Voralis moved toward the door, his hand reaching for the handle. A sick sense of wrongness curled in Viktor’s gut.

  “Don’t open it!” he yelled, his voice raw with panic.

  Voralis only turned and smiled before pressing down the handle.

  Viktor lunged to stop him, but before he could reach, a hand clamped down on his shoulder from behind—

  He startled awake.

  Arelos knelt beside him, hand still on his shoulder.

  “It’s time to move, Viktor.”

  Viktor blinked groggily, his pulse hammering in his ears. The world still felt slightly unreal, caught between memory and waking.

  He sat up, rubbing a hand down his face. "I don't remember falling asleep."

  Arelos smirked. “Sleep tends to work that way.”

  Rubbing his eyes, Viktor glanced around. The sun was high, its light filtering through the trees. The others were already awake, shouldering packs and stamping out the remnants of their fire.

  “I thought we were leaving at first light,” he said. “It’s way past that.”

  Arelos gave him a pointed look. “You finally passed out. Figured an extra hour or two was worth the risk. Beats you dropping dead in the middle of the road—that’d slow us down even more.”

  Fenric noticed the exchange and grinned, a teasing lilt in his voice. "Yeah, Vik, stop lazying about."

  The jest, though a bit forced, brought a small smile to Viktor's lips. He nodded at Fenric, understanding the attempt to lighten the mood.

  Viktor ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Fine, fine. I'm up."

  Fenric clapped him on the back, satisfied, before turning to the others and stretching with an exaggerated groan. “Alright, someone tell me we’ve got food, because I swear, I’m about two minutes away from gnawing on my own arm.”

  Jax grunted as he pushed himself up. "You and me both. Anyone holding out on the rest of us?"

  They all exchanged glances. No one answered.

  A slow, creeping sensation of unease spread between them.

  Viktor patted absently at his belt, as if food would somehow appear. His fingers closed on nothing. A slight knot formed in his stomach. “Did we even bring anything?”

  Silence.

  Arelos sighed, rubbing at his temple. “Right. Well, best we take stock now.” His gaze swept over the group. “Bring your packs. Let’s see what we have.”

  They gathered their belongings, shaking out pouches and turning out pockets.

  The answer became clear fast—they had nothing.

  Jax let out a harsh laugh, bitter and humorless. “So let me get this straight. We're armed to the teeth, got enough weapons to start a war—but we're gonna starve to death before we even get to the capital?”

  Arelos exhaled sharply. “Wasn’t exactly part of the plan.”

  Soren scowled and tossed aside an empty pouch. “Hell, did anyone think ahead?”

  Mira rolled a half-full waterskin between her fingers. “We’ve got this, at least. Won’t last long, though.”

  Jax shot her a sharp look. “Wait, that’s it?” He ran a hand down his face, then groaned. “Oh, you have got to be joking.”

  Arelos powered through the grumbling. “Alright, food and water’s a disaster. Let’s talk coin. What have we got?”

  Jax sighed, digging into his pockets. “Not much.” He pulled out a few small coins, counting fast. “Four coppers.”

  Mira checked hers. “Two silvers.”

  Viktor rifled through his gear. “Six silvers, twelve coppers.”

  Arelos pulled out his own stash. “Eight silvers.”

  Soren shrugged. “One silver, two coppers.”

  "Three coppers."

  They all turned to Fenric, a far too innocent smile marking his face.

  Soren crossed his arms. “C’mon, Fen.”

  Fenric rolled his eyes. “What? You think I’m hoarding gold under my cloak? You want to pat me down?”

  Arelos tilted his head. “Should I?”

  Fenric groaned. “Fine. Nine coppers.”

  Silence. The group kept staring.

  Fenric shifted under the weight of their stares. “...And two silvers.”

  More silence. Arelos locked eyes with him.

  Fenric’s jaw tightened like he was weighing whether to stick to his story or fold.

  He sighed dramatically. “…And two gold.”

  A collective groan erupted from the group.

  “Seriously, Fen?” Soren muttered.

