Bloodvow

Lyca helped the rider, who introduced himself as Alion, into the saddle and he offered her a hand up to take her to the tower with him. Alion was taller than he had looked sprawled on the ground, standing a head taller than she did and all his gear and armor made him move like he was rather broad. He moved with a weightiness to him that made him look a bit like a bulwark.

He hadn't said why the tower was his destination, but when she had asked, he had told her another lie. He had told her he had been in the area, traveling and that it had looked like a curious landmark so he had decided on a detour and ended up running into the bandits.

His lies sat wrong in her gut and they felt like a strange sort of pressure against the outside of her teeth. No one had ever lied to her, people back home either spoke honestly with her or told her if they didn't want to answer a question. She, in turn, did the same. The very act of lying had never even occurred to her.

Now, with all the new knowledge she had and after hearing Alion's lies, she wondered if it was because the Goddess of Truth had made her and everyone else back home.

"Just wait a moment," Lyca asked before she could accept Alion's hand and she scurried back into the underbrush to look for her bags.

They were still hidden well and she hummed a quick little ditty to ensure they were even better concealed and while she was loathe to leave the founding stone of the world itself and her tools behind, she only grabbed her supplies-satchel before she joined Alion again.

While she felt confused by his lies, there had been no malice to them and she did need a place to spend the night. Besides, she had no desire to run into those murderous riders if they had decided to make camp somewhere and wait out the night.

It was a swift journey on horseback and they arrived at the tower accompanied by the last, faint light of the sinking sun.

The door was a ruined, cracked-open mess, part of the dark stone scorched black and moss was growing in the cracks, turning the dark gray stone faintly green. They entered carefully and slowly, but the big, round room beyond the entrance, with a winding stair leading higher along the walls, stood empty.

"What brings you into these lands?" Alion asked as he heavily sat down on cold, damp stone. "I don't think you're from anywhere I know."

It made her pulse jump for a moment, cold claws of worried fear briefly hooking into her heart before she took a deep breath and shook it off. If she acted skittish and shifty, she would not do herself any favors.

"Really?" she asked instead of answering his question. "I think I look pretty normal."

Alion shrugged, undoing the buckles of his armor to take it off to inspect the chest piece, grimacing at the damage that had been dealt to it. "Well that's useless now," he muttered before addressing her again, "Your clothing style is foreign."

Oh, she hadn't thought of that. Glancing down, she looked at the clothes from home, the colors and woven-in patterns of her clan along the hem and sleeves and collar. Well, now she felt like a bit of an idiot. Then again, it wasn't like she had anything to change into that wasn't also from home.

Instead of answering him she glanced around the tower. It had been abandoned for quite some time and a battle must've taken place here, considering the busted and rotting front door and the blade- and scorch-marks left along the stone and stairs.

Whatever furniture had survived the battle in here was rotting, as well, a damp sort of chill hanging in the air. Behind her, Alion discarded the bloody, broken armor pieces with a rattling clang.

"If you got lost while traveling, I could show you to the next town if you'd like, though it's a couple of miles away," he offered. "You won't find a living soul near the sea since the Purging."

"The Purging?" she asked, turning back around to him. He had pulled out a piece of torn cloth and a canteen and was wetting the cloth to start wiping away the blood drying on his face.

"From when they killed the shorefolk," he said and glanced up at her, clearly noticing her confused expression. "The people made by the God of Ocean and Tides, they lived here before the wars. They were some of the first people wiped out when they refused to let war ships pass through their waters."

He gestured in the direction of the ruined settlement near the tower. "The only reason their ruins remain to this degree is because these buildings were made with their god's blessing. The blessing remained, still, even after they all died and its only been fading slowly. Nature won't fully reclaim these old homes for another two centuries at the very least."

"And the god?" she couldn't help but ask and he frowned, shoving his hand past the collar of his simple, dark blue tunic to scrub at his chest. His tunic was soaked in blood and still damp, however, so she wasn't sure how successful he was being.

"Dead, like all the other gods. All that's left are their children or those they chose to inherit their powers." The gods had died? All of them? Lyca had no idea what to think about that, especially she had half expected to see a god when crossing to the other side of the veil.

After a moment of thoughtful silence she just hoped that the lack of gods would make her job here easier.

"He was the... fourth god to fall?" Alion continued. "Or maybe fifth, I don't quite remember. Ever since his death you can't be anywhere near the shore during the full moon."

He shrugged and moved on, "But no matter, is there somewhere you wanted to go? Taking you there is the least I can do to repay you for your help."

"I'm not really going anywhere in particular," Lyca admitted. For just a second she wished she could lie as well, but the very thought made her recoil. Something in the very core of her being loathed the thought like nothing else. It nearly made her gag.

Still, the truth was innocent enough, wasn't it? She didn't have to tell him everything, after all. Or really much at all and, well, music existed everywhere. It had to, or this world was not worth living in. "I'm an instrument maker and I'm looking for materials."

She had arrived here in secret, she reminded herself. The Titans' enemies had no idea she was here. If she was careful, she might be able to get pointed in the direction of rare materials without running into her untimely death at the same time.

"Oh, really?" he sounded pleasantly surprised and rather curious. "What kind of materials are you looking for?"

"Special wood, rare metal and gems, things like that," she said, poking at the cold fireplace that had been built into the wall halfway between the entrance and the beginning of the winding staircase. What was left of the firewood was also a rotten mess. It was getting dark fast and she had to squint a little when she glanced back at her unexpected companion for the night.

"That's so cool," Alion said with a grin. "Oh, it's best if we don't light a fire, just in case my pursuers are still somewhere nearby. I don't know if they're going to head back straight away or spend the night near here in the woods."

That had been her worry as well. At least it wouldn't be a particularly cold night. Setting her satchel down, Lyca sat across from Alion, who gave up trying to scrub the blood out of his tunic and simply took it off to toss it on top of the broken armor pieces.

"What a shame," he muttered as he began to wipe the blood from his chest and stomach. "I really liked that tunic."

Lyca pulled out food and a water flask, spreading a little cloth on the ground to set everything down comfortably. She had been able to stretch her remaining supply with things she had found in the forest, berries and roots and nuts and flowers, but she knew that she'd have to figure out something better soon.

Alion did the same once he was dressed in a new, clean tunic and they traded pieces of their rations. It allowed Lyca to try some kind of bread with hazelnuts baked into it and poppy seeds along the crust. It was quite delicious, even if it was a little stale by now. She could only imagine what it might taste like fresh.

They talked more over dinner and Alion readily answered any and all of Lyca's questions, as long as she didn't ask anything about him. He didn't ask her anything about herself, either, however, as though he knew that she too wouldn't answer him.

It felt like an unspoken agreement between them to not touch upon anything personal as Alion told her more about the land they were in. As much as he knew anyway, which wasn't a whole lot beyond the broad strokes.

