The air smelled different.
Not ash.
Not blood.
Cold morning air. Clean. Sharp.
Xander was twelve again.
The training yard behind the Greydon estate stretched wide and empty, frost still clinging to the edges of the stone tiles. The mountains in the distance were pale under early light.
His father stood across from him.
Arms folded behind his back. Posture straight. Expression unreadable.
“Again,” His father said.
Xander inhaled.
He stepped forward and called for it, that familiar darkness, that quiet hum beneath his skin.
Shadow crawled weakly along his forearms.
It flickered.
His father moved before it could stabilize.
A sharp strike to Xander’s wrist disrupted the forming energy. A controlled sweep of purple flame brushed past Xander’s shoulder, not enough to burn, just enough to show the gap in his defense.
Xander stumbled.
“Focus,” His father said evenly.
“I am focused.”
“You’re frustrated.”
Xander rushed him.
Shadow flared outward, messy, uneven. It lashed toward his father’s chest.
His father didn’t retreat.
He stepped inside the attack.
One palm met Xander’s sternum.
Not hard.
But precise.
The darkness around Xander shattered like mist in wind.
He hit the stone floor on his back.
The impact knocked the air from his lungs.
“Get up,” His father said.
Xander’s teeth clenched.
He rolled onto his side, pushed himself upright.
Anger burned hotter than effort.
Fine.
If discipline didn’t work...
“Espud,” He muttered under his breath.
The power answered faster this time.
Shadow didn’t flicker.
It surged.
Darkness thickened around his arms, coiling violently, spilling past control. It cracked the stone beneath his feet as it flared outward.
His father’s eyes sharpened.
Xander lunged, swinging hard, black energy exploding off his fist in a jagged arc.
It was strong.
Fast.
Unrefined.
His father pivoted calmly.
He raised his own hand, and darkness formed there too. But his was different.
Compact.
Dense.
Obedient.
Their powers collided.
Xander’s erupted wildly.
His father’s absorbed and redirected.
In one fluid motion, his father stepped through the chaos, seized Xander’s arm, and twisted, guiding the force past himself rather than fighting it.
Then he struck.
A controlled burst of purple flame hit Xander square in the chest.
Not devastating.
But final.
Xander hit the ground again, sliding across cold stone.
The shadows around him dissipated instantly.
He lay there, breathing hard, chest aching, more from humiliation than impact.
His father approached slowly.
“You’re reaching for him too quickly,” He said.
Xander pushed himself up to one elbow. “He makes it stronger.”
“Yes.”
“Then why not use him?”
His father stood over him, the early light casting long shadows behind him.
“Because strength is not the same as control.”
Xander frowned.
His father continued.
“We are Greydon. Devil-touched.”
He lifted his hand slightly. A small, contained flame of purple shadow formed above his palm, steady, calm.
“Espud is reliable.”
The flame flickered once.
“He answers.”
The shadow extinguished.
“But he is a tool.”
Xander sat up fully now, listening.
“A blade,” His father said. “Useful. Sharp. Effective.”
He looked down at his son.
“But you do not build your entire fighting style around the blade alone.”
Xander’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
His father’s gaze hardened slightly.
“Because he is a devil.”
The words were simple. Heavy.
“No matter how friendly he may seem. No matter how helpful. No matter how quickly he answers your call.”
A faint wind moved across the yard.
“It is in his nature to be what he is.”
Xander swallowed quietly.
His father crouched down so they were eye level.
“You control him,” He said firmly. “He does not control you.”
A pause.
“Only in dire circumstances do you give him more.”
Xander glanced at his own hands.
The skin felt normal now.
Empty.
“Always remember,” His father said quietly, “A devil does not stop being a devil simply because he stands beside you.”
The morning light brightened.
The yard blurred.
The cold air thinned into smoke.
And the memory faded.
The first thing Xander felt was cold.
Not the sharp mountain cold from memory.
This was damp. Heavy. Seeping into bone.
His head throbbed as consciousness crawled back into place. He tried to move, but rope bit into his wrists. Bound. Hands tied tight behind his back.