  “Where the hell did you get that kind of money?” Jax demanded.

  Fenric only grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Yeah, actually, I would,” Jax snapped. “How the hell does a 'recruit' have that much coin?”

  Fenric leaned back smugly. “Maybe I’m just naturally lucky.”

  Jax snorted. “Or naturally sticky-fingered.”

  Fenric clutched his chest in mock offense. "I am deeply wounded by your accusations."

  Mira sighed, shaking her head. “Jax, drop it. Who cares where it came from? He has it.”

  Fenric pointed at her, smug. “The key phrase being I have it—meaning, it’s mine.”

  Jax scowled. “Yeah, and unless you wanna eat your coin, you’ll be sharing.”

  Fenric crossed his arms. “Oh, is that so?”

  Jax mirrored the stance. “Yes. We need to help each other, which means pooling resources.”

  Fenric snorted. “That’s awfully convenient when you’re not the one actually pooling anything.”

  Jax sighed. “I’m putting in what I’ve got. Doesn’t change the fact that most of the coin is yours.”

  Fenric muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue further.

  Jax exhaled, rubbing his temple. “Not like it matters. There aren’t any stalls out here.”

  Arelos stood, dusting off his coat. “No, but there should be a village about half a day’s walk from here if we stick to the road. We need to buy supplies.”

  Viktor straightened slightly. “Half a day? Will we make it before sundown?”

  Arelos nodded. “If we keep a steady pace. No more dragging our feet.”

  Jax muttered, “Sounds like you’re talking to Viktor again.”

  Viktor exhaled. “I’m sorry, guys.”

  “Don’t sweat it,” Soren said.

  "Yeah, you've got nothing to apologize for," Fenric reassured.

  Mira offered Viktor a soft smile, squeezing his hand gently.

  Arelos cleared his throat. "Alright, gather your things. Let’s get moving."

  They gathered their packs. The weight of the morning settled over them—hunger gnawed, but for now, they had a destination. And that was enough.

  Jax slowed his steps, letting his eyes roam the path ahead. His brows pulled together. "The road’s awful quiet."

  No one answered immediately. The day had worn on in a strange hush, the kind that crept into the bones. They’d passed only one rider since morning—a wiry man on a dappled gray horse who hadn't slowed, hadn't spoken, just thrown a tense glance their way before urging his mount into a trot and disappearing behind a rise.

  That wasn’t normal.

  Jax looked over his shoulder, then again at the empty road ahead. "Seriously. Too quiet."

  "Yeah, it's not just you," Soren replied. His usual sharp tone was missing. He scanned the treeline as they walked. "It’s too quiet."

  "I’ve heard there’s been trouble in the area," Arelos said, his voice calm but clipped. "Brigands hitting small caravans. Travel’s slowed down significantly."

  "Slowed down?" Jax scoffed. "We haven’t seen so much as a wagon rut since dawn. There should be at least a trail of dung to follow."

  "Lovely image," Mira muttered.

  Jax grinned faintly. "Just painting the picture."

  Arelos hesitated ever so slightly before responding. "With the king’s death, people are wary. They don’t know what’s coming. This road isn’t the main trade route, and right now, merchants are sticking to the ones where guard patrols are more frequent."

  Mira’s voice was quiet. "Or maybe they know something we don’t."

  Jax turned to look at her with a raised brow. "Like what, exactly?"

  She hesitated, glancing toward the trees. "I don’t know," she admitted. "A danger we're not anticipating."

  "If there was something to worry about, we’d have seen some sign of it," Arelos assured them. "Tracks. Wreckage. There’s been nothing. Just people being cautious."

  Jax scoffed. "Or terrified."

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  No one had a better answer.

  When they finally stopped to take a break, it was more out of necessity than anything else. Their steps had grown sluggish, weariness sinking into their bones. Worse was the thirst—thick and dry in their throats, impossible to ignore. They had already finished what little remained of Mira's waterskin.

  Jax flopped onto a rock with a groan. "I’d kill for just a drop of water right now."

