That’s a big step that not everyone is strong enough to make. You say you went to Uther to punish...

That’s a big step that not everyone is strong enough to make. You say you went to Uther to punish yourself, but what I hear is that you broadened your horizons, met new people, and looked for alternative ways you could serve your country. That’s not punishment; that’s healing. You’re on the right path."

"I don’t deserve to heal. These wounds will stay with me until the day I die, as they should."

"Healing isn’t the same as forgetting what happened. To heal means to come back from what you’ve endured, to be made better by what failed to kill you. The fact that it still hurts when comrades die is a good thing. It means you care about those you’ve lost and those around you. You care about doing things right. You care about learning from your mistakes and improving yourself. Be glad you feel that pain, but don’t wallow in it.

You didn’t end your own life, you didn’t numb yourself to loss or dismiss what happened to your men, you didn’t escape your grief by crawling into a bottle or turning to some other means of intoxication. Instead, you found purpose. Your only mistake is looking at it as a way to suffer instead of a way to grow. If you’re not ready to forgive yourself, that’s fine, take all the time you need, but self-flagellation won’t accomplish anything. Only growing stronger and succeeding where you failed will do that.

We can never make up for the deaths we cause, be they from our decisions or straight-up murder. All we can do is work harder to save more lives than we take to tip the scales in our souls so that we can look at ourselves in the mirror and not want to break the glass."

Noah got up with a wince and limped over to the window, looking out at the jungle in all its beauty. "Valia once told me that guilt from battle is a good thing, that it keeps us grounded, keeps us from forgetting the importance of life, and she made a good point. Guilt isn’t supposed to weigh you down; it’s supposed to drive you forward. You’ve decided to have a positive influence on this world, and that’s a good thing.

You’re an elf, meaning that time holds no sway over you. You can spend the rest of eternity helping and protecting others if that’s what makes you happy, and I don’t just mean other elves. Let your men be the reason why you change the world. If the death of one person drives you to save a thousand, that doesn’t make you a failure; it makes you a hero. You can’t change your past, but you can choose what kind of man it’ll make you for the future. The question is if you’ll face the future with despair or hope."

"I’m glad my lessons stuck." Both Noah and Aithorn turned around to see Valia standing in the doorway. "Hearing you say those words is the only reason I’m not going to slap you for doing something so reckless as what you pulled earlier." She then walked over and hugged Noah tightly, painfully so. "Don’t ever do anything like that again. I already had to see Valon in that near-death state, and now I had to see you."

"I’m sorry for worrying you. Thanks for taking such good care of me."

Valia then turned to Aithorn. "I always wondered why you chose to become a knight, and why you’ve always been so cold and miserable. But if it makes you feel better, I know how much it hurts to lose people under your command, to lose people because you weren’t strong enough to save them. I know what it’s like to return to Sylphtoria and feel only heartache."

"Thank you."

"Anyway, I’m guessing that Leuca has gotten you up to speed?"

"Yeah, just give me a healing potion and then let me talk to Gradius’s men."

The morphine pills were easing his pain, and with a healing potion to restore his stamina, Noah followed Valia and Aithorn out of the room. Nature had colonized the palace, with moss and ivy claiming every spot that received even a glimmer of sunlight.

He was brought to what had once been the grand hall, a massive chamber exemplifying the beauty of elven architecture. Vines wrapped the towering pillars, and the vaulted ceiling had gaping holes that let the sun and the rain in. Beautiful murals adorned the walls, depicting the island's history, and while covered with dirt and lichen, the colors remained clear and pristine.

Birds made their nests in upper corners and any high ledges, and now squawked in annoyance that their peace was being disturbed. Here, Gradius’s men and the elves had set up camp. Less than half of the original two-dozen silver-ranked knights that followed Gradius into the jungle remained, and most of them were badly wounded. The one remaining healer of Noah’s group, Sinta, was doing her best to mend their injuries, but even with magic, there was a lot of damage that simply couldn’t be fixed.

Fangs and claws had carved up their bodies, and their skin blistered from infected bug bites and exposure to toxic plants. A few of them even showed severe burn marks. From the looks of it, they ran out of potions quite a while ago, and any healers they brought with them were long-dead. Even healed, the knights’ faces were gaunt with pain and despair.

"Lord Noah," said the elf, Orville, bowing before him and leading the others to do the same. Having saved them from the basilisk, it seemed he had finally won their respect and admiration.

"You did well in getting here. Nobody died while I was unconscious, I hope."

"No casualties, sir. We ran from as many fights as we could to get here."

"Good work." Noah then turned to the tired Utheric knights. "Gentlemen, how are you enjoying your jungle safari?"