He told her that there had once been a flourishing trading center here that was destroyed and gone now and that the ocean god's power laid unclaimed at the bottom of the sea since their death. Lyca, in turn, answered any of his questions about instrument making.

She was the first one to yawn and he offered her a spare blanket from the saddlebags, which smelled like hay and horse and dust, but it kept the chill of the stone floor from seeping into her, which she was grateful for.

Lyca closed her eyes, but despite her exhaustion it was impossible for her to fall asleep. She felt just a little bit too wary, too startled after what had happened earlier. Instead, she remained awake even as her body grew quiet and still.

She must've looked like she was slumbering, for after a minute or so she heard the scrape of boots on stone as Alion got up.

It sounded like he stepped outside and she opened her eyes, squinting to make out shapes in the dark. His things were still here, but she heard him hush his horse and a moment later he rode away swiftly.

Sitting up fully, she rolled to her feet and stepped to the ruined entrance of the tower. The sky was covered in countless stars, a few clouds drifting along and she heard the distant noise of waves rolling along the shore. Alion was riding at a slow trot, the lack of light not allowing for a faster pace and Lyca dithered for a moment, before she followed him on quiet, swift feet.

Something felt off to the point where she didn't feel comfortable waiting in the tower for his return. Besides, his lies still rolled around the back of her mind, gnawing at her, much like how loose pebbles in her boots bothered her. She couldn't afford to not be careful.

It wasn't hard to keep track of him, not when all it took was a gentle little hum to briefly make the hoof prints of his horse shimmer ever so faintly on the ground, like gathered water in divots during a full moon reflecting the pale moonlight.

She caught up to Alion at the same spot where she had found him bleeding out two or three hours or so ago and his horse was standing off to the side, alert and waiting patiently, while he was muttering under his breath, on his hands and knees as he seemed to look for something on the ground.

Lyca carefully crouched near a tree, half covered by some shrubbery and she briefly, quietly shifted some larger stones aside to avoid them pressing painfully against her knees as she settled down to wait.

"Shit, what did I turn it into again? Pebble? No. This thing? No. Not a twig or leaf, I'm not that good yet. Shit." He picked up things only to toss them aside again. "I had only a second before they caught up, it can't have – aha!"

He grabbed what looked like a piece of broken rock and between his fingers it shifted and morphed, the color fading to something dark, until a palm sized tablet made of slate formed in his hands. With how dark it was Lyca easily spotted the faintly glowing writing on it even from her hidden position.

The crack of a twig breaking under heavy boots made both Lyca and Alion flinch, the latter pushing upright swiftly and whirling around on his heels to face the same five riders that had nearly killed him earlier as they stepped forward, emerging between trees.

One snapped his fingers to make the cold torch of his friend, a woman with shorn-short hair burst into flame. The sudden light made Lyca squint her eyes against the glow and Alion flinched back slightly, looking startled.

"Of course we couldn't find it when it looked like that," the leader of the group said, an annoyed pull to his mouth as he stepped forward. The guy had a pronounced stubble on his face and Lyca remembered him as the one who had been glad to return to their master. "How did you survive? I know I stuck my blade well and good through your gut."

Alion looked... he looked horrified. Terrified. He had no armor and no weapon, he hadn't taken anything with him when he had snuck out of the tower, most likely to avoid waking her. He had probably thought he'd just quickly ride down into the woods, get that slate and then return unnoticed. He had not counted on his pursuers showing up. That they had seemingly been searching for the same thing he had come back for.

Lyca's heart was beating faster in startled fright, the pounding of it heavy and powerful in her chest like the large, wide drums of the Canyon Clan. Her mouth was dust dry and she felt her pulse in her throat.

She knew these people had tried to kill Alion before, had left him and his horse to bleed to death and they were here to do it again. She had no idea what this slate was or why it was so important that they had come back for it, but she had to get away.

This was none of her business, she didn't know Alion. So what if he had been nice to her? Friendly and downright sweet during their dinner together. So what if he had given her bigger shares of his rations than she had handed him of hers, since she didn't have much left? So what if he had offered to repay her aid, his smiles warm and kind and glad.

She had people to protect, clans and Titans to guide home. Everyone counted on her, she was their only chance.

"Well, see, that's a funny story," Alion said as he backed up, hand falling to his hip like he was groping for something, only to come up empty. His sword was still back with his supplies and the color drained out of his face. He had nothing to protect himself with, outside of his linen shirt and bare fists. "How did you figure out I stil had it?"

None of her business, this was none of her business. If he died that was on him, he had picked this fight at some point before she had met him. Those were his enemies, not hers. So what if the eyes of the riders made a chill race down her spine, so what if Alion looked scared.

Her heart pounded louder and stronger, almost making her feel like she was back home, the Titan's deep, booming laugh at a great joke rumbling in her very bones.

Only, this was a terrible feeling. This didn't make her smile and grin and sing all the more as she worked. This feeling made her want to run and hide, like a mouse scurrying into a hole and holding carefully still.

One of the riders, this one with wide shoulders, tossed a little forest stone onto the ground at Alion's feet. "The 'slate' we took from you transformed back just as we made camp. You new to your powers or something? Because that was some shoddy amateur work."

"I'm more curious where he got them from," the leader said, head tipping to the side with cold, cruel curiosity. "That kind of ability is high level sorcery, but he's using it like a novice."

"Blessed by a demigod?" the woman with the torch suggested. "Doesn't really matter though, he's done for anyway. Best we do him in before he figures out how to kill us with his nonsense."

They drew their blades and Alion's expression was... terrible. Like he knew death had come for him in the shape of these riders, but he had to try and fight anyway. As though he knew that all he needed was a single chance, a tiny miracle, and he'd make it – and yet, also, that he wouldn't get it.

He had been denied a miracle once before, after all, when these riders had chased him down and he had still been armed and armored back then. It was only afterwards, when Lyca had come upon him, that death hadn't claimed him yet. Now it was here again to collect its due.

Lyca had never much thought about whether or not she was a brave person. She had always been safe and loved and how could she fear falling if she had a skybeast that would catch her every time? How could she fear the dark when the Titan's voice banished all that was frightening, her voice lulling everyone into safe slumber? No one had been intentionally cruel to her and her teachers had been demanding in a way that had seen her grow, not seen her diminished.

But, in the same vein, how could she watch Alion get slaughtered when she had always encouraged and supported the people around her? When she had made instruments for people who had struggled to sing, whose spirits had been so very dim on bad days?

When she had gripped her mother's hands so tightly and had let music and magic flow out of herself, stitching unseen wounds closed as her brothers had been born, screaming their way into this life, this world, determined and bloody.

When she had always admired the heroes in stories, who could do impossible, dangerous things just because they were right and just. She had dreamed of being like that should she ever see injustice anywhere.

The thought of watching Alion get killed, right before her eyes, was impossible. And yet, and yet, when she grabbed one of the larger stones beside her, her bravery felt a whole lot like terror and stupidity.