Stone pressed against his shoulder blades. The air smelled of wet earth and moss.
He forced his eyes open.
Blurry shapes. Flickering light.
A small fire crackled a few feet away, its glow bouncing weakly off the cave walls.
Two figures sat across from him.
They weren’t speaking.
They were watching.
His vision slowly sharpened.
Silver hair first, long, pale strands cascading over dark fabric. Green eyes that almost seemed luminous in the low light. Sharp brows. Controlled posture. A thin black choker against pale skin.
The Valemire girl.
The same one who had stared at him in the arena waiting room before the Death Wish began.
Up close, she was… striking. Not soft. Not delicate. There was a steadiness in her gaze, something assessing. Measuring.
She hadn’t looked away once.
Beside her sat another Valemire, a boy. Younger. Green eyes like hers, though his held less restraint and more open curiosity. His silver hair was shorter, slightly messier, but the resemblance was obvious.
Siblings. Or close kin.
Xander said nothing.
He straightened as much as the ropes allowed, ignoring the pulse in his skull. He met their stares head-on.
Silence stretched.
Drip.
Drip.
Water echoed deeper in the cave.
The younger one shifted first. His gaze moved over Xander’s face, then down to the rope, then back up again.
The girl didn’t move at all.
“You’re awake,” She said finally.
Her voice was calm. Cool. Not surprised.
Xander’s jaw tightened slightly. “Seems like it.”
His voice came out rough.
The boy’s eyes narrowed faintly. “You hit the ground hard.”
Xander didn’t respond to that. Instead, he tilted his head just enough to look at them both evenly.
He rolled his shoulders against the stone, testing the rope. “Someone also hit my head hard.”
A brief pause.
The boy lifted a hand, almost sheepish. “Yeah. That was my bad.”
Silence fell again.
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The fire crackled softly. Water dripped somewhere deeper in the cave. Two sets of green eyes studied him.
Then the girl spoke.
“Would you like something to eat?” She asked calmly. “Perhaps a drink.”
Xander’s jaw tightened. “I’d like to know what the hell is going on.”
The boy glanced at her.
She gave a small nod.
“My name is Crystal,” She said evenly. She gestured to the boy beside her. “This is Marvel. My younger brother.”
Marvel gave a short nod, posture stiff now.
“We’re here for an important task,” Crystal continued. “And you will be helping us.”
Xander blinked once.
“Oh?” His voice turned dry. “Didn’t know I was signing up for a bodyguard job. What’s the pay?”
“No,” Crystal replied smoothly. “Not as a bodyguard. You’re needed in order to complete our task.”
Xander leaned his head back against the damp stone and glanced around the cave.
Small fire. Narrow exit. No visible traps.
“Where are my partners?”
Marvel answered first. “Oh, you mean the trigger-happy one and the homeless-looking dude?” He shrugged. “They’re probably ash from the dragon's flames by now.”
The words hit.
Xander’s expression didn’t change, but something behind his eyes sharpened.
“Why didn’t you take them too?” He asked evenly.
Crystal held his gaze. “Isn’t it obvious? We only need you.”
The fire popped.
Xander exhaled slowly through his nose, thinking of the crate. Of Erron diving through smoke. Of Woods holding back flame with flame.
Then he looked back at her.
“Why me?”
Crystal didn’t hesitate.
“Because of my visions.”
A beat.
“I’m Valemire,” She added quietly. “Remember?”
Xander said nothing at first.
“And if I say no?”
“You’re not at liberty to say no.”
He chuckled under his breath at that.
“So what?” He said, voice sharpening. “I’m just supposed to forget I’m in a battle royale where only one walks out? Just go along with your Valemire pseudo-mystical bullcrap?”
Marvel shot forward slightly. “Hey. Don’t talk to my sister like that.”
Xander’s temper flared instantly. “I’ll talk however I please.”
The cave felt tighter.
Marvel looked ready to stand, but Crystal calmly placed a hand on his arm. He froze under the gesture.
She kept her eyes on Xander.
“I understand,” She said. “We made… abrupt decisions. But it was the only way to get you out of the flames efficiently.”
