What they were witnessing was chaos and terror in its purest form.
There were hundreds of injured—if not dead—scattered everywhere, along with completely destroyed shops and houses engulfed in flames. Every available member of the Civil Forces was aiding in the rescue efforts, pulling out those trapped under the rubble and taking the wounded to the nearest hospitals. Healers, dressed in their distinctive black uniforms, rushed back and forth, tending to those still breathing.
"No freaking way." Emrys couldn't believe the level of destruction before his eyes.
"And that's not all," Gawain added, gesturing toward the sky with his chin.
When Emrys looked up, panic surged through his chest. His pulse pounded in his ears, and a cold sweat soaked his back.
The sky was covered in what looked like golden serpents slithering through the air, all stemming from a massive pillar of light rising in the distance, toward the rainforest.
Emrys turned to his cousin, searching for answers, but it was clear neither Gawain nor anyone around them understood what was happening. No one knew what that light pillar was or what the undulating auroras meant. It could be the harbinger of a catastrophe... or something even more uncertain.
Gawain had planned to take him to the Medical Brigade's headquarters, where he could get bandages and meds until a healer could tend to him. But halfway there, someone intercepted them.
"Emy! Wain!" a woman called out urgently.
They both turned, recognizing the voice. It was Iseult, running towards them dressed in the black uniform of the healers. Before Gawain could say a word, she had already laid Emrys down on the ground with precise, almost mechanical movements.
After a quick assessment of his injuries, she rolled up one sleeve, revealing a coppery metal bracelet coiled up her arm like a vine. The small, creamy jade stones embedded in it sparkled softly with each motion of her wrist.
Iseult began murmuring in Anatta, and the jades started to emit a misty glow. Beneath her palm, a white circle appeared, inscribed with intricate symbols spinning counterclockwise. Without wasting time, she guided it over the wounded areas, and they began to heal—slowly but steadily.
When the treatment was over, all three exhaled in relief. Iseult relaxed her tense expression and placed her hand firmly on Emrys's head, ruffling his hair in an attempt to calm her unsettled heart.
"Ugh, come on!" Emrys tried to protest, but pressed his lips together in resignation. On any other day, he would've grumbled about his messed-up hair, but this time he let his sister do as she pleased.
Satisfied, Iseult moved on to treat Gawain's scrapes. Then she straightened up, adjusted her uniform with a practiced motion, and delivered the new directive: every Civil Forces member still on their feet had to team up with a healer and assist in the most affected areas.
"I got a message from Risna. Apparently, our district wasn't the only one hit," she explained as they hurried through a shortcut toward the commercial zone. "Even the capital's a mess. Level One alert has been declared."
Both boys gasped. Level One was the highest state of emergency. It meant the Disir Army, made up of the four most powerful legions in Hathor, would be deployed.
The kingdom had already reached Level Three when the beasts attacked months ago, which led to the Second Legion being stationed on Belenos's outskirts. But the other legions were still scattered on classified missions. Now, not only would all three remaining legions be mobilized, but also the legendary Order of Laurus.
Their eyes lit up with excitement. Every warrior dreamed of joining the Disir army, and they were no exception—even if they knew their skills didn't come close to meeting the minimum requirements.
Even Emrys, who'd rather file documents than step onto a battlefield, felt a wave of pride at the news. The fact that the kingdom had entered Level One alert was no small matter, but knowing his talented older brother would be returning home after months away filled him with anticipation.
Suddenly, Emrys' expression changed. A creeping unease crawled down his spine—that annoying certainty that he had forgotten something important.
"That's why the Second Hilmir..." Iseult went on.
Emrys exclaimed, stopping abruptly. Iseult and Gawain turned toward him, alarmed and confused.
"Shit," Emrys muttered under his breath.
He'd been so shaken by everything unfolding around him that a critical detail had slipped his mind. His wide brown eyes locked onto Gawain's. He raised his eyebrows and shot him a meaningful look, trying to spark something in his memory... but his cousin just blinked, looking as lost as ever.