Lyca had killed fish before, the few times she had aided her father when she had been younger. He had shown her where to place the knife, how to clean out the guts, how to filet and cut and not waste anything. She remembered some of those lessons, still.

There were songs, songs the Titans had taught them if they had wanted to learn, about war and death, songs to hurt and break and kill, but each and every one of them made her want to throw up so she chucked the stone with all her might instead.

It was like pot tossing and yet not at all, but she was rather good at aiming at moving targets. Very good in fact, like most clan people, who spent their youth flying through the air, practicing throwing and catching countless of times.

She knew exactly how to aim and throw to hit her target, especially one as slowly moving as these guys as they leisurely approached Alion, their eyes void of compassion and kindness. There was only dark malice and an eager vileness that wanted to become ugly satisfaction upon a job well done.

There was enough distance between her and the riders that she could cause a distraction and run. A distraction was all Alion needed to reach his horse and escape. They just needed a chance, a little bit of chaos, to get away and she'd come back later to retrieve her hidden things.

The riders didn't wear helmets and so the stone cracked one perfectly across the temple, the broad shouldered man crumbling silently, hitting the ground with a heavy, dull thud, blood already welling forth, dark and red.

The riders whirled around and she tossed the second stone at the same time as Alion pounced. Ducking low, he bowled into the leader and the torch wielding woman, wrapping an arm around each and catching them off guard enough that he managed to throw them off their feet.

They tumbled into a tangled heap onto the forest floor, their fourth companion just barely dodging Lyca's stone but tripping over them the next moment, the man flopping down with wind-milling arms.

"Run!" Alion shouted as he rolled to his feet and he whistled sharply, Lyca jolting into motion.

Alion reached his horse first, which had come running for him, and in a motion so smooth and graceful it looked like he defied gravity, he swung himself up into the saddle without the horse slowing down even a little bit.

He reached out a hand to her a split second later, his other fumbling for the reins. Lyca grabbed his hand just barely in time and used it to hauled herself up, swinging a leg across a back slimmer than a skybeasts would have been and she overbalanced, but her grip on Alion kept her from sliding off of the other side.

The next second they were racing back to the tower at a full sprint, the riders behind them yelling and cussing as they struggled to get up, the one she hit with the stone alive but too dazed to move and they whistled for their own horses.

"Who are they?" she shouted over the rush of the wind, the pounding of hooves on soft earth and her voice came out laced with alarm and startled fright. Her hands shook as she gripped Alion's tunic tightly.

"Enemies," he shouted back, his own voice shaky and high with fear and stress. "Shit, I didn't think they'd be here!"

Obviously, or he would have at least taken his sword with him. Lyca clung to him as they reached the tower, the horse breathing heavily and Alion gave it a quick signal as soon as they had dismounted, making it race off into the dark.

"We're not running?" Lyca exclaimed in alarm and he pulled out the slate, his hands shaking hard enough that he nearly dropped it.

"They'll find us, they found me before," he said as he rushed back inside. Lyca looked back over her shoulder and she saw torchlight dancing in the forest, approaching fast enough that she knew the riders were already back on their horses.

Following Alion inside she saw him by one of the walls as he frantically patted along the stone.

Before she could ask what he was doing, he had found something by the fireplace, swiftly pressing the little slate tablet into a divot in the stone. With a grinding noise part of the wall started to slide back, only to stutter to a stop. The gap was big enough for Lyca to squeeze through, but not for Alion, he was too broad.

"Shit, fuck," he kicked the stone and shoved his shoulder against the movable wall, but it wouldn't budge.

Lyca's heart was pounding as hard as before as she glanced out the ruined doorway of the tower to see the riders approaching fast. They would leave the forest at any second now and then it would take them a handful of moments at most to make it to the tower.

She could sing the secret door open fully, she knew she could. She could make it do what it was meant to do, could fix what was broken because fixing broken things was an important thing for an instrument maker, but it wasn't safe to reveal her songs. She couldn't just –

Alion whirled to face her, his eyes wild. "Bloodvow," he rasped out. "I need a bloodvow from you."

"What?" her voice came out breathless and shaky and the next second, he lunged for his sword, cutting into his own hand, before he set it aside to grab the slate from its spot sunken into the wall and he held out his bleeding hand to her.

"I need you to vow that you will tell no one about my powers, about what I am," he hissed, holding out his hand, blood sliding down his wrist to drop onto the floor with a wet splat. It was a strangely loud sound. His gaze was hard and scared and his hand trembled still. "My blood will make it stick."

Bloodvows, she dimly remembered reading about them in one of the books back home. The books she had thought were only storybooks. About great mages and gods and demigods and creatures that called the spaces between light and dark home. A bloodvow was a binding ritual that could only be made and undone if both sides agreed to it.

"If you promise the same," she found herself answering, because they needed to go and she knew he said the truth. "You can't tell anyone about myself or my powers or what I'm doing or what I carry with me."

"I vow it," he said and she grabbed his hand, his blood sticky and wet and and swiftly cooling between their palms.

"I vow it," she answered and she felt the vow settle around her, like the words of their deal were getting inscribed into her very bones and veins and across her organs. They scrawled across her senses, wrapping around her heart and soul and then it was over.

Alion took a deep breath and before her eyes, he began to change. His body shrank a little and slimmed, his physique shifting, his features softening and his clothes began to sag on his frame and then a woman stood in front of Lyca.

She looked like Alion, the same black hair, the same gray eyes, the same thick eyelashes and nice looking features, only a little softer, a little rounder.

"Go," the woman or Alion – was it still Alion? – hissed at her and Lyca jolted into motion.

She would have to ask him – her? – what was going on once they were no longer in danger of getting skewered and hurriedly squeezed through the opening. Lyca reached a lightless, narrow tunnel that smelled like stale air and cold, damp stone.

More scraping sounds behind her and a grunt as the woman squeezed through and Lyca felt Alion bump into her and she hurriedly stepped forward to make space. There was the sound of fingers scrabbling over stone and she heard it when something got slotted into place. The slate, most likely. The door slid closed again with a grinding noise.

Their fast breaths sounded too loud in the complete and utter darkness and a mere handful seconds later they heard voices through the stone, ever so faintly. All of a sudden they were both reigning themselves back in, doing their best to quiet their breathing, a hush falling over the narrow space they were hiding in.

Lyca couldn't make out individual voices, but she heard it when things started to get tossed in the tower and the voices turned angry.

"The slate tablet?" she whispered, her voice barely loud enough to be heard over her racing heart.

"I removed it already, the door won't open again," Alion whispered back just as quietly, an exhale of words Lyca almost didn't catch. "They can't come in here." A pause. "I hope."

Right, because at least one of the riders was capable of some kind of magic and Lyca had never actually fought once in her life.

She had playfully wrestled before, sure, because it was fun, because the boy from the Iron Clan she had dated had loved wrestling and after him, because the girl from the Jewelry Clan, who she had dated had loved to see just how much they could clash with their songs without doing harm.

