Alexa slumped on a bench, distant from the raucous cheer of the town square. Her gaze was fixed on Daniel, who was laughing without a care in the world. She tried to mirror his ease, but a cold unease coiled in her stomach. This celebration felt wrong—the laughter too sharp, the smiles too fixed.
Her thoughts drifted back to Ghyl, to her Aunt Milawan's stern warnings. "The world outside is nothing like Ghyl, Alexa. People are thieves, two-faced. They use sweet smiles to hide their true intentions. Never trust them."
She let out a frustrated huff. Why had Rhya chosen her? What was so special about her that she had to be thrust into this?
The bench shifted as a familiar figure sat beside her—the short, ginger-haired girl she'd noticed earlier. Her expression was grim.
"You feel it, don't you?" the girl said, her voice low.
Alexa turned. "Feel what?"
"This town… it's not what it seems." The girl pursed her lips, choosing her words carefully. "Everything here is an illusion. A smokescreen to hide the fire raging beneath."
Alexa's confusion must have shown on her face.
"Sorry," the girl said with an embarrassed laugh. "I'm Fiori. I forget not everyone speaks in riddles here."
"It's alright," Alexa assured her. "Just… Please, tell me what's wrong with this place. How did it become like this?"
Fiori leaned her head back against the bench and closed her eyes. "Thermyra wasn't always like this. This was before Cantar came."
"And before she arrived?"
"Thermyra was known for its beauty and its alcohol. The joy you see in the square? That was real, once. Now it's a command." Fiori's voice hardened. "The people aren't happy. They can't let their smiles falter. No one is allowed to be unhappy under Cantar's rule. Her followers—the ones in hoods and armour—they regulate everything. We work until our bodies ache, but our efforts don't feed us; they feed Cantar and her soldiers. This festival is the only freedom we're permitted, a single day to pretend we're still free."
A chill ran down Alexa's spine. "What happens if you go against the Goddess?"
Fiori met her gaze, her eyes shadowed. "You're beaten. Imprisoned in a chamber of eternal flame. Or worse… given to the Soldier of Fire for torture. They return you broken and traumatised, forcing you back to work 'to learn your lesson.' Death would be a mercy compared to her 'justice'."
"But… How come no one has any burn marks? Any bruises?"
"The smoke," Fiori whispered. "Cantar's smoke blurs everything. It hides the bruises, the burns, the despair. It disguises this prison as a utopia."
A terrible idea, half-formed from suspicion, took root in Alexa's mind. "So…" she murmured, pulling a sharp hairpin from her hair. Before Fiori could react, she drove the point into her own palm. A sharp sting, and a bead of blood welled up.
"Stop! Don't!" Fiori cried, grabbing her wrist.
In an instant, the blood vanished. The cut sealed over as if it had never been, leaving only a phantom throb of pain behind. The illusion was perfect.
Fiori sighed, a sound heavy with exhaustion and resolve. "I'm going to make Cantar pay. I'm going to make her leave my brother alone. Even if it means I won't come back from it."
Alexa nodded quietly, the girl's distress a palpable weight between them.
As Fiori stood, she looked down at Alexa with a new intensity. "I know who you are. You're one of Rhya's chosen, aren't you?"
Alexa's breath hitched. "How did you know?"
"I've been researching how to get rid of Cantar since the day she arrived." From behind her back, Fiori produced a worn leather-bound book. "Rhya's Remnants, by Pope Sines Hawks."
Alexa's eyes widened. "I've seen that book." It had sat on her Aunt Maliwan's shelf, its spine cracked with age.
Fiori opened it to a marked passage. "Article 16, Section 2," she said, her voice trembling with fervor. "I had a vision. Two heroes will appear in the town of smoke and fire, to rekindle what was once lost. Their brave efforts will see them through their first great trial. A hero of grace and sound judgement, and a hero of ingenuity and courage, shall unite to extinguish the fire that consumes this town."
"I'm going to go shoot a rabbit. I'll be back, Fiero." Daniel rose from his chair, offering the red-haired man a casual wave.
The moment he was out of sight, Daniel's relaxed posture dissolved. With a practiced motion, he slipped a pill into his mouth. A cold, lucid clarity washed over his mind, sharpening his senses and silencing the background noise of the festival.