  "Mhm," Soren replied flatly, not even glancing in his direction.

  Jax turned to him. "Or a mug of mead. Frosted glass, golden foam on top…" He sighed dramatically. "Can you imagine?"

  "Mhm," Soren repeated, his tone exactly the same.

  Jax narrowed his eyes. "Wow. Amazing conversational skills. Truly."

  Soren didn’t react.

  Jax smirked. "Think about it, though. Cool drink, a warm tavern. Some off-key bard in the corner playing for free because no one else is drunk enough to care—"

  Soren shot him a glare. "Can you shut up about it?" His voice had an edge. "You going on about it doesn’t exactly make it better."

  Jax blinked. "Damn, who pissed in your rations?"

  Soren clenched his jaw. "I’m just sick of you running your mouth every five seconds."

  Jax raised his hands in mock surrender. "Gods forbid I try to lighten the mood."

  Soren laughed, but it was dry, humorless. "That’s what you call this? Lightening the mood? Sounds like you’re just bitching."

  "I’m not bitching. It just sounds that way because you miserable lot don’t know how to hold a conversation."

  Mira let out an exasperated sigh. "Both of you, shut up."

  Silence.

  Everyone shifted uncomfortably. The heat of the argument faded, replaced by exhaustion and gnawing thirst. Every spoken word seemed to scrape their already dry throats. Arguments wasted energy. So did Jax running his mouth. But despite everything, the frustration in the air lingered.

  After a long pause, Fenric finally broke it. "Hate to agree with Jax," he admitted, "but maybe we do need to do something."

  Jax immediately perked up. "Thank you. Someone with a goddamn brain—unexpectedly."

  Fenric rolled his eyes. "Just... don't."

  "What are you thinking, Fen?" Soren asked.

  Fenric shrugged, rubbing a hand over his face. "Might be worth veering off the road," he said. "See if we can find a stream or something."

  Jax pointed at him. "Exactly. Best idea I’ve heard all day."

  Mira tilted her head. "Wouldn’t take that long, right?"

  Fenric shook his head. "Depends, but I doubt it. A small detour, maybe what—twenty minutes, tops?"

  Arelos immediately shut it down. "No," he said firmly. "We stay the course. We're only a few hours from the village. We can manage."

  Jax groaned dramatically. "A few hours is a lot when your tongue feels like sandpaper."

  "You’ll survive," Arelos shot back.

  Fenric wasn’t ready to drop it. He gestured to the dense foliage beyond the road. "It wouldn’t take much," he pressed. "Just a little ways in, check for running water—"

  Arelos cut him off. "And risk getting turned around in the forest?" His voice was clipped. "Not worth it."

  Jax made a face. "Oh, come on, we’re not idiots—"

  Arelos turned to glare at him. Jax hesitated.

  "...Most of us," he amended.

  Mira bit her lip. "Do you really think we’d get lost that easily?"

  Arelos sighed sharply. "I don't want to find out," he said.

  His tone left no room for argument.

  They all exchanged tired looks but knew better than to push him further.

  Jax let out a heavy sigh, his voice quieter now. "Still would’ve liked that mead."

  "No one’s stopping you from dreaming," Mira murmured.

  He offered her a tired smile. "Guess I’ll have to keep talking, then."

  Soren shot him a look.

  Jax held up both hands. "Kidding. Ish."

  The group trudged in silence, a weariness settling over them as the hours passed. Occasionally, Jax grumbled about his thirst, breaking the quiet.

  Viktor, as they walked, kept sending out pulses of awareness. This constant vigilance came at a cost, as the familiar throb of a headache began to pulse at his temples, a grim reminder of his failure with Voralis. Nevertheless, he pressed on.

  Soon, Viktor’s pace slowed, lagging behind the group, his headache worsening from mild to a splitting pain. Arelos led them without pause, but Mira, noticing Viktor's struggle, dropped back to walk beside him.

  She cast a sideways glance at him. "So…" she began, light but probing, "you're a mage, huh?"

