The night was heavy, the only sound the distant rush of the great waterfall behind them. The two moons bathed the Unbound in pale silver light, but no one spoke.
Lisa sat by the water's edge, her legs dipped into the lake, her shoulders trembling as quiet sobs wracked her body. Tears fell into the water, merging with the ripples, lost in the vastness of the world. Beside her, Jeriana wrapped an arm around her, holding her in quiet solace.
Festron was gone.
The Unbound gathered, standing in a silent semicircle, each holding yellow lanterns, their glow reflected in the water. At the center of it all, a small wooden boat drifted slightly with the current. Upon it, Festron's body lay—surrounded by an abundance of flowers, leaves, and woven branches, a warrior's farewell.
A deep, solemn voice broke the silence.
Spencer's Eulogy
Spencer—a 7-foot-8 Fredeen, his fur brown, his arms and legs short—stepped forward. His expression was one of deep sorrow, but his voice was steady.
"Festron… he was a brother. A friend. He was family."
"He fought alongside us, laughed with us, bled with us."
"And now, he leaves us."
Spencer's small hands clenched into fists, his voice thick with grief.
"But those who leave us… never truly die."
"They live on, in the battles we fight, in the stories we tell."
"In the hearts of those who remember them."
He looked at the boat, his ears twitching slightly, then bowed his head.
"Festron… may your fire never fade."
The Unbound remained silent, their faces like stone, but the weight in their eyes was unmistakable. They were warriors—many had lost comrades before—but the pain never dulled.
Even in mourning, they did not weep.
Except Lisa.
And Dreados noticed.
---
Dreados's Memory
Dreados stood at the edge of the lake, arms crossed, the wind threading through his long, dark hair. The rippling water mirrored the moonlit sky—but his gaze was turned inward, toward years entombed in silence.
A memory flickered.
A younger Festron, trembling beneath the weight of a boulder far too large for his frame.
"I… I can't… not anymore…"
"It's too hard…"
Dreados had merely tilted his head.
"If you stop now," he had said, flat and unimpressed, "I will break your ribs."
No cruelty. Just fact.
The memory shifted. Firelight crackled in the cave of their youth. Laughter, meat charred on iron, shadows flickering across rough stone.
"Dreados," the boy had asked, wide-eyed with smoke and hope, "will I ever be strong like you?"
For a moment, Dreados had seen it—the hunger. The aching will to be more than fragile.
He had answered without warmth, but not without truth.
"You think I am strong?"
He had looked away, voice quiet.
"Then...you've never seen strength."
Festron had blinked. Then scowled.
"That's your answer? What a load of—"
A swift hand cracked him across the skull.
"You forget your place."
"I am your teacher."
The boy grinned, even through pain.
"I didn't forget. I just stopped caring."
Dreados's Eulogy
When the flames of the past had finished speaking in his mind, Dreados inhaled—slow and steady.
Then he turned to the gathered Unbound, and spoke.
"I found him when he was five."
Heads turned. The wind quieted.
"He stood beside his sister, Lisa. Their home reduced to ash. Their kin—burned, torn, scattered. Not by us. But to him… we were all the same."
He paused, eyes distant.
"He struck me. With his fists. Small. Bleeding."
Some in the room chuckled gently. But Dreados did not smile.
"He had no strength. No weapon. Only defiance."
Another pause. Measured. Heavy.
"He asked me if I would harm her."
"I said no."
"I gave him a promise."
He looked to Lisa. Her eyes shimmered. Her hand trembled over her mouth.
"And so… they stayed with me. From that day onward."
A flicker of something passed over Dreados's face. Not grief—not quite. A shadow of it.
"He was like a son."
He bowed his head, ever so slightly.
"And I sent him to die."
Silence.
Then—
"…Lisa."
She stepped forward, a torch in her hand.
He took it gently. The fire cast molten shadows across his expression—still unreadable.
He turned to the body wrapped in cloth and petals. The boy who had once stood against him with nothing but fury and love.
He raised the torch.
"Let no ocean swallow this flame."
"No wind scatter these ashes."
"Let his memory… remain unbroken."
The torch met the boat's edge. Flame licked through the offerings—petals, herbs, sacred ink.
Dreados pushed the boat.
It drifted into the lake, aflame, a vessel of sorrow and remembrance.
One by one, the Unbound raised their lanterns. Golden lights joined the fire—rising, reflecting, ascending.
A vigil in silence.
A farewell, carved in fire.
---
The Outsiders' Perspective
Eryndor, Valerius, and Ziraiah stood at a distance, watching the ceremony.
Beside them, the Elf Queen, her arms wrapped around her daughter, spoke softly.
"They may be dangerous men… but they care for their own."
Eryndor sat on a nearby rock, arms folded. His voice was measured, elegant, but contemplative.
"It seems… they are not the monsters we once believed."
Then, he turned to Ziraiah.
"You spent time with this… Festron."
"What impression did he leave behind?"
Ziraiah hesitated, watching as the burning boat drifted away.
"…He was okay, I guess."