But none of that had been dangerous. None of that had made her feel like she had to fear for her very life. None of that had made her feel so painfully small and fragile.

It felt like an eternity passed before the noises on the other side of the wall stopped and then Lyca smelled it. Smoke.

"Fuck," Alion hissed. "They're torching this place. Come on, we need to go if we don't want to breathe in the fumes. I bet they're going to wait outside the tower to see if they can smoke us out."

Lyca had learned all about proper circulation during her various apprenticeships and just how quickly she could kill herself if she wasn't careful. She reached out, her fingertips touching the walls to her left and right and then she carefully started walking.

Within three steps she discovered that there were descending stairs in front of them and just barely avoided tumbling down, catching herself at the last second. They kept walking slowly, making sure to not slip and fall on the smooth, narrow stone steps. Lyca could heal injuries if she had to, sure, but there was no healing death.

"Are you still Alion?" she asked in a whisper and Alion hummed in confirmation.

"I can change things," Alion answered. "Myself easiest of all, the rest is still a, uh, work in progress."

That was an incredible feat of magic in Lyca's opinion. She didn't know how magic worked outside of songs. Though, then again, if she was being honest, that question was also nowhere near the top of her priorities at the moment. Survival came first, curiosity later.

"Who were these people?" she asked, voice growing a little bit sharper. "And why were they after you? What's up with that slate?"

"It's just something dumb," Alion said quickly, like she wanted to wave the topic aside and the lie felt like a fumbled song, discordant and obvious, and Lyca's emotions, barely restrained within her, snapped free like lightning cracking across the sky.

"Stop lying to me!" It came out in a sharp shout and she whirled around, almost slipping on the stairs, even if she couldn't see anything in the dark and Alion stumbled as she walked into her. "Tell me to fuck off if you don't want to talk about it, but stop lying!"

A heavy, startled silence followed and Lyca heard her own heavy breathing echo around them in the lightless tunnel that was so narrow they could not even walk side by side.

Alion exhaled after another heartbeat, her voice careful as she said, "I'm sorry. I just... I don't want you to get hurt." That was the truth, at the very least. "This doesn't concern you, after all."

It didn't, Alion was right about that. Still, Lyca had gotten involved in this matter, somewhat, at least, and she knew nothing about this world and its dangers. Knowing what troubles Alion dealt with gave Lyca the chance to avoid further conflict with those people.

"I want to know what's going on," she answered. "At the very least so I know where not to thread."

"Fair enough," Alion murmured. "Let's keep walking and I'll answer any of your questions as best I can. Honestly this time, I promise."

"Let's start with who you are," Lyca said as she turned back around and reached out until she touched both walls again, feeling her way down the stairs once more.

"I'm Alion, that part is true, no last name, no noble lineage or even much of a family to speak of. Well, not anymore," Alion said, her voice growing quieter. "But I think that's not what you want to know."

Lyca let her pointed silence speak for her and Alion cleared her throat.

"Years ago, a whole lot of years actually, I sought out the Godling of Change," she continued, voice solemn and heavy with remembrance. "I wanted to know if they could make me... right. Could change me so I could be what everyone else wanted. So I could fit in."

There was unspoken pain and sadness in those words and it made Lyca's heart ache quietly despite her upset about all the previous lying.

"People didn't love you for who you are?" she couldn't help but ask.

The clans weren't perfect, they were just people too, after all, but even if a family did not want their child, that kid was more than welcome elsewhere. At the very least, no matter what, they knew that their Titan loved them unconditionally.

"No, they didn't. I thought if I could change, then things would be better." Alion sighed and was silent for a moment. "But when I arrived at the temple, I found it half destroyed, the godling's blessed chosen ones slain everywhere. The war had not yet fully broken out back then, so I was quite... startled. When I entered the temple, I saw the godling on the ground, surrounded by dead enemies."

"Were they dead too?" Lyca asked, though she feared she already knew the answer.

"Not yet, but I didn't know that. Sometimes I think I should have run away instead of walking in, but I wanted to see if anyone was still alive. If I could help anyone. When I reached the godling, they grabbed me. The air was so heavy with the smell of blood that I could taste it and they apologized to me before pulling me under."

Alion's voice was heavy with remembrance, as though those memories were still very vivid and alive in her mind and had pulled her back into the past for a moment. To a time when she had walked among destruction and death. Lyca immediately felt a bit bad for pushing things, but before she could say anything, Alion continued.

"I don't know how long I was down there, in that space between life and death. The gods, they have this piece of their power that they either pass on to their blood children or one of their chosen ones eventually inherits it. The godling had no one left, so I got that piece. They were dying when they pushed it into me and the last thing they told me was to sleep and wait."

"For what?" Lyca asked.

Alion sighed heavily before she answered, "I don't know what I was supposed to wait for. I was still aware, in an abstract sense, of the world around me and the time that passed. Of the wars that were being waged, the people that got wiped out and the stagnant stalemate the world ended up in. I only know the broad strokes of what happened after the godling grabbed me, however."

That sounded awful and it was all the truth, too, not a single thing sounded like a lie. Lyca had no idea what to think as she slowly kept moving down the stairs, feeling out her path with careful caution. "Why did you wake up after all this time?"

"I don't know." Alion sounded a little confused and frustrated about it. "All I know is that around two or so weeks ago, I opened my eyes and fell out of the ribcage of the godling. And now I'm a demi-god and the chosen inheritor of their powers. I've only just started to figure out how to use them."

"And these riders today?" Lyca asked, briefly wondering if there was anything around that she could light on fire just to see where she was going. Probably not, though. "Why were they after you?"

"The godling imparted me with the knowledge of various things they had hidden away in their temples before they died," Alion said after a moment of silence, voice a little hesitant. "So I knew of the hidden room in their main temple that I woke up in. When I opened it, I found this slate and it described this place, this tower. It also mentioned an artifact of great importance that's supposed to be here."

Alion sighed softly and added, "It seemed as good a place as any to start looking. I had no idea what else to do and it wasn't like I still had a home to go back to." Her voice was grim and held a defeated note. "Anyone I once knew is long gone."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Lyca said softly, quietly, and Alion laughed a brief, humorless noise. It was an aching, tired sound.

"In all fairness, I think I didn't have a home before all this mess, either. Not really. But... thanks. I don't know who these riders are but, uh, the symbol they carry? It once belonged to the Goddess of War and Victory. I think her son uses it now and the riders are his."

That made Lyca frown. "When did you run into them? Are they trying to find old artefacts?" Maybe they were a group that collected things made by gods for their lord?

"They showed up out of nowhere, saying that their master sent them," Alion answered and Lyca's frown deepened and worry started to close long fingers around her heart, squeezing slowly. "They were after the slate, but they had no idea who I was."