  Viktor gave a small nod, not looking at her. His jaw tightened.

  Mira raised a brow. "And you were just gonna… not mention that?"

  "I wasn't supposed to," he muttered.

  "Supposed to?" she echoed. "Says who?"

  "Faros. Thought it was too risky," Viktor said, his voice low. "He told me not to tell anyone."

  Mira frowned. "But Arelos, Fenric, and Soren knew."

  He didn't answer at first. Another pulse went out—too strong this time. His vision blurred for a second, and he stumbled. Mira instinctively reached out, steadying him with a hand on his arm.

  "Vik," she said softly. "You okay? You don't look great."

  "I'm fine," he said quickly, too quickly.

  She didn't buy it. "You sure? ‘Cause that little stumble kinda said otherwise."

  "I said I'm fine, Mira. Drop it."

  Mira waited, hoping he might offer more, but when he didn't, she exhaled in frustration. "So, did Arelos, Fenric, and Soren know?"

  A pause. Then, "Yeah. Since the start, pretty much."

  Mira's lips pressed into a line. "Would've been nice if you told me."

  "I wanted to," Viktor said, the words coming out like a sigh. "I really did."

  But you didn't," she replied, not unkindly—just matter-of-fact.

  "I was going to," Viktor insisted, then winced at how empty it sounded. "Eventually."

  Mira let out a dry laugh. "Eventually," she echoed, unimpressed. "When, exactly? After we'd already gotten ourselves killed in another fight? When you just happened to snap someone's spine in midair again?"

  Viktor flinched. Mira regretted the words immediately.

  "That's not what I meant," she said, softer this time.

  Viktor exhaled, guilt pressing down. "I don't know, Mira. I didn't… I didn't want things to change."

  "Well, they changed anyway," Mira said, a touch of bitterness in her voice.

  Jax, who had overheard, couldn't resist jumping in. "I still can't wrap my head around how a mage ends up in the Black Cipher. Aren't mages all nobles who trained at the academy?"

  Hearing Jax, Arelos slowed his pace slightly. "That's not strictly true," he said calmly. "Outside the fractured empire, mages come from a wider range of social classes. Different regions have different traditions for bringing up mages."

  Jax gave a skeptical laugh. "You saying Viktor's not from Phyros? ‘Cause I'd bet my last copper he is."

  Fenric, barely audible, mumbled, "Pretty sure you already did…"

  Arelos ignored the comment. "I'm not saying that. I'm just saying the path to magic isn't the same everywhere."

  Mira turned to Viktor, her curiosity still burning. "So, is that where you learned magic? The academy?"

  Viktor shook his head. "Never even been to the capital."

  Jax grinned, amused now. "Then where exactly did you train? Don't tell me the Black Cipher has a secret mage division no one knows about."

  Viktor let out a small laugh. "They wish. Or at least, I think Faros would've liked that. But no. As far as I know, I'm the only mage in the Cipher."

  "So what, you just woke up one day and boom—fireballs and floating objects?"

  Viktor chuckled despite himself. "Not exactly. I… taught myself."

  Jax stopped walking altogether. "Okay, now that's ridiculous."

  "It's the truth," Viktor said simply.

  Jax barked a laugh. "C'mon, man. If people could just teach themselves magic, the world would be crawling with mages. They're rare for a reason."

  Mira side-eyed Viktor. "did you actually? Teach yourself?"

  Viktor nodded towards Arelos. "Just ask him, he's been there since the beginning pretty much."

  Mira and Jax glanced at Arelos for confirmation.

  "He's not lying," Arelos sighed.

  Jax wasn't convinced. "Even nobles with tutors and piles of gold barely scrape together enough talent to make sparks. So unless Viktor here was studying arcane theory in some mythical gold-plated library with ancient tomes—how?"

  Viktor rubbed his temples, the pain behind his eyes intensifying. "The serum," he muttered. "I think that's what did it. It didn't work at first, at least not like it's supposed to. But something… unlocked."