The knight in charge of the group looked like he wanted to spit a curse, but after hearing how the elf addressed Noah and all the rumors of his combat skill, he decided not to challenge the new pecking order. "Sir Noah."

"What’s your name?"

"Ryan Alto, sir." His hair and face were a mess, and it looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He had the eyes of a man who had seen his friends get dismembered, disemboweled, and everything in between.

"Sir Alto, you and your men should be proud of yourselves; you’ve lasted longer than most. It’s no small feat to reach this place. You are indeed Knights of Uther. Now, my comrades and I are willing to help you get off this island, but only under two conditions: you help us fulfill the goal we came here for, and my orders supersede all other authority. If Gradius or the king himself were to stand here beside me, you listen to me and only me. If I’m not around, you take orders from Valia and Aithorn, understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now I was told you all left Gradius to his own devices. Do you know where he is?"

"All we know is that he’s continuing to search for Sir Zodiac. He was relentless, burning and butchering every monster that crossed his path, but we are not as powerful, nor as fortunate. We came here completely unprepared and lost knights one by one. We begged him to see reason, but he was on a warpath. He couldn’t care less whether we lived or died."

"Well we need to find Valon before he does. We’re going to bring him back to Sylphtoria alive and preferably unharmed, as well as the relics he stole. I trust you have no objections."

"Do you know how to find him?"

Valia stepped forward and showed him the needle. "We have the means to track his location." As she channeled her mana into the needle, the point with Valon’s hair raised itself off her palm, pointing east.

"That direction…." Sir Alto muttered, looking at the needle and then up at the sky, tracking the sun. "He must be hiding in the temple."

"What temple?" Aithorn asked.

"Come with me, there is something you should see."

They followed Alto through the palace, up to the royal bedchamber. All the furniture had long since rotted away to nothing, with various pieces of jewelry gathering dust, but what drew Noah’s attention was an in*****ion on the wall. It wasn’t carved into the stone or elegantly painted on, but scrawled with blood. It was several lines of text in Old Elvish, as well as a rudimentary map of the island with two locations marked; the palace and a temple in the east.

"We found this while exploring the palace. It seems we weren’t the first people to try and hold up in here. I think this is a warning someone left behind. One of my men knows a couple words in elvish and was able to determine this place was a temple, clearly one of significance."

"Valia, can you read it?"

"Roughly. I’m not used to this dialect. Leuca?"

"Yeah, I can read it. It’s not a warning, it’s a retelling of Kisara Island’s downfall."

"What happened?"

"The problems started when their crops were struck with blight, delivered from the mainland. It left the soil inhospitable and led to famine, even killing all the trees. The elves tried to combat the blight with druidism, but it had magical resistance, and continued to grow and develop like a living curse.

Soon after, an earthquake reshaped the ocean floor around the island, making it impossible for ships to land or depart. Countless fishing boats were smashed on the rocks, endless sailors swallowed by the sea. Minus those who died in the earthquake, the island was home to tens of thousands of elves, all facing starvation. They believed themselves cursed, abandoned by the gods and spirits.

Desperate elves turned to diving, trying to find food at the bottom of the sea while using magic to protect themselves. There, they found the cause of the earthquake, a dungeon crab. Inside, they uncovered something, some kind of powerful treasure. They called it the Wildheart, and… Oh my God… It had the ability to perform summoning magic. Animals, insects, and plants; it could create life out of thin air with no mana required by the user.

The king believed that the Wildheart was the island’s salvation, that it could conjure enough food to sustain the population. They housed it in what became the Rays Temple, on an altar that boosted its powers, and used it to summon livestock and crops that could survive in the toxic soil. Then something went wrong, horribly wrong. The Wildheart went out of control, releasing all of its power without restriction.

Trees began materializing in a rapid wave, destroying homes and streets, and powerful monsters were spawned faster than they could be killed. Attempts were made to retrieve the Wildheart and stop the chaos, but no one lived long enough to even climb the temple steps. It speaks of some colossal monster that guards the place.

The elves tried to contain the spread by erecting walls around the temple, but it didn’t take long for the armies of ravenous beasts to spill over the top. Unable to leave the island, they had no choice but to keep building walls and watch them get demolished.

Finally, the island was completely overrun. All the elves were killed and eaten by the endless beasts, while the rapidly-spreading trees turned stone streets into dense jungle. Look down here, the last lines of text. ‘They have taken the bridge and the Second Hall. We have barred the gates but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes... roars, roars in the deep. We cannot get out. The beasts move in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming.’ And that’s how it ends."

"Was it signed?" Noah asked.

"Only with a bloody handprint. Whoever wrote this did so on borrowed time."

"The Rays Temple, huh? Good, then we have a destination."