Alion sounded chagrinned as she added, "I've never fought anyone in my life, so I kind of just... ran away. I got a weapon and armor along the way, but I don't know how to use the sword. I was just hoping it might dissuade people from attacking me or stealing from me if they saw I was armed."

Alion's voice was soft and shameful when she tacked on with a whisper, "I... I was so scared to fight when they caught up to me earlier I dropped the sword when I drew it."

Lyca could understand that all too well and she grimaced in sympathy. The very thought of battle, the desperate scrabble for survival, the other person's equally strong desire to emerge the victor – the living victor – was frightening and terrible. The thought of having to take a life just to keep hers made her gut clench.

A beat of silence and then Alion groaned, "Shit, I forgot my sword up there." Right, she had set it aside to offer her bloody hand instead.

"We'll try to get it back later," Lyca tried to reassure her. "Once the flames die down." The sword should survive that, unless the riders had taken it for themselves. Their provisions, however, certainly wouldn't and she was deeply glad that she had hidden her other things before this mess. Losing her tools would have hurt.

And it would have been a nightmare if those riders had seen the founding stone. They surely would have stolen it even without knowing what it was.

"Do you, um, do you mind if I turn back?" Alion asked. "I don't want to be a woman right now."

"Of course, I don't mind," Lyca said and she heard Alion transform back, the way his clothes rustled slightly, the cadence of his steps growing a little heavier.

The next moment, her foot hit hard ground where she had expected another step to be and she made a surprised noise. "Stairs end here," she called over her shoulder and Alion hummed in relieved understanding.

There was nothing in the immediate vicinity when Lyca stepped forward and tried to feel around, her hands meeting only air and Alion audibly did the same beside her, boots scraping in a cautious, searching shuffle.

"We really need some light," Alion muttered. "Oh, maybe I can transform something into a torch? If we can find something made of wood perhaps? If elements are at least similar to each other its easier to make them take on a different shape."

Lyca knew she could sing something aflame easily, but she needed something that could be set aflame in the first place. If she really put her everything into it, she could even slowly turn stone into lava. It took quite some time, however, especially without the aid of an instrument and the amount of lava she could produce depended on the instrument and song as well.

But she remembered the warnings of the Titans well and didn't dare reveal her magic.

Alion was silent for a moment, then he said, "I am weirdly scared of there being a sudden hole in the ground that I'm going to fall into."

In all honesty, it didn't sound all that unrealistic. Who knew how this space below the tower was designed? Who knew if it was even safe to be down here after all this time with no care and upkeep to ensure the floor and ceiling stayed where they were meant to be?

That was the moment Lyca noticed the faintest hint of salt in the air, a scent she was more than familiar with. It smelled like the ocean, which was more than confusing, considering that the shoreline was still a little bit away from this place.

Before she could speak up, the faintest of glows began to appear further away and it grew little by little, slowly allowing her to ever so slightly make out the outline of the large hallway they stood in and two crushed doors of stone at the end.

She glanced at Alion and she could just barely make him out in the dark. "Let's go," she murmured and he nodded.

They were still careful and cautious as they walked forward, but the floor was steady and solid. The doors were in pieces, and there were statues to the left and right of the doors, but they seemed to be posed in an inviting rather than guarding manner. They were largely intact, but someone had beheaded the statues, leaving their faces a broken mess on the floor below.

Lyca and Alion exchanged a glance before they climbed past the partially crushed doors.

Beyond the doors laid what she could only call a ruined temple, the ceiling above had caved in entirely to expose the star speckled sky and she saw the tip of the now brightly burning tower slightly to the left, flames climbing across stone and reaching up into the sky in flickering licks.

That was the glow that had guided them here.

Plants grew through the cracked open ceiling and green crept across the weathered, ruined surroundings and floor. Everywhere where the sun reached, vegetation had made itself home and even in the shade some small, hardy plants had taken root.

Whatever had happened to this temple, it had happened a long, long time ago. It also meant that the secret entrance of the tower was utterly useless.

"It was all for nothing," Alion whispered, his expression full of disbelief and his tone wavering between incredulousness and slowly growing anger. "Following that cryptic as shit writing on the slate, getting hunted and nearly killed, dragging you into this and it's all –"

He broke off with a rough, half growled noise as he sharply turned away and Lyca could guess what he meant. It was all for nothing, for this secret place had already gotten discovered. Had already gotten destroyed.

"Let's look around," Alion said after taking a deep breath, before he hurriedly added, "I mean, would you help me? Please? There is – there is supposed to be something down here. Something important. If it was made by a god, surely it wouldn't have gotten destroyed that easily, right?"

He didn't mention that it might have gotten stolen by now and Lyca decided against saying so, as well. They had to wait somewhere anyway, until they were sure their pursuers were well and truly gone and they could figure out a way out of here. Searching through the rubble was a good a way to pass the time as any.

"Alright," Lyca agreed. She really didn't like the half-desperate, half-resigned tone of Alion's voice, though, she had to admit. She hoped they'd find something down here, anything to give him a little hope. To let him hold on to something now that the slate that had guided his steps was a bust.

While Alion began to poke through the rubble closest to him, Lyca climbed over some large ceiling chunks and ruined statue pieces, the statues too broken and weathered to make out much beyond the fact that they had portrayed some kind of half-humanoid, half-fish creature.

She almost slipped on some moss on her way down the other side of the hill of rubble and she noticed that the smell of the ocean was growing stronger. Following the scent she soon realized why. There was a large pool of saltwater, surrounding a broken altar.

Rough stone plates lead across the water to more polished looking stone steps, half of them broken and cracked. Whatever statue had once resided over the altar, protective or benevolent or watchful, it was unrecognizable now. It's face and half it's body had gotten crushed to nothing.

Stepping forward cautiously, she noticed that the pool laid still and silent and dark, like it had no bottom. No, she realized as she looked closer, it only looked bottomless. The fire from the burning tower overhead illuminated just enough that she could make out the polished obsidian lining the bottom and the walls of the pool.

Nothing seemed to live within it, however, not even algae had formed. Carefully setting foot on the first stone plate, she found that it was steady and solid and one of the few unbroken things left in this place.

Hopping forward until she reached the stairs of the altar, she made her way up, taking care to not step on any loose or broken bits. This close she saw that something had been on the altar before and that it had gotten hacked into with a sharp blade before it had gotten crushed by the broken statue looming overhead.

A staff of some kind had been here, the wood half rotten and the scrolling of runes and most likely incantations broken and partially faded. Actually, the slices looked like they had broken the enchantment, each one crossing through runes in a way that appeared to be strategic.

What were the chances that this staff was the relic mentioned in the stone tablet?

A glance over her shoulder showed that Alion was still on the other side of the rubble pile and if she strained her ears, she could hear him grunt as he shifted a larger stone out of the way.

"Alion," she called out, careful to not raise her voice to the point where it could be heard beyond the opening above. "I think I found something."