“By knocking me out?” Xander shot back.
Crystal arched a brow slightly. “How else would we have done it? Suddenly appear and say, ‘Hello stranger, we’ll save you. Bring your friends and follow us into our dark, damp cave’?”
Xander opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Exhaled.
He tilted his head back against the stone again.
“They probably think I ran off with the crate and ditched them.”
“Not likely,” Crystal replied.
His gaze snapped back to her.
“We left the crate,” She added.
He stared at her.
“Why would you not take it?”
Crystal gave a small, almost indifferent shrug.
“We can manage without it.”
The firelight flickered across her green eyes.
Xander studied her for another long moment.
“So this grand, important task,” He said slowly, “That’s why you were staring at me in the start?”
Crystal nodded once.
“Yes.”
He tilted his head slightly. “And what the hell is this task?”
Neither of them answered.
They just looked at him.
Then at each other.
Then back at him again.
The silence felt different this time, heavier. Not strategic.
Personal.
Crystal’s posture shifted almost imperceptibly. When she spoke, her voice was softer.
“We’re… looking for our dad.”
Xander blinked.
“…What?”
Crystal kept her eyes on the fire for a second before continuing.
“He was there in the early years of our lives. Present. Involved.” Her fingers curled slightly against her sleeve. “But as we got closer to our teenage years, he just… disappeared.”
Marvel’s jaw tightened.
“Vanished,” Crystal said. “No explanation. No trace.”
“At first we thought something happened to him,” Marvel added quietly. “Kidnapped. Killed.”
Crystal shook her head faintly. “Then my visions started.”
Xander’s expression sharpened.
“My brother has them too,” She continued, glancing at Marvel. “But his are weaker. Mine aren’t.”
Marvel didn’t argue.
“I started seeing him,” Crystal said. “Fragments. Places. Glimpses. Enough to know he was alive.”
She looked back at Xander now.
“We’ve been trying to find him for years.”
A beat.
“And now we finally have. At least… we think we have.”
Xander frowned slightly. “So your dad is… here?”
Marvel answered this time.
“Yes.”
“In the Death Wish?” Xander pressed.
Crystal nodded.
He let out a short breath. “Why? For a wish? What would he even wish for?”
Crystal’s gaze dimmed slightly.
“We’re as lost in the dark as you.”
That hung in the air.
Xander shifted against the rope, the fibers creaking faintly.
“And how exactly do I come into play?”
That question lingered longer than the others.
Crystal didn’t answer immediately.
She looked away, toward the cave wall, toward the fire, anywhere but him. A flicker of something uncertain crossed her face for the first time.
Then she forced herself to meet his eyes again.
“You…” She began, quieter now, “help us find him.”
She swallowed lightly.
“Or so that’s what my visions showed me.”
The words settled between them.
Not commanding.
Not certain.
Just… stated.
Xander watched her for a long moment, searching for cracks in the conviction.
Finding very few.
Finally, he gave a small, almost thoughtful nod.
“I see.”
And for the first time since waking up, his voice carried less sarcasm...
And more calculation.
Marvel broke the silence first.
“So,” He said, leaning forward slightly, “Are you in?”
Xander shifted his gaze to him.
“It doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice.”
His tone wasn’t defeated, just honest.
He lifted his bound hands slightly behind him. “And can we get this rope off?”
Marvel’s expression hardened a little. “If you say you’re in, I’ll cut it.”
Xander stared at him, irritation flickering across his face.
Before he could respond, Crystal spoke.
“It’s okay,” She said softly. “Cut him loose.”
Marvel hesitated for half a second, then stood.
He walked behind Xander, boots scraping lightly against stone. The sound of a blade sliding free echoed faintly in the cave.
Xander felt the cold edge press against the rope.
A quick slice.
The tension around his wrists vanished instantly.
The rope fell away.
Xander brought his arms forward slowly, wincing as blood rushed back into his hands. He rubbed his wrists, rolling them once, testing the freedom. The ache dulled to something manageable.
Marvel stepped back, still watchful.
Crystal remained seated, her green eyes steady on him, not fearful, not tense.
Just observing.