'Sometimes I envy that empty skull of yours', Emrys thought, covering his face with one hand in frustration.
As expected, Iseult picked up on his odd behavior right away and approached him with a sharp gaze.
"Spit it out. Now," she ordered, punching him lightly on the shoulder.
Emrys didn't have much of a choice. Telling her meant the information would get to the twins—and likely to their superiors—but staying silent might make things worse. So, he gave in.
"A few weeks ago," he began, "during our night shift, I noticed something odd with my ability. A group tried to cross without authorization, but we stopped them just in time. The moment I saw their cloaks, I knew it was bad."
"Jarlar?" Iseult asked, reading between the lines.
"Yeah." Emrys nodded.
Even though they wore wide cloaks and hoods that concealed their faces, there was something in the way they moved—the precision of every gesture, the confidence they exuded—that was impossible to ignore.
They were jarlar.
In Hathor, those who stood out through their power, talent, intellect, or accomplishments were granted a title that transcended bloodline. It wasn't exclusive to ancient families, though some had carried theirs for generations. You could be born into a jarl House, but if you didn't meet expectations, your surname would be stripped away. Simple as that.
Likewise, anyone—regardless of background—could earn a place among the jarlar by consistently excelling in a field that benefited the kingdom. A major discovery, an invention, a deep mastery of any discipline—whether science, art, agriculture, architecture, or beyond. Then, the Grand Rhig or Grand Erna would bestow them with a surname and, with it, the right to found a new jarl House.
And that group, even in the dead of night, carried the unmistakable presence of those who didn't need to ask for permission.
"So what does that have to do with any of this?" Iseult snapped, feeling her patience wearing thin. She knew her brother wasn't dumb; he had a reason, but he was stalling.
"It was the Second Hilmir." Emrys dropped the bomb without blinking.
Iseult reeled, stunned. Her shock quickly turned into disbelief... and then into rage. Blood rushed to her face, highlighting the freckles that dusted her cheeks.
"We couldn't stop them, but I took note of everything," Emrys added quickly, waving his hands nervously. "How many there were, their mounts, what little I saw under the cloaks. The report's in the office... somewhere... under the rubble."
"Was there a woman with them?" Iseult asked through clenched teeth.
Emrys lowered his head, unable to meet her eyes, and nodded.
"Emrys!" she yelled, outraged.
"Oh, come on! It was the damn Grand Hilmir!" he defended himself, throwing up his arms. "What was I supposed to do? Hand him a permission slip? Put him in the queue? That man sighs and I'm unemployed."
He wasn't exaggerating. If they had tried to force their way in, neither he nor Gawain could've done anything. At best, maybe delay them just enough to alert the wall sentries
But the Second Hilmir wasn't just the chosen heir—he was also a formidable elementalist. They wouldn't have gotten a word out before he wiped them out with a flick of his fingers.
In short: stopping them would've been suicide.
"You should've told Ris or Vin!"
"Wow, brilliant idea," Emrys snapped sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "And then what?" He made a throat-slashing gesture.
"Tali wouldn't have stood by and done nothing," Iseult shot back, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance.
"And that's exactly what I wanted to avoid!!"
Seeing the argument going nowhere, Gawain finally stepped in, placing himself between them.
"Alright, enough, both of you. This isn't the time to be barking at each other." He placed a hand on each of them and pushed them apart. Then he gave Iseult a look only the two of them understood—a clear 'focus and assess'.
She understood immediately and took a step back, letting out a sharp huff. Then, she unzipped her jacket with a sharp motion and pulled out her nexa from the inner pocket. The slim, square device was milky white, with a bluish glow that seemed to ripple like liquid trapped beneath its glassy surface.
She placed her thumb on it, and a soft blue interface lit up, projecting floating symbols into the air. After a quick sequence of taps, an olive-crown logo appeared, each leaf lighting up one by one with a soft chime. A brief beep confirmed the call had connected, and the logo faded away.
A second later, a small hologram of a woman materialized above the device. It was around twenty centimeters tall, but it was so clear it looked as if she were truly there—just in miniature.