That afternoon, Blū walked the streets. The spirit of the festival still lingered, even after the residents had seen the damage. Of course, they didn’t truly know what had happened—only that their homes and streets had been torn through. The people of this world were mostly unaware of mana manipulation and arts like Exure. To those who hadn’t witnessed the kingdom’s strongest defenders—who were found mostly near the capital—such abilities were considered little more than myth.

  Some people continued to dance and play music, keeping spirits high. But most were hard at work rebuilding—raising homes and repairing roofs to sleep under. Blū was usually the first to call kindness a fa?ade. He had come to define himself by that cynicism. So, as he passed through this community, neighbors helping neighbors in a time of need, he was glad he still believed it.

  “How do you do, sir?” Bobar boomed, carrying a wooden pillar over his shoulder as he and his fellow bandits helped restore the framework of a collapsing building.

  Blū gave him a curt nod.

  “I must say,” Bobar continued, a slight tremor in his voice, “this has been a far more fulfilling use of my axes, that’s for sure.”

  Blū noticed the sweat beginning to trickle down his brow. Good. They still knew their place.

  “Oops. Let me help you with that,” came a familiar voice.

  Blū peeked around the broad frame of the bandit and spotted Sil, also working on the same structure. Using her mana, she conjured her bandages as rope substitutes—tying them around planks and bricks, then securing the makeshift rig to a wheel above her. An impromptu pulley system.

  “Afternoon,” Blū said, walking over.

  “Oh, look who it is.” She passed the bandage to someone else, then brushed dust and sawdust from her clothes. “How can I help?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to be useful, if I could. No harm in that.”

  “Heh,” Blū chuckled. “A Hero through and through.”

  “I suppose,” she replied, considering it. “If I am, I’m glad to be Yig’s kind of Hero.”

  “Oh yeah? And what kind is that?”

  “Not really a Hero for the status… more of—”

  “A Hero in the heart…?”

  Sil snorted. “Didn’t expect something that sappy coming from you.”

  Blū blushed. “And how would you say it?” he snapped.

  She shrugged and returned to hauling bricks.

  “Do you know where Master is?” Blū asked.

  “Silver? I think he’s at the station.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s he in for?” Blū joked.

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  “Hey!” Bobar shouted as a small child ran past, snatching bread from his hand. Ironic.

  Farther down the road, Blū passed an elderly man—not young enough to help with construction, but with enough fire in him to cook for those who were. The man chatted with a group of young men and women, animatedly recounting his magical encounter with the mythical being Pinx on the night of the festival.

  Ripped from his bed by a demon, he said—only to be saved by a glowing man with a blade and a reassuring smile.

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  The station was far cleaner than the last time Blū had visited. It felt kinder too, which was to be expected, considering everything that had happened. He was greeted by Joe, who, despite missing an arm, was upright and scribbling away at paperwork. He’d probably be doing hard labor with the rest of the team if he had his way. Good to see his fellow guards were looking out for him.

  “Welcome,” Joe said.

  “Hey, little guard. How’s the arm doing?”

  “Aching… strangely enough. You’d think it would stop bothering me now that it’s gone.” The guard gave a chuckle, which Blū hesitantly mirrored. “How can I help?”

  “I’m looking for Master Silver.”

  “Oh, he’s in the back with the Captain. Let me take you.”

  Blū raised a hand, motioning for Joe to sit back down. “No need. I’ll manage.”

  “Alright,” Joe replied, chipper, and returned to his paperwork.

  The moss was gone—as if lifted from every surface. Oy had thought the giant man had wielded a similar substance. It was certainly a powerful Levula, and they were lucky its effects had faded once the man was knocked unconscious. Now the guards seemed back to their senses. Furgen had been returned to his family, as had many others—who, it turned out, had been the owl-creatures they’d fought. That had been the Levula of the cruel Surath Preacher, whose effect had also vanished with his death.

  In the back cells of the station were the remains of the Dark Gang they had faced, locked securely to the walls. The one with patchy hair looked agitated. The one with the round chin winced at his injuries. The giant one was asleep... and the man with silver hair stared him down. Yig’s opponent.

  “Are you sure they’ll hold?” Liria asked.

  Silver nodded. “They’re made from Testrric, also known as ‘The Binding Metal.’ If they try to use their aura, the cuffs will shrink.”

  Around the hands and feet of each gang member were dark, metallic cuffs—solid and sturdy. Chains tethered them to the walls.

  “Let’s assume I didn’t understand a word of that,” Liria replied.

  “They can’t do any of their supernatural things,” Silver simplified.

  Liria seemed to grasp that.

  “Afternoon, Master,” Blū said as he walked further in. “Afternoon, Captain.”

  “Hold on,” Liria interrupted. “Was Pinx a real person?”

  “Possibly,” Silver replied. “Hello, Blū. What can we do for you?”

  “I apologize,” Liria added, realizing his interruption.

  “I was hoping to speak with you, Master,” Blū replied. But just then, a high-pitched whistling rang from another room.

  Joe burst in with a potted plant under his arm—the source of the sound. “They’re replying!” he said, then quickly looked worried. “Sorry, Captain. Should I not have shown them?”

  “Don’t worry, boy,” Liria said. “Let’s just set that down in the other room. I don’t want you holding that with only one arm.”

  The four of them moved to the front room, where the plant was placed on the desk Joe had been working at. It was just a bulb, but vibrant yellow—enough to fill Blū’s palm. Beside it, Liria produced a smaller bulb. The two quickly bloomed: the smaller into a teacup-shaped flower in Liria’s hand, the larger into a wide, spongy bloom with unfolding petals.

  “Hello,” said the flower, ceasing its whistling.

  Blū was taken aback but said nothing.

  “The palace would like to speak with you now,” it continued.

  “The Capital responded?” Joe asked, surprised.

  “Connect me,” Liria said.

  The flower nodded, and the expression of its petals seemed to shift.

  “Moonset, is that you?” a female voice asked.

  “Yes. This is Captain Liria,” he replied, speaking into the smaller flower.

  “Afternoon, Captain. What do you want to report?”

  “We were infiltrated. Moonset came under attack.”

  “That’s very unfortunate. How can we assist?”

  “We have the culprits restrained. But they’re… not normal.”

  The lady on the other end paused, then asked, “In what way, Captain?”

  Silver gestured for the small flower, and Liria handed it over.

  “This is Master Silver. I’d like to request an audience with Darleth.”

  The voice fell silent, save for a few muffled conversations in the background. Then she returned.

  “One moment, sir…”