Xander flexed his fingers once more, then looked up at them both.
“Well,” He said evenly, “I guess I'm in.”
There was no smile.
But he didn’t run for the cave exit either.
Marvel gave a short nod. Crystal followed with a quiet, sincere, “Thank you.”
Xander lifted a hand slightly.
“But before I help you,” He said, “I need to see if my partners are still alive.”
Marvel frowned faintly. “Why?”
Xander met his eyes evenly. “They’ve been helpful. It’s the least I can do.”
Marvel held his gaze for a moment, then slowly nodded.
“…I mean, I can’t argue with that. You’re helping us too. So it’s only fair.”
Crystal gave a small nod of agreement.
She rose without another word and crossed to a worn leather bag resting near the cave wall. Kneeling, she rummaged briefly before pulling out a wrapped pastry.
She walked back toward Xander and held it out to him.
For a second, he just looked at it.
Then at her.
The offer felt strangely normal compared to everything else.
“…Thanks,” He said, a little awkwardly, taking it from her hand.
Their fingers didn’t quite touch.
Crystal returned to her spot near the fire and sat down again, posture composed.
Xander unwrapped the pastry and took a cautious bite.
It was slightly sweet. Still fresh.
He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until that first mouthful.
The cave grew quiet again, but the tension had shifted.
Not gone.
Just… recalibrated.
Marvel watched him chew, arms loosely crossed. Crystal’s eyes flicked briefly to Xander’s wrists, then his face, then back to gazing at the campfire.
Outside, wind moved faintly past the cave mouth.
As Xander continued eating, Marvel let out a quiet chuckle.
“Someone was hungry.”
Xander didn’t look up from the pastry. “You have no idea.”
Marvel pushed himself to his feet and walked toward a small pack near the cave wall. He pulled out a metal flask, unscrewed the cap, and grabbed a dented tin cup resting nearby.
The faint sound of water pouring echoed softly in the cave.
He stepped back over and held the cup out.
Xander glanced at it, then up at Marvel.
“Thanks.”
He took it and drank slowly this time, controlled, steady. The water was cool, metallic from the cup, but it grounded him. He hadn’t realized how dry his throat felt until now.
Marvel lifted the flask to his own lips and took a short drink before sealing it again.
Crystal watched the exchange quietly, her posture relaxed but attentive, like she was measuring something she couldn’t quite name.
The fire crackled low between them.
For a strange moment, it didn’t feel like three competitors in a deadly arena.
It felt almost… normal.
Xander lowered the cup, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“So,” He said after a second, glancing between them, “How far are we from where you grabbed me?”
Marvel leaned back against the cave wall again.
“Far enough,” He said.
Crystal’s eyes flicked to Xander.
"We've been moving all day, we're still within the forest, but far enough that I doubt the dragon has tracked us."
A sharp crack of a branch outside the cave.
All three heads turned at once.
Silence.
Then a shadow shifted across the cave mouth.
Erron stepped into view from one side of the entrance, revolvers already drawn, arms extended with theatrical precision. From the opposite side, Woods appeared, calm and solid as ever, stepping into the opening with his arms crossed, heat faintly shimmering around him.
Erron tilted his head slightly, flashing a grin.
“Don’t worry, Xander,” He announced dramatically. “Rescue team’s here!”
Xander blinked once.
“Oh. Hey, guys.”
He lifted a hand and gave a small wave.
Erron lowered one revolver just enough to wave back with the other hand. “Hey, man! Glad you’re okay! I thought they were torturing you by now!”
Xander glanced briefly at Crystal and Marvel, then back at Erron.
“No, they’re, uh… they’re alright.”
Woods didn’t say anything. He just watched. His eyes moved from Xander’s untied wrists… to the pastry in his hand… to the siblings seated by the fire.
Marvel’s jaw tightened slightly.
Crystal and Marvel exchanged a quick look, silent, loaded. Not fear exactly. But calculation.
“We’re good here,” Xander said evenly. “Lower the guns, Erron.”
There was a half-second pause, then Erron gave a small shrug and spun both revolvers before sliding them back into their holsters.