She sighed, crossing her arms.
"He was cocky. Reckless."
"But… he cared about his friends."
"Enough to die protecting us."
Her fingers curled slightly, and she pointed toward Lisa.
"See that girl?"
"That's his sister. If it wasn't for her, I'd be dead."
Eryndor's gaze sharpened.
"You were attacked?"
Lisa wiped her eyes, stepping forward.
"Yeah."
"She gave me courage. She… motivated me to fight back."
---
The Fire Continued to Drift
And the night carried Festron away, his memory etched into those who remained.
---
The Gauge System
The soft glow of floating lanterns cast golden reflections upon the water, shimmering like fallen stars adrift in the night. The gentle roar of the waterfall echoed in the background, yet amidst its endless cascade, a quiet moment of respite settled between the three siblings.
Lisa, Anuel, and Jeriana remained seated by the water's edge, their legs submerged beneath the cool embrace of the lake. Nearby, Valerius approached, lowering himself onto a smooth stone, allowing the water to ripple around his ankles. Now, all the siblings sat together, their shared silence steeped in the weight of the funeral that had just passed.
Eryndor, ever watchful, turned his gaze toward Valerius and noticed his eyes lingering upon Eliana. His voice was smooth but edged with a touch of reprimand.
"Do not stare, Valerius. It is most unbecoming of a gentleman to fixate upon another so openly."
Valerius turned to his elder brother with an expression of pure exasperation, his shoulders slumping in disbelief.
"Dude, you're too uptight, you know that? Why do you always act like an old man?" He gestured toward Eliana, as if expecting Eryndor to finally acknowledge the obvious. "Look how gorgeously beautiful she is. You don't look at girls on earth but come on, look at that, these people are drop dead gorgeous. Even you noticed."
Then, as if struck by an epiphany, Valerius gasped dramatically, covering his mouth in mock horror.
"Wait, wait, don't tell me—you're some kind of monk, aren't you? No wonder you never look at women."
Eryndor, unshaken, merely allowed a small smirk to tug at the corner of his lips.
"Oh, Valerius, the folly of your words is as evident as the predictability of your wit."
From the side, Ziraiah scoffed, arms crossed.
"You're not funny, Val."
Valerius, utterly unimpressed, rolled his eyes and shifted his gaze toward the night sky, watching as the lanterns drifted ever higher, their glow resembling distant constellations.
Eryndor, now composed once more, turned his attention to his sister.
"Ziraiah, recount the events that have led you here."
At his request, Ziraiah nodded and recounted her tale, detailing every event that had taken place since Anuel had abducted her. The battles, the trials, the friendships forged in the midst of danger—all laid bare under the moonlit night.
When she finished, she let out a small breath.
"And… that's what happened."
Eryndor exhaled slowly, shaking his head in astonishment.
"By what stroke of fortune do you yet draw breath after such an ordeal?"
Valerius, on the other hand, was grinning, leaning forward with renewed interest.
"You crushed a monster's head? Damn. That's badass."
Eryndor's brow furrowed slightly, his analytical mind already working through the implications of what he had heard.
"This 'gauge' you speak of… are you the only one who can perceive it?"
Ziraiah blinked, as if just recalling something.
"Oh, right! Yelleen said she'd explain it to you." She turned toward the air, where the sentient entity resided. "Yelleen, did you tell them?"
From nowhere and everywhere, Yelleen's voice manifested around them.
"Ah… I forgot."
Valerius' head snapped toward the unseen presence.
"You forgot? Aren't you supposed to be a really smart AI?"
Yelleen scoffed.
"How dare you equate me to a mere artificial intelligence? I am far beyond such crude designations."
Valerius narrowed his eyes. "Then what are you?"
Yelleen paused, amused, before responding in a cryptic tone.
"You shall know… in time."
Then, in a more instructive manner, Yelleen continued:
"For now, try this. Focus on someone and think of the word 'gauge.'"
Valerius shrugged, glancing toward Omfry. He did as instructed, concentrating on the towering warrior.
And then—it appeared.
Above Omfry's head, nine stars flickered into existence.
Valerius blinked in astonishment.
"Ooh… I see nine stars over that red dude."
Ziraiah, curious, tried the same and gasped.
"Nine stars?"
Her eyes widened, realization dawning.
"And I thought Anuel was strong…"
Eryndor's gaze remained steady, though his curiosity was evident.
"And what, precisely, do these stars signify?"
Yelleen hummed.
"Care to do the honors, Ziraiah?"
Ziraiah kicked her feet in the water absentmindedly, then explained.
"So, basically, these stars tell us how dangerous someone is to us. They can change depending on how strong we are compared to them. Oh, and anything above two stars—"
She turned to Valerius, her expression suddenly serious.
"Certain death. Remember that."
Valerius leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
"Are you kidding me?"
Without hesitation, he began scanning everyone around him, checking one person after another.
Then, he froze.
"…Oh… my… God."
Among everyone present, the majority bore five stars above their heads.