Despite his words, they did not set out until the following morning. During that time, Noah and the knights continued to receive treatment for their injuries while the elves were busy making arrows to replenish their depleted stocks. Gripped by anticipation, Noah and Valia found no sleep that night.

They set out at dawn, the elves leading the humans, hoping to reach the temple by noon. They passed by the remnants of old walls, some even a hundred feet tall and constructed with and without magic. Many had been knocked over, looking like fallen dominoes, while plants caked the rest.

Dark clouds grumbled like the bellies of the relentless carnivores, but now, the group had the combined lethality of elven archers and Utheric knights, and Noah got them through the jungle without a single casualty. Finally, the top of the temple could be seen in the distance, a lone ziggurat. It sat in the middle of a vast field of debris, from the ruins of houses smashed beneath the feet of monsters. What was concerning was the noise, the furious snarl of an unknown beast.

"Valia, how’s the needle?" Noah asked.

"It’s still pointing at the temple."

"Ok, we’re close enough. Everyone, move into position."

The knights and elves scattered, following the plan established the night before. They set out to surround the temple, following the perimeter established by the first set of walls. The elves would perch themselves on top, while the knights would lay in wait on the ground at any openings. Though Noah and Valia wanted to settle this with conversation, the fact remained that Valon could not be allowed to escape. They were bringing him back to Sylphtoria, whether he liked it or not.

Now, all that remained was Noah, Valia, and Aithorn, about to enter the temple grounds. Bringing too many people to see Valon might spook him, and if the guardian beast was as powerful as its roars suggested, getting more people involved would lead to casualties. They entered the grounds and saw it, standing between them and the temple steps, a 50-foot-tall ape. Its body boasted incredible strength, wrapped in a coat of thick black fur. It was a biological titan.

Then, with a groan, it collapsed to the ground and released its dying breath, its life ended by the horrific burns crisscrossing its body. They looked like they had been inflicted with a great flaming whip, charring even its organs. Now, standing over its corpse was Gradius, alive and thriving. His armor had some scratches and black streaks from charred monster blood, but it was clear the island had failed to vanquish this living tank.

"This isn’t good," Noah muttered.

"I’ll try and talk to him," said Aithorn.

"Look at the flames leaking from his armor," Valia warned. "He’s burning way too hot for you to be able to talk sense to him."

"Maybe so, but I can keep him distracted long enough for you two to get into the temple and find Valon. Besides, if you’re with me, there is no chance he’ll listen."

"He’s right," said Noah.

"If you think you can handle him, go ahead, and good luck," Valia added.

Aithorn nodded to them both and set off across the plains towards the slain gorilla. "Sir Gradius!" he shouted.

Gradius turned to him, with flames swirling from the slits in his faceplate. "It’s about time you got here, you fucking elf bastard! I spent days outside the forest, waiting for you to do your job! First you send me a message saying that Noah is being sheltered by the elves, then you tell me to come out here and kill Valon!"

Aithorn felt a cold stone drop into his stomach with a splash. "Gradius, I wasn’t the one who called you out here!"

"Yes, you are. I get a message signed by you personally. And after you sent me to this spit of land, my men abandoned me! Don’t even think of pulling the same shit!"

"Gradius, you have to listen to me, you’re being manipulated, used as a pawn to kill Valon! Someone sent you that message, but it wasn’t me. I’m here working with Sir Noah and Lady Zodiac to bring him back to Sylphtoria alive."

Gradius raised his axe and pointed it at Aithorn. "You are not shielding another traitor! I’m going to kill Noah and those goddamn twins and present their heads to the king! If you don’t want your head to join them, you will tell me where they are!"

"You stand on elven soil. Your authority is not recognized here."

With a howl of fury, Gradius charged and swung his axe. "The only true authority is power!"

Aithorn dodged the barrage of swings, moving nimbly around the blade. "Don’t do this, Gradius! Your actions may trigger a war!"

"I’ll fight that war by myself if I have to! I’ll reduce all of Sylphtoria to ash and behead every single elf as long as I can collect my prey!"

Aithorn’s demeanor turned cold as ice. "Anyone who threatens my homeland will be erased, even a fellow knight."

As Aithorn and Gradius began their battle, Valia and Noah circled around and raced up the temple steps. "Wait, stop!" Valia suddenly exclaimed. She held out the needle, showing it pointing away from the temple peak. "He’s not in there. He’s moving. Could it be he’s running away because of Gradius?"

"If he is, then the only way to catch him will be to go after him yourself. Besides, it would be better if you talk to him alone first."

"What will you do?"

"I’m going to try and deactivate the Wildheart. Maybe that’ll cause the monsters to disappear and we’ll be able to leave the island safely."

Valia grabbed him by the collar and kissed him. "Good luck," she said.

"You too."