Woods stayed silent.
Erron stepped fully into the cave, boots scraping lightly against stone as he approached. “So,” He said, dropping into a crouch beside Xander, “I got bad news and good news.”
Xander sighed. “Go on.”
“Bad news?” Erron spread his hands slightly. “We lost the crate.”
Marvel and Crystal both looked at the scene.
“And the good news?” Xander asked.
Erron reached over without hesitation, took the last piece of pastry from Xander’s hand, and popped it into his mouth.
“Good news is,” He said while chewing, “We found you.” He swallowed. “And this delicious pastry.”
Woods stepped inside now, leaning back against the cave wall near the entrance, arms folding again. Watching. Measuring.
Xander nodded slowly. “That is… indeed good news.”
He looked at Erron. “You guys followed me?”
“Obviously,” Erron said immediately. “We saw you getting taken by that kid.” He jerked a thumb toward Marvel.
Marvel’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Erron’s gaze then drifted, and landed on Crystal.
His expression changed.
Recognition. Interest.
“Hey, wait. Aren’t you that girl that was ogling Xander?”
“Ogling?” Crystal repeated, louder than she meant to.
Xander rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I wouldn’t say ogling.”
“Yeah, you,” Erron continued, pointing lightly. “You’re the Valemire girl. What a coincidence. Small world, huh?”
Crystal straightened a little. “I wasn’t ogling him,” She said, a faint stumble in her voice. “I just… saw him in my visions.”
Erron’s grin widened. “Oh yeah? What’d you see? Spill the tea.”
Before he could say more, Woods stepped forward and smacked the back of Erron’s head.
“Ow!” Erron whipped around. “What the hell was that for?!”
“Stop making it awkward,” Woods said flatly.
Erron rubbed the back of his head, muttering under his breath, then looked back at Xander.
“Sooo,” He said, stretching the word, “You wanna chime me and Woods in on what’s going on?”
Four sets of eyes shifted to Xander again.
The cave had gone quiet, not hostile.
Just expectant.
Xander exhaled once before speaking.
“This is Marvel and Crystal. Marvel’s her younger brother.”
The siblings gave small, restrained nods.
“They joined this whole thing to find their dad. Crystal’s been having visions of him,” Xander continued. “She tracked him here. To the Death Wish. And in those visions… I help her.”
Erron’s grin returned immediately.
“Oh yeah?” He said, nodding slowly. “I’m sure you definitely do.”
Woods smacked the back of his head again.
“OW!” Erron snapped, whipping around. “Stop that, you blazing cunt!”
He caught Woods’ stare mid-sentence. Woods didn’t blink. Didn’t react. Just looked at him.
Crystal’s eyes widened slightly at the language. She instinctively reached over and tried to cover Marvel’s ears.
Marvel leaned away gently. “Relax, sis. I’m not nine.”
Crystal withdrew her hands, flustered. “…Still.”
Erron rubbed the back of his head again, muttering something under his breath before glancing between the siblings and Xander.
“So,” He said, a little more composed now, “Dad’s missing. Visions say Xander’s involved. And now we’re all sitting in a damp cave together.”
Woods shifted his weight against the wall. And kept staring in silence.
Erron tilted his head. “Alright then,” He said. “Guess we’re playing detective now.”
Woods straightened up, and let out a low, humorless chuckle.
“Well,” He said, his voice cutting through the cave air, “Have fun with all of that.”
He started moving toward the exit.
Xander called out, “Where are you going?”
Woods didn’t slow. “We teamed up for the crate,” He said over his shoulder. “No point now, Redborne probably took it all by now. So… we go our separate ways.”
Erron threw his arms up, hands pressed together in mock prayer. “Thank you, God!” He shouted, grinning from ear to ear.
Xander frowned. “You sure? We could use you, Woods.”
Crystal chimed in softly, “If it’s supplies you need, my brother and I have food and water.”
Erron’s head whipped toward her instantly. “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!”
Crystal sighed, but unwrapped a neatly wrapped ham sandwich and handed it over. Erron tore into it like a starving man, crumbs flying, while Marvel watched with a face that clearly said gross.
