Orin Alpheratz (15 years old) Location: Solaris Date: Year 873 / Crow Cycle (3) / Blacksmith's Day (8)

  “We’d better pick up the pace,” Hadar said from atop his horse, eyes scanning the horizon. “Looks like a storm’s coming. Though… a little rain might not be so bad. It could help put out the fires.”

  Orin followed his gaze upward. The sky above Solaris was choked with heavy, black clouds that rolled like smoke. The air itself felt tense, thick with ash and the smell of burnt stone. The streets they passed through were littered with the aftermath of chaos: collapsed buildings, lifeless bodies covered in soot, and patches of glowing embers that refused to die out. The rebellion of the Church of Luminia had left scars everywhere.

  “I never thought I’d see Solaris like this,” Sirius murmured, walking beside Orin. His eyes lingered on a heap of rubble that had once been a tall brick workshop. “I wonder if this is what war feels like.”

  “This is probably as close as it gets,” Cor replied quietly, leaning on Gina for support as they trudged forward.

  Orin stayed silent, taking it all in, the silence of streets that had once been alive with chatter and hammering metal. They were crossing into the artisans’ district now. What had once been the beating heart of the city’s craft and trade now felt hollow, the air heavy with the ghosts of its former life.

  “To think my first sword came from a shop around here,” Sirius muttered with a sad half-smile.

  “I remember this place,” Jin said, walking a few steps ahead of Orin, hands tucked behind his head as if the devastation barely fazed him. “There should be a tavern nearby. Served amazing stew and better ale. When this is all over, we should go there. My treat. What do you say, Aran?”

  Aran, walking just ahead, didn’t even glance at him.

  “Hey, don’t you think it’s time you gave the girl some space?” Dan said with a dry tone. “You’re not exactly reading the room.”

  “Come on, that’s not true!” Jin protested, quickly turning to Aran. “Right, Aran? You don’t mind, do you?”

  Still no response.

  “See?” Dan said, smirking. “She’s clearly not interested. Besides, I think she’s already got her eyes on Orin.”

  “What?” Aran snapped, finally reacting—her face suddenly flushed crimson.

  Jin froze. “Wait—are you serious? With him?” He pointed dramatically at Orin.

  “I thought they were on a date when I found them,” Sirius added with a grin.

  “What?!” Gina blurted, spinning toward Orin. “Is that true?!”

  Orin exhaled, pressing his fingers against his temple as he muttered under his breath, “Unbelievable… we’re in the middle of a battlefield and this is what you’re all talking about…”

  That earned a small laugh from Cor despite her pain, and even Hadar, riding ahead, cracked a faint smile without turning around.

  But the atmosphere shifted once again when a cold, hoarse voice cut through the sound of marching boots from the rear of the column.

  “Aspiring knights and warriors of Solaris… laughing side by side with sorcerers.”

  It was Kane. Still bound in chains, flanked by two guards, he glared at the group with venomous eyes. Every word dripped with hatred.

  Without his helmet he looked like a normal young man in his early twenties, with long black hair.

  “When the Oracle’s vision becomes reality—when the war begins and you stand against one another—you’ll regret not cutting those magi’s throats while you had the chance.”

  “Silence, prisoner!” one of the guards barked, raising the hilt of his sword as if to strike.

  But there was no need. The effort of speaking had drained what little strength Kane had left; his head fell forward, and his body slumped against the guards’ grip.

  Hadar, watching from horseback, exhaled slowly and shook his head.

  “What a pity,” he muttered, half to himself. “Soldiers sworn to protect the Empire, yet so easily poisoned by the Oracle’s delusions… the same man who was declared mentally unstable by His Majesty five years ago.” He sighed again, glancing back at Orin and the others. “I’m sorry you have to hear such nonsense, boys.”

  The group exchanged uneasy looks but said nothing. Most dismissed Kane’s words as the ravings of a fanatic. But Orin… Orin was thinking about a different thing.

  Something about what Hadar had said clung to him.

  The Oracle was declared unstable?

  He remembered Professor Aldulfin’s vague explanation: that the Oracle had mysteriously withdrawn from public life five years ago. But now, for the first time, he had a reason why.

  “What do you mean, the Oracle was declared mentally unstable?” Orin asked quickly, his curiosity breaking through his restraint.

  Hadar looked over his shoulder at him, thoughtful. “Just what I said. Though I don’t know all the details. Back then I was still a first-year student at Solaris Academy. But my father told me the Emperor and the Oracle had a heated dispute… one that ended with the Emperor stripping him of his title, declaring him unfit to serve.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Cor muttered. “Fanatics like that always end up losing their minds sooner or later.”

  Orin stayed silent. His thoughts, however, were anything but calm.

  If the Oracle’s fall from grace truly happened five years ago… that was the same year the Princess disappeared.

  Coincidence, or connection?

  He didn’t know. But the unease settling in his chest told him this was no accident.

  “By the way,” Hadar began, glancing sideways at Jin from atop his horse, “I think this is the first time I’ve seen someone with red eyes besides Orin. Funny… I don’t know if you’ve heard, but some folks in Solaris consider that eye color a sign of misfortune.”