She heard the grinding crash of a hastily released stone and the scraping, gritty sound of footsteps clambering up the big rubble hill before Alion appeared and he climbed back down on her side as quickly as possible.

He didn't hesitate using the stone plates to hop towards the altar, rightly assuming that they were safe to step on since she was already there and hadn't called out a warning for him to watch his footing.

His hopeful expression fell when he looked at the ruined staff. His shoulders slumped and the almost smile on his face vanished.

"Shit," he hissed, his lips twisting bitterly. "It really was all for nothing, wasn't it?"

"Maybe someone can repair it," Lyca suggested but he shook his head.

"Enchanters were wiped out a long time ago. They were one of the few people who had powers that hadn't been gifted by a god. Their magic has been lost forever."

"Could someone have survived in secret?" she asked and Alion closed his eyes, an expression of bitter disappointment on his face.

"It's possible, but I wouldn't even know where to look for such a person," he said, staring down at the shattered staff like it had shattered his hopes just as thoroughly, the slump of his shoulders a mix of exhaustion and hopelessness. "If they managed to keep their survival hidden until now, they are going to continue doing so."

Lyca had no idea what to say to that. She knew too little about this world to even guess where someone might hide or who to ask to find them. It might be a months if not years long search to find such a person and she already had an important task to take care of. She needed to make an instrument to save her people.

"Let's find a spot to sit down," Alion said after another moment of staring at the splintered staff, voice a bit duller now than before. "Let's wait until we're sure my pursuers are really gone this time and then I want to leave this place and never come back."

He turned and left, hopping across the stone plates again and Lyca frowned down at the staff a moment longer before she followed him. Alion sat down on the nearest piece of rubble that had a smooth enough surface and stared morosely into the dark.

She sat down beside him and the silence settling over them and the ruined temple felt heavy and bleak. Ever so faintly she heard the tower burning, the fire bright and crackling.

"I guess I'll just... wander now," Alion murmured after a minute. "My home's long gone, as is my family and I didn't have any friends back then, either. I guess I'll have to figure out a new life for myself."

His smile was devoid of humor and looked more sad than anything else as he added, "I think that's why I clung so hard to that tablet. It was something to do. It was... it gave me direction, I suppose. A purpose."

Lyca swallowed down the urge to hum, to help ease his ache and make it settle over him a little gentler. A little less all-encompassing. Instead, she reached out to grip his shoulder and he faintly leaned into the touch after a moment.

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this," he said and glanced at her. "But... truth be told I'm glad I'm not alone right now, either."

She gave his shoulder a little squeeze. "I'm glad I ran into you." Even with all that had happened she found she was still glad. Alion had already told her so much more about this world and she knew he must have more stories yet to tell. She felt... a little less alone. "Just don't forget that you wanted to help me find a town."

"Right." He took a deep breath and held it for a moment, thinking, before he exhaled and now he looked a little nervous, a little hopeful despite the situation. "Hey, if you're not sick of me yet, I could help you look for materials for your instruments? Only if you want to, of course."

Lyca hesitated for just a moment, before she nodded. "That would be nice." She knew too little about this world to feel confident in moving through it openly. Alion's help would be appreciated, at least until she had a better idea of where to go, where to search, what to look for. He might even help her blend in better.

She could always ask him to give her some space once she had gathered the materials she needed and could seclude herself while she built the instrument.

"Thanks, I, um, I don't want to be alone," he murmured, ducking his head a little like the admission shamed him. "I know I need to figure things out for myself at some point, what to do with these powers and who I am and all that, but I'd be happy if I could tag along with you for a bit."

"I'd be glad to not be alone, either," Lyca admitted and let her hand slip away to bump their shoulders together instead. "Where I'm from, things are usually super lively."

A home filled with family and skybeasts, neighbors outside who were happy to chat, though they knew to leave her alone when she was busy. Those who were not fond of company were given a friendly sort of distance, with the understanding that they were welcome to join neighborly gatherings and the big, clan wide celebrations whenever they liked.

There was always the Titan, as well, breathing and singing and walking, the cry of the birds, the faint creaking and shifting of the houses, the crash of waves against the Titan's legs.

Lyca had grown up surrounded by life, surrounded by song and noise and while this world was full of life it was also... quieter. At least right now. And much, much larger.

Alion bumped his shoulder against hers in return and then leaned back with a sigh, looking a little less crushed by their destroyed find. "I'll try to nap for a bit," he murmured, rubbing his hands over his face. "I'm so tired."

Lyca was still a little too wound up to relax, but she knew she'd be exhausted soon herself. They really needed to catch up on sleep if they wanted to travel at a swift pace as soon as they could safely climb out of this massive hole. In all honesty, Lyca couldn't wait to leave this place behind, too.

They sat in silence, the tower burning brightly, the light reflecting off of the pool of saltwater in front of them. At one point she heard Alion's breaths deepen and he began to snore softly. When she glanced at him she saw a small frown on his face even now.

Looking down at her hands, Lyca realized that she still had his blood clinging to her palm from the bloodvow. Alion had wrapped his cut hand in a strip of linen sometime after they had reached the temple and had started searching, but it was partially blood soaked by now.

Getting to her feet she walked towards the pool to wash the blood off and then she stared up at the ruined altar. At the broken statue still half residing over it.

These were the remnants of people long gone, of a god slain for reasons she found utterly unreasonable. So much death and destruction had apparently happened in this world and a part of her almost didn't want to lead the clans here.

She had to, however, it was necessary for their continued survival to get through the veil.

She stared at the altar for moments longer, before she straightened and hopped across the stone plates again towards the ruined steps. She carefully started to remove pieces of the statue to reveal the ruined staff beneath.

The pieces of the staff felt the way they looked when she shifted them them to put them in a line. Rotten and slick and covered in growing, creeping green. She even found pieces of a broken pearl that must've been quite large before and it had either been part of the staff or the statue.

It must've been a beautiful staff once, longer than she stood tall. It had clearly been crafted by skilled hands, hints of carved decorations still visible on it, winding up towards the top of the staff. It was harder to figure out what the very top had looked like, but it likely had been beautiful, too.

Lyca was far from unfamiliar with repairing things. There were only so many resources on the Titans and while those regrew, even the crystals and metals, though those took quite some time, they had all learned to be conscious of what they had. They all repaired what broke as often as possible.

There were numerous songs for fixing things, to make the ripped ends of threads reconnect in order to make clothes hale and whole again or to repair broken clay bowls and splintered wood.

Lyca had repaired her brothers' toys countless of times since they had been born, either one or both of the twins coming to her with fat tears rolling down their chubby cheeks as they toddled over, upset but determined to ask for help.

They had cried the worst when they had accidentally broken their father's favorite figurine last year and they had been determined to sing with her to make it right again.

Lyca could fix this whole place up, if she was willing to spend weeks upon weeks down here, singing things whole once moer. It would be far easier with an instrument, but it would still take time. Time she wasn't going to spend on a place long abandoned and most likely completely forgotten.