Woods paused a few feet behind them, arms crossed now, watching Xander and Crystal. His expression was unreadable, but his sharp eyes flicked to the food, then to the two of them, considering.
Xander raised an eyebrow. “Thinking it over?”
Woods didn’t answer immediately. He simply looked at the cave ceiling, then back at the group, as if weighing whether to stay or walk away for good. The tension hung thick for a few seconds, broken only by the sound of Erron smacking his lips.
Woods let out a long breath through his nose.
“…Fine,” He muttered. “I’ll join. For now.”
He walked back in fully and leaned against the cave wall again like he’d never moved.
Marvel hesitated, then offered him the metal bottle. Woods took it without a word and drank. A small gesture but enough.
Xander gave a single nod. “Alright. That makes a decent-sized team.”
Erron, still chewing, pointed dramatically at him. “And you were saying two is stable this morning. Knew you’d warm up to more buddies.” He swallowed. “Maybe we should go back and ask Lavender to join too.”
Xander made a vague sound. “Eh. We’ll see.”
Crystal tilted her head. “Who’s Lavender?”
Erron’s grin returned instantly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Xander cut in smoothly. “She’s just another participant. Seemed strong.”
Crystal nodded slowly. “I see.”
“Yep,” Erron continued, wiggling his brows, “but don’t worry though, Xander’s all y—”
Smack.
Woods’ palm met the back of his head again.
Erron froze.
Then...
“THAT’S IT. I’VE HAD ENOUGH.”
He lunged.
Woods moved at the same time, and suddenly they were locked palm-to-palm, arms straining as they shoved against each other in a rough, stubborn standoff, boots scraping against stone.
“Stop hitting me!”
“Stop talking.”
Marvel jumped up immediately. “Woah, hey! Guys! Relax! Don’t make too much noise!”
They grunted and pushed, neither backing down.
Xander just stared at the chaos unfolding in front of him.
Crystal stared too.
Then, slowly, their eyes drifted toward each other.
Two seconds.
Just long enough to silently acknowledge how ridiculous this was.
Both of them looked away almost at the same time.
“…Sorry,” Xander said quietly.
Crystal blinked. “Why?”
He tilted his head slightly toward the wrestling pair. “You know. Them.”
Crystal glanced back at the two idiots trying to overpower each other and shook her head lightly.
“It’s okay,” She said. “I don’t mind.”
There was a small, genuine warmth in her voice.
“Makes it feel more lively.”
Xander considered that.
The noise. The arguing. The cramped cave. The tension that somehow didn’t feel entirely hostile.
He gave a slow nod.
“…Yeah,” He said. “I suppose so.”
Crystal’s voice softened.
“…I’m sorry, too.”
Xander glanced at her. “For what?”
“For dragging you into our situation,” She said. “Forcing it on you.”
He didn’t hesitate. “It’s okay.”
She studied him, brow slightly furrowed. “Is it?”
There was no accusation in her tone, just genuine confusion.
Xander leaned back against the cave wall. “I’m used to things being forced on me.”
Crystal’s expression shifted in understanding. “Oh. Yes… right. Your house’s curse.”
He gave a small nod.
A brief silence settled between them.
“…Sorry,” She added quickly. “That was insensitive of me.”
He shrugged lightly. “You meant no harm.”
Crystal nodded, though her gaze lingered on him a moment longer than necessary. It looked like she was about to ask something, her lips parted slightly, but she stopped herself. Whatever question was forming stayed unspoken.
Xander noticed.
He chose not to comment.
Across the cave, Marvel finally wedged himself between Woods and Erron, hands raised like a referee calling a timeout. After a few muttered threats and one last glare, the two separated and sat down on opposite sides.
Now the cave was quieter.
Erron and Woods ate in tense silence, occasionally shooting each other looks but not speaking. Marvel stayed alert between them, clearly prepared to intervene again if needed.
The air felt different now
More… grounded.
A strange little group, gathered in a cave in the middle of a forest, sharing food with one another.
For a moment, no one spoke.
And somehow, that silence felt steadier than before.
CHAPTER 3 END