'I have to get ready.'
He tapped once on his palm. A series of soft, metallic creaks answered as segments of articulated steel unfolded from a hidden compartment, sheathing his forearm in a formidable gauntlet.
With a surge of enhanced strength, Daniel launched himself into a powerful leap, covering the distance to the bench in moments. He landed before Alexa and Fiori, his presence suddenly immense and intimidating.
"It's time." His voice was flat, devoid of its usual warmth. The ever-present grin was gone, erased from his face as if it had never been there. This was a side of him Alexa had never seen—a cold, focused intensity that made her breath catch. She wondered, with a shudder, if this was the same expression he wore eight years ago, when he ended the smithworker's life.
On the bench, both girls were frozen, too stunned to utter a word. They were… genuinely scared.
Then, Alexa snapped back to herself, a surge of defiant energy pushing through her fear. "Let's go! The first act of our story." She took a determined step forward, attempting to lead the way. Daniel fell in behind her, but after only a few steps, he halted.
"Little girl," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You'll die."
Alexa whirled around, stunned and ready to retort, but he cut her off.
"If the smoke is everywhere," he continued, his sharp eyes scanning the hazy air, "then Cantar has her eyes on all of us. We don't have the luxury of a grand march. We need to be swift, precise, and unseen."
Fiori let out a shaky breath, her fear mingling with awe. "I see… You're really as sharp as the prediction said."
She quickly found the passage in Rhya's Remnants and read aloud, her voice barely a whisper: "Article 16, Section 3: One of the heroes in Theymyra possesses one of the greatest intellects in the Middle Realm, arguably the best. His path is paved with cruel—"
Daniel moved with startling speed, his gauntleted hand covering her mouth and cutting the words off before they could fully form. The metal was cool against her skin. His eyes held a silent, fierce warning.
"You will not continue," he stated, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Fiori's eyes widened above his hand, and she shook her head in frantic agreement. "Yes, mister," she mumbled against his palm, the sound meek and terrified.
As Daniel lowered his hand, the intense focus returned to his eyes. "Alright, we're going to take down Cantar," he declared, his tone leaving no room for doubt.
Alexa, who had been staring at the exchange in stunned silence, found her voice. It was mixed with light fear and disbelief. "With no plan whatsoever?" Alexa asked.
A faint "hmph" was his only reply. "Come closer." In one fluid motion, he drew her closer into the shadow of a nearby overhang. His grip was firm, but not harsh, pulling her out of the open and into the darker gloom where the festival's lights could not reach.
Unnoticed by either of them, Fiori looked dejectedly at the floor. Seeing their intense, private conference, she slipped away silently, her hope and her fears left behind with the two chosen heroes.
"I have something planned out," Daniel murmured, his voice a low whisper close to Alexa's ear. "But I am certain that I cannot speak of it in this place." His eyes gleamed with a sharp, reflected light in the shadows. "But we do know about a certain Soldier of Fire."
"You're not planning to fight him are you?" Alexa whispered back, aghast. "That's a death wish."
"Trust me, Alexa." He stared straight into her eyes, his gaze unwavering holding hers with an intensity that was both a promise and a command.
Suddenly, a group of figures in dark robes emerged from the haze, their movements synchronized and silent, cutting off the secluded space Daniel and Alexa had found.
"Looking for the Soldier of Fire?" a voice asked from the head of the group.
A figure stepped forward, his features lost beneath a heavy black cloak. The hood shadowed his face, and when he spoke again, the words rasped as though scraped across stone. He was not alone—half a dozen others loomed at his back, cloaked and silent, their rigid stances radiating discipline.
Alexa exchanged a wary glance with Daniel before answering. "Yes…" she said, her voice hesitant.
Daniel's hand, still gauntleted, tightened almost imperceptibly. "Bring us to him."
The hooded man tilted his head, and though his expression remained hidden, something in the pause suggested amusement. "Very well then," he murmured. "You don't hear a request like that every day."
Without another word, the cloaked figures guided them through a labyrinth of back alleys. The festive noise of the square ebbed into a suffocating hush. Eventually, they stopped before a building set apart in the town's farthest corner. Its beauty was unnerving—every stone intricate, every line flawless, as though crafted by hands not meant for mortal work.