Lyca stared and stared at the staff, Alion's snores rising louder behind her, as she debated with herself, and in the end, she exhaled roughly, hoping she wasn't going to regret this.

She began to sing, softly, quietly, so she wouldn't wake her companion, gently letting the music wash over the pieces. She was rather surprised though, at how eagerly the broken staff soaked up the magic.

She had worked with eager materials before, materials who downright leapt into her hands, who wriggled in joy at being filled, at being formed, at being made something great.

This was a different. This was hungry. The staff yearned to be whole again, to return to the purpose it had been given, to hum with its own magic once more and settle into hands that wanted to use it. To fight for a world that was better than it had been. Than it was now.

She got lost in the music as the staff soaked up her magic and began to repair itself. She barely had to do anything, barely had to guide it as the wood rejuvenated itself, the growing green algae vanishing as the weathered pieces filled back out and smoothed over and regained a shine as though they had just gotten freshly polished.

This wood was something special, she realized, something that was used to holding and guiding powerful magic. This was the type of wood she'd need for her instrument.

The pieces reconnected with each other quickly once they had regained their previous, lost healthy fullness and luster. Each piece that slotted back into space was greeted with a soundless breath of relief.

Before she knew it, the last splinter melded with the staff and the enchantment on it absolutely inhaled the magic of her song, as a glow starting to crawl up the runes from the very bottom, winding up and around the staff.

The second it reached the top a pulse of magic went through it and the staff laid before her on the altar, now hale and whole and thrumming with an ancient, reawakened power. A power that greeted her like a cat happy to see her, curling around her in a soft brush, before it settled back down again.

The staff indeed was as beautiful as she had suspected and, to her quiet surprise, it was made of two types of wood.

There was a solid, hard core of wood in ocean blue and it was was surrounded by dark green wood that wound up the staff in spiraling waves, like the endless push and pull of the ocean had traveled up towards the top. Here, the staff flared out like a four fingered hand, holding an opalescent, shimmering pearl the size of her fist.

Her fingers curled around the staff and it kept humming with eager power, though she knew she couldn't use it. She wasn't capable of wielding that type of magic. Behind her, Alion still snored, too deeply asleep in his exhaustion to have woken by her soft singing.

Stepping away from the altar and hopping across the pool, she paused beside Alion for a moment, before nudging him in the shin with her foot until he jerked awake with a snort.

"Wha –" he slurred, still fighting out of sleep's embrace, only to jolt fully awake as he stared at the staff she held out to him.

His voice trembled faintly, caught between disbelief and an aching sort of hope as he whispered out a single, breathless, "How?"

"Don't ask," she said and his mouth clicked closed. "We have a vow, remember? You can't tell anyone about this."

She likely would not have done it without the vow, she could admit. Would have forced herself to sit through his grief and upset and consoled herself with the knowledge that she needed to protect her people first and foremost, despite being able to fix the situation.

But the bloodvow would force him to keep his silence and it could not be broken without both of them agreeing to undoing it. It was a powerful piece of magic that he had handed to her in a moment of desperation. She could work with that.

She could help him feel better with that.

"I have so many questions," he whispered and hesitantly held out his hands and she gladly handed the staff over.

The second the staff came to rest in his palms, his fingers curling around it, an exhale of relief went through the ruined temple, a last sliver of godly power evaporating now that it's guarded relic was in good, safe hands.

Alion stared at her wide-eyed, before staring down at the staff. "Oh," he breathed out. A small smile appeared on his face, trembling faintly, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing, what he was feeling. "Hello there."

The next moment, he dashed a hand over his eyes, but it couldn't hide the way he had started to tear up all of a sudden. "Thank you," he said and his voice wavered a little and Lyca knew he was talking to her this time as he pressed his hand over his eyes to hide the way they filled with tears.

"You're welcome," she said and he sniffled once, the trembling smile turning into a toothy grin as he tightened his grip on the staff, bringing it up against his chest.

"I think I was never meant for the sword," he murmured, still keeping his other hand pressed over his face to hide his eyes. "This... have you felt this, when you held it?"

She had no idea what he meant, but considering the fact that the staff was not meant for her, nor for her type of magic, she doubted it. "No."

"It likes me," he whispered, his voice breaking briefly over the words. "I don't think anyone ever liked me."

"I like you," Lyca said and then he was crying despite his best efforts. She sat down beside him to pat his back as he sobbed over the magical staff.

"What a fucking day," he sniffed as his cries petered out, wiping his hand over his face to scrub the tears away. His eyes were puffy and his nose was running, but his smile looked more unburdened. "Ugh, I'm so tired."

She gave his back a final pat and sat back. "We need to sleep if we want to keep traveling."

That was the moment she remembered the huge gem she was lugging around with herself and she bit back a grimace. She couldn't make that float with her songs while she had company and especially not if they headed towards civilization, but maybe... maybe Alion's horse could pull it?

"Let's find a more comfortable spot," Alion murmured and they got up, searching for a spot where the floor was largely clear of rubble. Once they were successful, they kicked some stray small stones and pebbles aside to get as comfortable as possible.

They laid down, their backs pressed together and even though the floor was hard and cold, Lyca found herself falling asleep within minutes, Alion snoring beside her while holding the staff in his arms like the way her brothers had slept with their toys clutched close.

She woke to the morning sun shining through the hole above, her whole body sore and she felt rather cold. She chased the chill away with a hummed little ditty and then she poked Alion awake. "We should get going."

It took them a bit to find a way out of the hole, since neither of them wanted to try to go back through the burnt out tower. When they dragged themselves out onto grass at last, Lyca saw that the tower was a sooty, ashy husk.

Her growling stomach reminded her that all their food was gone and Alion sighed heavily. "I need to go and buy new clothes," he muttered, only to make a face. "Which means I need to get money first."

"We'll figure it out," Lyca said while he got to his feet and whistled sharply. It didn't take long before his horse appeared, snorting and nosing at him in greeting while he gave it gentle, affectionate pats.

"That's three now," Lyca said and he glanced at her questioningly and she nodded at his horse. "You are liked by three of us now."

He blinked then ducked his head and scratched his horse's chest, which leaned into the touch, lifting its head for better access. "Stop trying to make me cry first thing in the morning."

He stepped back and got into the saddle, holding out a hand to her. "Come on, if we don't run into any trouble, we should get to a town by tomorrow and I know of a river along the way where we can get some drinking water, at least."

"We need to pick up the rest of my stuff first," Lyca admitted as she took his hand. "I hid it before I found you."

"Smart," Alion said. "I don't know if anything would have survived that fire."

While the gem would have, the riders would have stolen it. Speaking of, those five people seemed to be well and truly gone. Neither Lyca nor Alion spotted anyone else around the tower as they looked around, careful, cautious, before heading back into the forest.