  “Now that you mention it, that’s true,” Sirius said, walking beside him. “I’ve never seen anyone else with eyes like that either... besides Orin, of course”

  Behind them, Cor and Gina exchanged quiet nods.

  “Is it really that rare?” Jin asked, scratching his head, clearly puzzled by everyone’s reaction. “A few days ago, I met another boy with the same eye color. When I saw Orin today, I figured maybe it wasn’t so uncommon around here.”

  Orin’s gaze snapped toward him. “Another boy with red eyes? In Solaris?”

  “Yeah,” Dan answered before Jin could continue. “Just a kid, maybe ten or eleven. He seemed really curious about my magic, though… unfortunately for him, I wasn’t allowed to use any spells inside the city.”

  Hadar’s tone sharpened slightly. “You’re from Minoris, then?”

  Dan hesitated. “…Yes. I came here on personal business,” he said at last, lowering his voice. “But it seems I chose the worst possible time.”

  “Minoris sorcerers are forbidden from using magic in the Alliance kingdoms without proper authorization,” Hadar said firmly, though without hostility. “You did well not to cast anything, or I’d have been obligated to arrest you myself.”

  He paused, his tone softening. “Given the state of things, it’s best you leave Solaris as soon as possible.”

  Dan nodded silently.

  A cold drizzle began to fall as they pressed on. The once-bright city was now nothing but a blur of shadows under the dimming twilight. They had already left the artisans’ district behind, the fires dying into black smoke. The North Gate was not far.

  But then—

  “What the…?” Jin’s voice broke the silence. He pointed down a narrow street to their right. “What is that?”

  The group stopped. Something massive blocked the path between two charred buildings—a formless, towering heap that was difficult to discern through the fog and rain.

  “Do you think it’s the soldiers’ doing?” Jin asked, his usual levity gone.

  “Most likely,” Orin muttered, narrowing his eyes. “Should we take a closer look?”

  “I think it’s best we keep moving,” Aran interjected quickly, her tone unusually tense. “Whatever it is, it’s not worth the risk.”

  “I agree,” Gina said, gripping Cor’s arm. “I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.”

  Cor squinted through the haze. Her eyes, sharper than anyone’s, caught details the others couldn’t. Her voice trembled as she finally spoke.

  “They look like… bodies. Piled-up corpses.”

  A chill ran through the group. No one moved. Even the rain seemed to pause for an instant.

  “I’ll go see for myself,” Hadar said, dismounting calmly. His voice carried authority but also a quiet unease. “Stay here. If anything happens, don’t wait for me, head straight to the North Gate.”

  He drew his sword and began walking toward the mound, boots splashing softly in the rain.

  “Do you think they’re the corpses of Church soldiers?” Sirius asked, his voice barely above the drizzle.

  “They’re wearing uniforms… but I can’t tell which,” Cor replied, squinting through the rain.

  As Hadar approached the heap, his stride quickened, something in his posture shifted. The group exchanged uneasy looks.

  “That doesn’t look good,” Jin muttered. “Shouldn’t we be running the other way before whatever did that comes back?”

  But Orin ignored the warning and started toward the site himself.

  “Orin, what are you doing?” Sirius called after him.

  “Stay back!” Aran snapped.

  Orin pressed on, rain soaking his cloak. The smell hit him first, iron and ash. When he approached Hadar, he finally saw them clearly. The uniforms. The crests. The scorched armor still gleaming faintly in the stormlight.

  They weren’t Church soldiers.

  They were League knights.

  A chill ran through Orin’s spine. His breath caught in his throat as thunder cracked overhead, shaking the ground beneath them. For a brief moment, everything went silent. Then came another strike, louder, closer, like the heavens themselves were splitting open.

  Hadar straightened, face pale, and turned toward the group.

  “Everyone—run!” he shouted, voice raw with panic. “Get out of here! Now!”

  But no one moved. Orin stood frozen, paralyzed by a suffocating pressure that made it hard to even breathe. His heart pounded so hard it hurt.

  Then—

  A low, guttural laugh echoed through the ruins.

  “Now you understand, Hadar…” came Kane’s rasping voice, twisted with madness. “You never stood a chance.”

  The chained man had somehow risen to his knees, his bloodied grin wide and wild.

  “You know who’s capable of wiping out an entire League platoon alone, don’t you?” he croaked, laughter breaking into a fit of coughs.

  Hadar’s eyes darted frantically through the shadows, searching for the source of that oppressive aura, until he saw him.

  A man stepped forward from the darkened ruins, sword and shield in hand. Rain slid off his polished armor as he lifted his gaze. Silver hair clung to his temples; golden eyes burned like twin embers beneath the storm.

  “Sir Varis…” Hadar’s voice trembled. “This—this can’t be… Why are you—?”

  Kane’s laughter grew louder, manic.

  “You never imagined the greatest knight of the League would side with us, did you?!” he howled. “Behold, the Church’s divine weapon—Sir Varis, wielder of the magic sword Augur!”

  The sound of thunder drowned his final words as lightning illuminated the street, revealing the fallen knights, the rain, and Varis’s blade, which shimmered with a ghostly, otherworldly glow.