The only thing that remained was silence. No one spoke to one another. Hours had passed since they left the island behind, and the now-dry tears were still marked on their faces, taut, as if the skin still remembered the weeping. The creaking of the boat and the soft lapping of the water were the only things filling the void.
Lyra, uncomfortable with that heavy atmosphere, looked up at the sky and took a deep breath before speaking.
—The full moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it? —she said with a small, nervous smile, watching the silver reflection upon the sea.
No one responded. No one even looked at her.
—Do you know what else was beautiful? —Kiomi asked suddenly.
Lyra blinked, hesitating.
—No…
—My mother's smile —Kiomi continued, without raising her voice—. Before her life was snatched away.
In a sudden movement, Kiomi approached Zein and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him up enough to force him to look at her.
—Because of you.
Rage was etched into every muscle, in her clenched jaw, in the trembling hands that clung to the fabric as if letting go were impossible.
—Me? What do I have to do with any of this? —Zein responded, hurt, his voice tense.
—It is all your damn fault! —Kiomi spat—. You and your damn white hair!
She pulled him even closer, the space between them reduced to nothing.
—I wasn't to blame for being born this way! —Zein grit his teeth—. I didn't choose it! But here I am! Carrying it all!
—And the demon inside you?! —Kiomi countered—. Does that not count either?! You caused it all, Zein!
She let go of him abruptly and took a step back, looking down, her fists clenched.
—I don't understand why… —she murmured—. Why my mom, despite knowing about your hair… why Lucian, even knowing about the demon… why they decided to protect you.
—I didn't want the demon either! —Zein responded, his voice breaking—. I didn't create it! I didn't summon it!
—Hey, calm down a bit… —Kio intervened, taking a step forward.
—Shut up! —both shouted at the same time.
Kio stopped in her tracks and took a step back, surprised.
—If it hadn't been for you, we would have been able to help Meliora! —Kiomi shouted at her, locking eyes with her.
—Not only do you do whatever your "god" asks like a lapdog —Zein spat, looking at her with open contempt—, but you also deceive and abandon your "friends." Do we even truly know you?
Kiomi pressed her lips together, her eyes burning.
—Don't you come at me with that saintly face, Zein —she said before grabbing his shirt roughly again—. I will never forget everything you've done since you arrived. And I swear that one day you will pay for it.
Before the tension could explode, Lyra stepped between them and pushed them toward opposite ends of the boat with more strength than she seemed to have.
—Enough! —she shouted—. This is not the time for this…
Her voice broke at the end and was followed by a harsh cough that shook her chest.
—Lyra! —Zein turned immediately and approached her—. The mark…
His eyes lowered to the girl's neck. There, beneath the skin, the mark from that day remained.
—I hadn't been healed in several days because of the war… —Lyra said as she touched her throat, flashing a clumsy smile—. I thought nothing would happen if I held on a little longer.
Zein wrapped his arms around her without a second thought.
—You should have told me sooner… —he murmured—. We will find a way to remove that mark, I promise you.
Kiomi watched the scene for only a second. Then she turned her back on them and went to sit at the rear of the small boat, hugging her legs, staring at the sea as if nothing else existed.
The day passed quietly without change. Kio guided the boat using water magic, pushing the currents around the hull to gain speed toward the colossus Mirathun, their next destination.
When night fell, everyone eventually fell asleep, except for her.
The dawn began to slowly fade as a thick fog enveloped them. Kio gave it mind; she had heard that, at certain times of the year, the coasts of Mirathun dawned covered in mist.
The silence was broken.
A metallic heartbeat made the wood of the boat vibrate. Just one. Then another.
The fog in front of them tore like a veil ripped away by force. From within it, an immense ship emerged.
First the bow appeared: a wall of gray steel, as tall as a building, slicing the water with a violent hiss. The air filled with the smell of burnt oil and hot steam.
—What is that…? —Zein murmured, his voice tense, as he watched the colossus approach.
—It's like a stone island moving on its own… —Kiomi said, shrinking back—. It has no sails… there is nothing pushing it…
—Stay calm —Kio intervened without looking away—. It's a steel ship. I haven't seen one in a long time.
—But it's coming straight for us! —Zein and Kiomi said at the same time.
—If they wanted to kill us, they would have done it already —Kio responded, more serious.
The ship stopped several meters from them. Then, lights flickered on across its structure, aiming directly at them.
—Magic…? —Kiomi whispered, covering her face slightly.
—Don't move from there! —a voice shouted from the bow.
From the massive ironclad, a smaller vessel descended, similar to theirs, and moved quickly across the water.
In it traveled two people in black uniforms, adorned with red and white details. They wore no armor; they looked more like gala suits. The fitted jackets shone with silver buttons, and a white strap crossed the chest to a belt of the same color. White gloves, strange rifles more modern than any they had seen before.
Their boots, high and perfectly polished, reflected the light as the small boat slowly drew near.
It didn't take them long to recognize the uniform. It belonged to the Empire. Different from those they had seen before—neater, more modern—but the sun insignia on the chest left no room for doubt.