  Jax's head snapped up, surprised. "How the hell did you get access to an arcane serum?"

  Mira guessed, "The Cipher deals in serums. Maybe they gave it to him?"

  Jax dismissed it, pointing at Viktor. "That doesn't make sense, Mira. First, he said this was before he joined the Cipher. Second, yes, we deal in serums—but not arcane ones. Third... do you have any idea how expensive those are? Why would the cipher just waste one on some random kid? They're priceless. Reserved. Controlled. You don't just find one lying around."

  "My family arranged for me to be tested," Viktor said quietly. "I was just one of many."

  There was a beat of silence.

  Mira's eyes sharpened. "The family you never talk about?"

  Jax narrowed his eyes. "Only nobility are able to have their children tested. How did your family manage it?"

  Then, a realization hit Jax, his disbelief clear, almost laughing. "Wait… you're not saying you're nobility, are you?"

  He laughed, dismissing the idea. "No way. That'd be absurd. A mage in the Cipher is already insane. A noble mage? That's just—" he laughed again.

  Viktor stayed silent, his jaw tight, eyes fixed on the path.

  Mira studied his face, putting the pieces together. "Viktor… are you a noble?"

  Up ahead, Arelos stiffened. His pace faltered, and when he turned, his expression was dark.

  "That's enough," he said, voice tight. "Leave it."

  Mira ignored him. "Is that why you won't talk about your family?"

  Viktor looked toward Arelos, silently asking for direction.

  Arelos met his gaze and shook his head. "You've said too much already."

  "No," Mira snapped, stepping forward. "You don't get to decide that."

  "And you do?" Arelos retorted. "You think you know what this means? What you're prying into?"

  "We have a right to know. We're in this together," Mira insisted firmly.

  "Yes, we are. But that doesn't mean you're entitled to all his secrets," Arelos countered.

  "That's his decision, not yours," Mira fumed.

  Arelos scoffed. "You're right, it's not my decision. Viktor is smart enough not to let himself be manipulated into revealing something he shouldn't just because of your lame little attempt at guilt-tripping him".

  "I'm not trying to guilt him. I'm trying to understand him!" she snapped. "Why is that so damn hard for you?"

  And then—cutting through it all like a blade—Viktor's voice came, calm and steady.

  "Avrolios."

  Arelos groaned loudly, dragging a hand down his face. "Gods help us…"

  Soren shot Arelos a knowing look, his voice laced with amusement. "You gave it a good effort, Arelos, but it looks like you lost this one."

  Arelos exhaled sharply through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, thanks for that insight, Soren. Very helpful.”

  But Jax barely heard them. His brow furrowed as he turned the name over in his mind, a flicker of familiarity sparking in his expression. “Avrolios… huh. That sounds weirdly familiar.”

  Mira tilted her head, contemplating. “Wait—yeah. I’ve definitely heard that before.”

  Jax snapped his fingers, his eyes widening. “I’ve got it! That’s the noble house that burned down in that freak accident years ago. Gods, what a mess that was.”

  Mira inhaled sharply. “A fire?”

  Jax nodded. “Yeah. Big deal at the time. Everyone in Lycona was talking about it. The whole manor went up in flames, with the family and their servants still inside.” He gave a low whistle. “Hell of a way to go.”

  Mira’s expression darkened with recognition. “I remember now. People called it a tragedy—bad luck, misfortune, all that.”

  Viktor let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “They said a lot more than that.”

  Mira gave him a sideways glance, her curiosity flaring. Something about his tone set her on edge. “You’re saying something else happened?”

  Jax, still lost in thought, mused, “Dying in a fire’s gotta be one of the worst ways to go. Trapped, smoke everywhere, the heat—”

  “It wasn’t the fire that killed them," Viktor said quietly.

  Mira turned fully to face him now. “What do you mean?”

  He held her gaze for a long moment. Then he spoke, deliberate and measured. “By the time the fire started, they were already dead.”

  A heavy silence followed.

  Jax frowned, his skepticism surfacing. “So how did they die?”

