubris to us and die a peaceful death. It is the will of our god.”

Rorken rolled his eyes and shifted his weight onto his other leg. “Will this, will that…will you just shut up and come die? I don’t care for this useless prattle, especially when you know I don’t have the damn blade anymore.”

“Look at this old man. Aren’t you afraid to die here? You are surrounded. There isn’t a single chance you get to return to your little family,” the younger inquisitor said as he pointed his sword at Rorken and gestured to the stands.

“Be careful. He is still an—” the older Inquisitor was cut off mid-sentence as a thick, murderous bloodlust erupted and permeated the entire arena.

What immense bloodlust…it’s even making my hands shake.

The old man rose slightly using his cane and grinned with his pearly white teeth. “Fear? Don’t you know, boy? I was one of god’s chosen. I fear nothing.”

“Good,” the younger Inquisitor said as he burst forward, cracking the ground beneath him with his speed.

But he didn’t even get halfway to the old man as a large golden sword struck the ground with the force of a missile and exploded into golden fire. The young Inquisitor was retreating as golden blades formed around the old man and launched out.

They were nothing more than golden blurs, and they weren’t just being aimed at the Inquisitors. With deadly accuracy, the swords went into the stands, completely obliterating the white-robed insurgents and stone seats. Those who did not die from the explosive force were running, crawling, and screaming, with limbs missing as they burned to death from the golden flames.

This—these spells are instant. Their force and utility, although completely simple in usage, are beyond what a Master mage could do. Is this what an Exarch is capable of? Do I even need to intervene?

And he isn’t attacking our agents…he knows…

I stepped out, forced mana into my muscles, and braced myself as I launched an arrow across the stadium. The bolt-sized arrow pierced the chest of an enemy mage about to release a Fireball, completely devastating him and ripping his torso from his legs. With that sign, my agents began their attack, killing the fleeing insurgents and initiating combat.

Kaladin’s grandfather was clearly aware of us and decided not to annihilate us. I would take that as an opportunity to help him while killing the insurgents. I continued to pick off mages and archers, sparing the center of the arena a glance.

It was a hell hole as golden explosions rocked the earth and shook my teeth. The two Inquisitors sprinted around as blurs, just barely dodging the spells and falling debris. They were entirely on the back foot and focusing on not dying instantly. An attack on an old man had turned into a one-sided slaughter.

I felt it in my gut. There were no signs or anything, but it was just a sixth sense I had. I sent another arrow at a white-robed woman fighting my agents and watched Kaladin’s grandfather turn his head and stare at nothing. That was when a golden shimmering barrier surrounded the old man, and there was a thunderous boom as the shield waved from a sudden invisible strike.

The barrier exploded, and something crashed into the stands. The air around the body-sized hole shimmered as a man stepped out from it, his mask shattering around his face.

I couldn’t hear what he said over the sound of explosions, but I knew the man. His white security uniform with golden accents…he was the man who was supposed to be defending the students and a War God.

Mason Fields betrayed us? Damn, this complicates things.