Her things were where she had left them, dutifully hidden by the shrubbery and when she rolled out the massive gemstone, Alion stared at it with wide eyes.

"I know I'm not supposed to ask," he said. "But there is no way you are merely a simple instrument maker."

She felt herself tense a little as he got out of the saddle, watching him from the corner of her eye. She liked Alion, had risked herself for him, but she would not tell him anything. She couldn't.

"I don't care, though, not after all your help," he said and she exhaled softly with relief. "You could have brought out a long-dead god and I would roll with it at this point. Well, after some freaking out maybe."

He stared at the large, beautiful gem, then tipped his head to the side in thought. "I may be able to do something about it's cumbersome size, though."

He reached for his staff and Lyca was about to say something when he gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm not going to change what it is, or how powerful it is. And don't tell me that it isn't powerful, I can sense some insane magic inside that thing. I'll just ask it to be more convenient."

Lyca hesitated and he waited patiently for her to come to a decision.

"It can't break, it has to stay whole," she said before removing her hands from it. She had no idea what she'd do it if broke. What it would do to her and her spirit, but it truly was too big to drag around all the time, especially once she reached settlements where people lived who might see it or who might find it despite her hiding it as well as possible.

She could have left it in the mountain with the hearts, but the worry of the Titans' enemies returning there and finding it had been too great. She didn't want to leave the gem behind. She wanted it with her so she could get started on the instrument as soon as she had all the materials necessary.

"I won't," Alion said. "I change things, I don't destroy them."

The scrolling on the staff began to glow faintly as he reached out with his free hand to press it to the gem. A moment later, Lyca felt it when the gem seemed to exhale in an agreeable manner. And then it began to shrink.

Before long, Alion closed his fingers around a round, beautiful little marble and held it out to her with a smile. "Pocket sized, for your convenience, my lady."

Lyca took it and couldn't resist making a brief little hum that resonated with the gem. It was just as powerful as it had been previously. It had lost nothing of its properties, of its essence and it remained a piece of the foundation that had made the very world itself, it had just... changed shape.

"Will it turn back?" she asked and Alion shrugged.

"If I turn it back, yeah. Otherwise the change is permanent." He grinned at her. "This staff makes using my magic a whole lot easier. It's a big help, it's almost like it's teaching me, too." His grin softened into a warm smile. "This is the least I can do after all that you've done for me."

Lyca put the gem in a breast pocket of her jacket and felt it's power hum gently against her chest. This changed everything, she realized. She could make any instrument now, not just something that was huge enough to incorporate the gem.

It also drastically reduced the amount of material she needed for said instrument. Which meant she had less that she needed to enchant. This... this changed everything. She might get to see her family sooner than expected.

She pressed her hand over the hard, round outline of the gem and just breathed deeply for a moment. Hope seemed to fill her chest, making it feel bigger so more air seemed to fit into her lungs. The future, the time she had to spend here alone, didn't look quite as troubling and bleak anymore. She no longer felt as alone, either.

She gave Alion a relieved, glad smile and he grinned back at her, happy to be of help. When Lyca pulled out the bag filled to the brim with tools next, he lent her a helping hand, grunting softly in surprise at the weight. At least her clothing and personal supplies bag was still here and untouched.

They put the bags on his horse, tying everything down right behind the saddle and as they worked he asked her, "What sort of materials are you looking for for your instruments? I'll help you ask around and maybe I can even transform some pieces for you. Well, once I learn how."

"I need wood or metal or stone or more gems like the ones used for your staff," she said as she reached out to tap said staff in his grasp. It's magic briefly licked up against her fingertips, like it was greeting a friend. "It's made of powerful things. I need something like that."

Alion paused, staring at her in surprise, before he frowned, looking a little troubled.

"That's... going to be hard," he said hesitantly after a moment. "This staff is a relic, made by the God of Ocean and Tides. I know that the gods made other relics as well, but I have no idea where those are of if any materials were left over."

He paused and closed his eyes, his brow creasing like he was searching through his memories. The staff in his hand hummed faintly and he blinked his eyes open again.

"There is one place where we might find records of what they created and how and with what materials and perhaps who might have them," he said. "The Magia Academia. It's the world's largest and oldest magic school and it was home to the mages of this world. Or, it was, before the Purging was said to have wiped out all the mages. It was one of the places that held out the longest and it's said that boundless knowledge and treasure await within."

"That sounds very... fantastical," Lyca said carefully and Alion nodded grimly. "Let me guess, those tall tales aren't true?"

"No one knows, because no one can enter the academy," he answered to her surprise. "As far as I know, the academy lies in the lands a demigod has claimed after the war and no one's been able to challenge him for it. He holds the second largest territory out of all of them, people call him the Void Knight."

Alion gestured in the vague direction of the tower. "While traveling here I heard some stories about him and the other demigods. He's very dangerous and one of those you can't reason with, it's also said he's the only demigod capable of using the magics of old."

He paused and frowned. "So I guess there is still one mage alive these days, but I don't know if he counts. A demigod's magic works different compared to a mage's, it's why mages were such a threat to them." He ran a hand through his hair. "Either way, I'm pretty certain we'll find our answers in the academy, but... we have to be ready for him, as well."

He paused and tipped his head to the side before adding, "Or we can try and find one of the other demigods to ask them, but in all honesty, most live in manors and castles or other well guarded places and they’re nearly impossible to reach. Some of them are holding audiences every once in a while, though, so we could wait for one of them to open their gates."

There was no way Lyca was going to risk everything by willingly meeting demigods. What if they could tell who she was? Who might be able to sense what kind of magic lived in her very veins and bones? It seemed less risky to try and sneak past a single man, a single demigod, than meet another willingly face to face and out in the open.

"I'd like to avoid running into any demigods as much as possible," she answered. "Or attending audiences with them."

Alion exhaled and bit his lower lip before he glanced at her. "Are you sure you don't want to use other materials?"

He sounded tentatively hopeful and Lyca thought of the song that waited patiently to be sung, of the veil that separated this part of the world from a seemingly endless ocean. She thought of the clans and Titans she had to guide home to a land that carried a dark and bloody history.

"Only if there is something else that is of equal power," she said and considering how he pressed his lips together, the answer was no. "I need the most powerful materials I can get." She paused and tacked on, "You don't have to go with me, Alion. I can go alone."

"Don't be an idiot," he said immediately, frowning at her. "Like I'd let you walk into the Dragonlands all on your own. You don't even know where the academy is. No, I'm going with you, it's the least I can do." He fiddled with his staff. "We're just going to have to figure out how to get past the Knight. Easy peasy, right?"

That was the moment both their stomachs growled, reminding them of a far more immediate matter and Alion laughed, the pensive mood broken. He looked a little brighter, a little less burdened by the world, ever since he had gotten the staff. As though succeeding in the thing he had set out to do had invigorated him.

"Alright, supplies first, then impossibly powerful and dangerous knights second," he said, reaching for the saddle. "Come on, let's go."