  Viktor met his eyes, his voice steady in a way that made Jax’s skin prickle. “Murdered.”

  Jax let out a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Murdered? That’s a bold claim. What makes you so sure?”

  Viktor hesitated, then exhaled, as if releasing something held tight in his chest. “Because I was there.”

  Mira’s breath caught. “You *what*?”

  The group fell into stunned quiet. Even Arelos, who knew the story, stood rigid beside them, watching how the others reacted.

  Jax recovered first. “Hold on, hold on—” He ran a hand through his hair, still trying to make sense of it. “So you're not just saying you *know* what happened. You're saying you *witnessed* it?”

  Viktor gave a small nod. “Yes.”

  The weight of that word settled over them like a burial shroud. A realization dawned on Mira, her features tightening. “Then… those people. The ones in the house. They were—”

  “They were my family.”

  Mira’s throat tightened. “Oh, gods…”

  Jax shifted his stance, suddenly uncomfortable. “Shit, man. I—” He faltered, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize.”

  Soren clenched his jaw, glancing over at Arelos, who refused to meet his eyes.

  Mira, voice quieter now, asked the question none of them could ignore. “Who did it?”

  Viktor shook his head. “I don’t know.” His voice was flat, controlled, but beneath it, there was an unmistakable undercurrent of rage. "But I intend to find out."

  Mira’s brows knit together. “How? It’s been *years*, Viktor."

  “I’ve had help.” He glanced at the ground, then at the empty space where Voralis should have been walking. “Faros and Voralis were helping me put together the pieces.”

  They continued walking, the mood subdued, Viktor’s past lingering in the air.

  Suddenly, Mira paused, turned to Viktor, and without warning, wrapped him in a tight, desperate embrace.

  Viktor stiffened in surprise. “Mira—?”

  "I’m sorry, Viktor," Mira’s voice cracked with emotion.

  Viktor hesitated before returning the embrace. "Don’t be. It’s been years. The ache has long since dulled."

  Mira shook her head, her voice firm yet tearful. "I don’t mean just your family. I also mean Voralis. Even though I don’t know exactly what he meant to you, I know you two were close. I’m so sorry he’s gone."

  Viktor didn’t speak immediately, but tears welled in his eyes as well, falling silently.

  The rest of the group noticed the pause, exchanging glances but giving them space.

  After a while, Mira released Viktor and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

  Viktor did the same, softly expressing his gratitude. "Thank you, Mira."

  "So that’s what you meant about having unfinished business? Regarding your family?" Mira asked, serious.

  "Yes," Viktor answered with a nod.

  Mira shook her head, exasperated but affectionate. "You know you could’ve told me ages ago, right? I want to help."

  Viktor paused, then nodded again. "I know."

  Fenric decided to speak up at that. "Yeah, Vik. I think it goes without saying—we’re definitely hunting down the bastards that did this."

  Another silence stretched before Viktor spoke again, looking at each friend with gratitude. "Thank you, Mira. And thank you, all of you."

  Arelos crossed his arms. "Alright, now that Viktor has spilled every major secret, can we pick up the pace?"

  No one argued as they resumed walking, the atmosphere heavier with newfound understanding.

  After a few minutes of silence, Jax spoke again, a lingering thought he couldn’t ignore. "You said you were there. Did you see them get killed?"

  Viktor hesitated. “No.” He hesitated again, then amended, “Not exactly.”

  Jax frowned. “The hell does that mean?”

  But before Viktor could answer, a sudden wave of nausea crashed over him. His vision blurred. The world tilted sharply beneath his feet.

  He staggered.

  Mira grabbed his arm. “Vik?! What’s wrong?”

  Soren stopped in his tracks, concern flickering across his face. “Damn, Vik. You don’t look good.”

  Viktor tried to blink the dizziness away. “I— I just need a minute—”

  The creeping edges of darkness swallowed his vision. His knees buckled.

  Mira tightened her hold. “Viktor—!”

  Then the world went black.