The two soldiers scanned the boat with their gaze and then looked at each other. One pulled a small notebook from his pocket.
—More refugees, eh? —the second commented without lowering his rifle.
—How many does that make now…? —the first murmured as he opened the notebook—. Two ships full on this side of the colossus. And they say more keep coming out of Sylvaris… even from Thargrund.
—The cleanup has already begun —the second said, lighting a cigarette—. It'll be a while before it's our turn.
He tilted the pack toward Zein, offering him one.
The first gave him a sharp blow to the head.
—Idiot. He's a kid.
The soldier sighed and pulled out a pen.
—Names and ages —he requested, resting the pen on the paper.
The silence stretched for a few seconds.
—For the record —he added—. You're refugees, right? You need identification to enter. This will allow you to pass… afterward, you'll have to register as citizens.
Lyra was the first to speak.
—My name is Lyra. I'm thirteen years old.
—Lyra what? —the soldier asked without looking up.
—Lyra Ravenscroft —she responded, more firmly.
—Zein Ravenscroft —Zein continued—. Eighteen.
—Siblings?
—Yes.
While the soldier wrote, the other took something out of his bag: a lollipop. He offered it to Lyra. She hesitated for an instant before accepting it and putting it away in silence.
—Kiomi Valandil —she said then—. Eighteen years old.
—I… my name is Alianore —Kio said after a brief pause—. Yes, Alianore. I'm… a hundred years old.
The soldier slowly raised his gaze.
—Alianore what?
—Just Alianore.
The man hesitated for a second, scratching his head with the pen.
—Well, you're a Felvar, right? —he murmured—. Then I'll put you down as Alianore Felvares.
Kio said nothing.
—I'll do a quick inspection —the second soldier announced while checking the nearly empty raft.
—Good —the first responded, tearing out a sheet with the data for each one.
—Clean —the second said—. Just an old flag and some food.
Zein watched in silence. No one seemed to notice the white hair. No one looked strangely at Kio because of her ears or her tail. No one gripped their rifle with distrust.
—Then, welcome to Mirathun —the soldier said, putting away the notebook—. Enjoy your stay and don't cause any trouble.
Both turned around to return to their boat.
—Hey! —Zein called out, taking a step forward.
—What is it, boy?
Zein hesitated for an instant, but he spoke.
—Why… why don't you treat us poorly? —he asked—. Because of the white hair… or because Alianore is a sub-race of monsters.
The soldiers looked at each other.
And then they laughed.
They laughed hard, without holding back. Zein, Lyra, and Kiomi stood motionless, bewildered.
—Wow —one said, wiping away a tear—. You come from Ilmenor, right?
—They sure are racist over there —the other exclaimed.
—What…? —Zein murmured.
—Look, kid —the second soldier said, still wiping away tears—, here in Mirathun we don't care about any of that. We know the stories of the blessed children, yes, but most believe they are nothing more than stupid assumptions invented by the elves.
—And about the monster race thing… —the first added as he pushed his boat away from theirs—, you'll see that for yourself when you get to the city.
—Enjoy your stay in Mirathun —they shouted from the distance, as they disappeared into the fog.
Zein looked down and noticed something among the papers they had handed him. It wasn't an identification. It was another piece of paper, carelessly folded. Upon opening it, he read:
"Tired of the oppression? Come to this place. Here we will understand you… and we will do something."
There was an address written below.
Kio sat back down in the boat.
—Let's keep going —she said calmly, moving the water around her with magic—. We are closer to the coast now.
The others did the same, watching as the enormous steel ship disappeared completely into the fog, as if it had never been there.
—Why did you lie about your name and your age? —Zein asked after a moment.
—My name is quite well known —Kio responded without looking away from the sea—. If it came to light that a Felvar named Kio, over a thousand years old, was wandering around here… it would cause too much of an uproar.
—Sure… wait —Zein sat up abruptly—. Over a thousand years?
Lyra and Kiomi also looked at her, surprised.
—It's normal to live a long time —Kio said matter-of-factly—. Especially when demons are involved.
Zein opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say.
After a while longer of sailing, the fog began to dissipate. Dry land appeared before them. They got off the boat and left it abandoned on the shore.
On the beach, the air was clearer. The daylight felt different, less heavy than it had at sea.
—And what will you do now, Kiomi? —Kio asked as she brushed off her clothes.
Kiomi remained silent for a moment.
—Well… —she murmured.
—We're going to the city to stay with a friend —Kio said, approaching Zein and Lyra.
—I… I want to avenge my mother —Kiomi added, clenching her fist against her chest—. And for that, I need to be with you.
—Fine —Kio responded with a broad smile—. I wasn't going to let you go anyway, regardless of what you said. I made a promise to your mother.
Then she turned around, looking toward the city.
—Let's go.
They advanced toward what appeared to be the entrance. There were no walls, no gates, no guards. Nothing marked a real boundary. The city was simply there, open, as if anyone could walk in… or get lost.
With everything that had happened over the last few days, none of them had truly felt the cold. Not until now. When things calmed down, the cold hit all at once, creeping under their clothes, biting at their skin.