Then, his gaze landed on Sumshus, who sat on a rock, drinking and weeping.
Five stars.
Valerius' mind reeled. He recalled the moment he had stood against Sumshus, trying to save Ziraiah.
"What was I thinking?"
His expression darkened.
"Five stars? That dude could have killed me instantly."
Meanwhile, in another part of the gathering, Silvie felt a strange shift in her vision.
A panel appeared before her.
---
[System Notification: Gauge System Activated]
You can now determine the difference in power between yourself and others.
Note: As you currently are, anything above 2 stars means certain death.
To use this feature, focus on any living creature and think of the word 'gauge.'
---
Silvie's breath hitched.
"What is this…? Could this help me survive?"
She decided to test it.
Focusing on Eryndor, she saw three stars above his head.
She glanced at the panel again. The part about "anything above 2 stars meaning certain death" made her swallow hard.
"Three stars. That means he could kill me easily. But what does that say about me?.
…Oh yeah. I forgot… they aren't human."
Meanwhile, Valerius tried the gauge on Eryndor.
A single star.
Valerius smirked.
"One star? Man, you're weak as hell."
And for the first time since arriving on Yilheim, Eryndor laughed.
A deep, genuine laugh, his hand slapping his knee.
"Have you forgotten, dear brother, that you have never once bested me?"
Valerius' expression darkened playfully.
"Oh, you think you're all that?"
His fist clenched.
"We can go right now. It's been too long since I last punched that irritating face of yours."
From the side, Ziraiah grinned.
"Yeah, beat his ass, Eryndor."
Valerius shot her a look of pure betrayal.
"Why are you always against me?"
Eryndor merely smiled, tilting his head toward the lanterns floating above them. His voice was smooth, composed, and regal, his words carefully chosen.
"There is a time and place for everything, dear siblings."
The golden lanterns continued their slow ascent, drifting higher into the night sky, casting their gentle glow over the lake. The air was still, save for the rhythmic cascade of the waterfall behind them, yet amidst the serenity, tension brewed.
Valerius shifted where he sat, the flickering flames reflecting in his thoughtful gaze. Then, suddenly, he snapped upright, voice low but urgent.
"Hey, let's run."
Ziraiah blinked, unimpressed. "What?"
"Think about it! We're outside now, not trapped anymore. This is our chance. We don't know what these people will do to us once they're done with us. We can't sit around waiting for that."
For a moment, silence. Then—
Ziraiah let out a slow, exaggerated sigh, shaking her head as if trying to comprehend the sheer stupidity of what she just heard.
"Wow, Val. That's a great idea."
She turned to him with a blank stare, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Have I ever told you that… you're an idiot?"
Valerius's eye twitched.
"What did you just—"
He started to rise, but before he could get far, a firm hand pressed against his head, effortlessly forcing him back down.
"Control yourself."
Eryndor's calm, commanding tone left no room for argument. His grip was steady, effortlessly pushing Valerius back into place as if he were a mere child.
"Or have you already forgotten the fate that befell your neck not long ago?"
Valerius clicked his tongue, annoyed but unable to argue.
Ziraiah, however, wasn't done.
"Honestly, I don't even know how Val is related to us. He's so stupid."
Valerius whipped his head toward her, but before he could retort, she continued, voice rising in frustration.
"Where exactly do you think we'd run to? How can we possibly escape them?"
Her hands clenched into fists as she leaned forward, her voice filled with the sharp edge of raw experience.
"You weren't there, Val. I saw how powerful these people are."
Her eyes flashed with exasperation as she pointed around them, motioning toward the gathering of warriors who stood like unmoving titans in the moonlit night.
"Did you even think about how outnumbered we are?"
She exhaled sharply, but the frustration in her tone only deepened.
"Actually, forget that—numbers don't even matter."
She turned to face him fully, voice sharp as a dagger.
"Just one of them is enough to catch us before we even take a step."
The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.
"Did you think about that, Val? Huh?"
A tense silence followed, the weight of her words settling upon them.
Then—a voice, composed and measured, cut through the air.
"That is enough, Ziraiah."
Eryndor's tone was gentle yet firm, his voice as smooth as flowing silk, yet imbued with an authority that demanded compliance.
"You have made your point—there is no need to carve it further."
Ziraiah huffed, crossing her arms, but said nothing more.
Valerius remained still, his jaw tightening as realization sank in.
Damn it… she's right.
---
Not far from them, the Elf Queen sat with her daughter, Eliana, watching the exchange unfold.
She had listened to every word.
Slowly, she turned to her daughter, her expression thoughtful.
"That girl is bright."
Eliana nodded slowly, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her dress.
"She is."
The Queen's gaze returned to the three siblings, observing their dynamic—their frustration, their understanding, their undeniable bond.
"She is right. We cannot escape. If we could, they wouldn't let us walk around freely."
Her voice was calm, resigned, yet unwavering.
"All we can do now… is wait for your father to come."
And with those words, the moon bore witness to the unspoken truth—there was no escape.
Only the uncertainty of what was to come.
To Be Continued...