Mirathun received them with a frozen air and a disorder that shattered any idea of harmony. From a distance, the gray brick looked elegant; up close, it was stained with soot and wear. Above their heads, dark tiles slept under a layer of dirty snow, hanging from the eaves as if they might fall on them at any moment.
It was a labyrinth. On each side of the path, commerce gave no respite. Merchants wrapped in frayed furs shouted from improvised stalls, offering dried meat of doubtful origin, rusted trinkets, or brass amulets tarnished by frost. The steam from boiling pots mingled with the breath of the crowd, forming a thick mist that blurred faces just a few steps away.
And yet, the smell did not lie. Beneath the spices and the burnt charcoal, rot crawled. In the corners, where snow mixed with sludge, bodies were piled under stone overhangs, trembling, motionless. Some moaned. Others did not move at all. It wasn't unusual to dodge someone doubled over on the cobblestones, expelling a dark bile that froze almost as soon as it touched the ground.
Zein noticed it then.
Many people were not… well.
Reddish spots, old burns, and oozing blisters marked the sunken faces of those on the ground, their limbs unnaturally swollen by a silent plague.
The group watched in stunned silence —all except Kio— as monstrous beings moved naturally through the crowd. Massive, multi-armed giants with the heads of horses or the coarse features of orcs pushed past, their scales shimmering beneath the dirty snow. Below them, reptilian tails dragged across the cobblestones while swarms of dwarves scurried between their legs, indifferent to the misery around them.
And yet, it wasn't them who made the biggest impact.
It was the demons.
There were several in plain sight—walking, trading, even laughing—integrated into the daily life of the city. Their robust bodies and scorched skin made them stand out from the rest; their horns varied in shape and size, and their wings, folded against their backs, seemed too large for the narrow streets they traveled.
Humans were also there, but they no longer seemed to be the majority.
For Zein, Lyra, and Kiomi, all of it bordered on the unreal.
—Hey, Kio… are you going to tell us who we're staying with for a while? —Lyra asked, lowering her voice a bit, uneasy at being surrounded by so many beings she had never even imagined.
Kio made a barely perceptible grimace. She quickened her pace without responding.
The others had to hurry to keep up with her.
—Kio?
—Well… —she murmured, bringing a hand to her face and scratching her cheek—. The truth is, I don't want to talk about it.
—Why not? What's wrong with it? —Kiomi asked, looking around with attentive eyes, not stopping her observation of the creatures passing by them.
—You'll see when we get there —was all she said.
It didn't take long to leave behind that crowded and noisy area. The bustle faded little by little, until it was reduced to a distant murmur.
Halfway there, some soldiers in the same uniforms as those from the ship blocked their path. Not recognizing them, they asked for their documents. Zein took out the papers they had been given upon arrival and showed them. The soldiers checked them quickly and, without further trouble, pointed them toward a building where they were supposed to register officially.
Then they let them continue.
After a long time walking, they finally arrived at the place.
From the outside, the building didn't stand out at all. A common and ordinary antique shop, with a dusty storefront and old objects arranged without much order. There were no customers, nor signs of recent activity; the interior looked dark, silent, almost abandoned.
Without saying a single word, Kio pushed the door and entered.
—Alex! —she shouted with a firm voice from inside—. Are you here?!
—Hey, Kio… I don't think you should… —Kiomi murmured, uneasy, barely peeking through the entrance.
The response came immediately.
From a side door leading to the back, a man emerged wielding a stick, taking a defensive stance.
—Who goes there?! —
Although his body still retained the firmness of youth, time had left its mark on his silver temples and in the wrinkles surrounding his eyes. He was around fifty-five years old, and he proudly wore a mane of grayish dreadlocks that fell like ashen ropes over an impeccable black silk haori. Beneath it, a moss-colored tunic and a gray hakama with sharp pleats reinforced a severe, almost intimidating figure.
But one look was enough.
Upon recognizing Kio, he dropped the stick without a thought and lunged toward her, wrapping her in an excessively close hug.
—Aw… so you came back for me, eh? —he said with a brazen smile—. Did being away from me for so long affect you?
—Of course not —Kio growled, struggling to push him away with all her strength.
The man then noticed the gazes fixed upon him. Three pairs of eyes watched him with a mixture of confusion and alarm. His expression changed instantly; he pulled away from Kio clumsily, bringing a hand to the back of his neck as he began to sweat.
—Don't tell me… —he murmured—. Are these… mine…?
—Of course not, idiot —Kio snapped, pushing him away once and for all.
Zein, Kiomi, and Lyra still didn't understand anything.
—Kio…? —Zein finally asked, breaking the silence—. Who is he?
Kio cleared her throat, visibly uncomfortable. She pointed at the man with a sharp gesture.
—He is Alexander… —she said, avoiding their eyes—. My ex-boyfriend.
—Pleasure, kids —Alexander added, smiling at them as if it were nothing.
The world seemed to stop.
Zein, Kiomi, and Lyra were completely paralyzed. None of them managed to utter a word; their mouths remained open, their minds unable to process what they had just heard.
That someone had dated Kio was already inconceivable.