"Zodiac: Boal! Udan! Sandulam!" She activated her magic, boosting her strength, speed, and balance, and took off, shooting across the landscape like a skipping stone.

Noah activated his invisibility and continued up the steps, reaching the entrance to the temple. As he had expected, a protective ward was written on the ground, fending off monsters, and as he entered the temple, it was clear that someone had made their home there. Torches and magic-based lights had been put up, fruit peels and cores were littered everywhere, as well as the bones of cooked animals, and the dirt on the ground showed recent footprints.

He came across what appeared to be both a bedroom and a workshop. There was a simple cot where Valon slept and a table covered with tools, parchment, and bottles of ink. The walls were plastered with pages of diagrams and runic formulas, showing a clear spectrum between genius and insanity with the two often overlapping. Some pages looked like they could have been in textbooks, displaying remarkably complex formulas, alchemic calculations, and celestial measurements. Other pages seemed like they came from a madman’s dream journal, as they bore terrified thoughts, nonsensical questions, and other deranged scrawls.

The Zodiac twins could draw power from runic constellations, yet the stars had become the subject of nightmares for Valon. His writings showed his terror, how those simple twinkles of light haunted him whether awake or asleep. He had experienced true cosmic horror, and it broke him.

Looking through his work was almost painful for Noah, as he had seen this kind of thing before. This manic obsession, this desperate insanity, resulting from a wounded mind trying to heal itself. He had seen it in himself, having spent numerous lifetimes searching for a way to break his curse.

How many attempts had he made trying to build a functioning time machine? How many nights did he spend in front of a computer, going over the blueprints to his Hadron collider? How much radiation did he expose himself to while working on his failed faster-than-light propulsion drive for spacecrafts? He immersed himself in science to try and find his answers, and now Valon was relying on magic while going down a similar path.

"What the fuck are you working on here?" Noah muttered.

Aithorn dashed around the temple grounds, keeping his distance while bombarding Gradius with arrows. He had learned early on to stay away from the walking furnace, lest he be burned simply by the ambient heat. However, being out of range of Gradius’s axe didn’t mean he was safe. Gradius was shooting his focused fire blast relentlessly, carving through whatever he looked at with the roaring laser. He pursued the fast-footed elf with his attack, incinerating the ground Aithorn stepped on, and every time it got too close, a few arrows would throw off his aim.

Aithorn’s arrows were wrapped in lightning, and each time they struck Gradius, they’d explode with a thunderclap and knock him off balance, leaving him momentarily disoriented. The problem was that Gradius’s defense was just as extreme as his offense. As Valia had learned, his armor grew stronger the hotter it got, and Gradius was putting off enough heat to withstand just about anything.

He was the perfect unmoving target, allowing Aithorn to attack from every angle, but he could find no weak point. Even the opening Valia created during their fight had been repaired. The thermal energy radiating from the fight stirred the storm clouds overhead, causing them to growl ferociously with lightning bolts crackling among the gray folds.

A tropical rain began to fall, turning into billowing steam as it reached Gradius. Aithorn used the steam as cover and attacked from behind, stabbing Gradius in the back with his Dragon Impaler spell. His spear managed to gouge a pit into the thick slab of steel, but he could not drive all the way through it. The power of his lightening was strengthening Gradius’s armor, while the heat he gave off forced Aithorn to retreat. Gradius roared in frustration and tried to swing at him, but Aithorn was already well out of range. The two warriors stopped, realizing they were at an impasse.

"Gradius, for once in your life, calm down and do the rational thing! Noah and the twins are not your enemy! There are other ways to amend your exile, but if you continue this fight, I swear to you, you will die on this island!"

"I was not put on this earth for mercy or compromise! I was born to be an executioner! You, who stands before me, are simply the next person that fate has decided I must kill! After that, I’ll kill everyone beneath you, be they those traitorous knights or more goddamn elves!"

Aithorn took a deep breath and put away his bow, instead readying his spear with both he and his weapon glowing with an electric aura. "That’s not going to happen. I’m not losing anyone else, especially to someone like you. This island will be your grave, and as the sky proves, Relampargoza has decided that I, not you, will be the one to win this fight."

He then pulled back his arm and threw his spear, not at Gradius, but the sky. The spear flew as though unbound by gravity while leaving a continuous streak of lightning in its wake leading back to Aithorn. It pierced the cloud cover and then began to turn and twist in the air. Up and down, side to side, it flew freely through the storm, all the while the lightning trail wove its way across the sky like a needle and thread sewing the heavens together.

Aithorn controlled its path with his hand as though the lightning was a kite string, and the longer the spear flew, the more energy it accumulated, both from Aithorn and the sky itself. The streak became more intense, glowing blindingly bright and crackling with immeasurable power. As lightning surged from the spear, the two horizontal blades produced wide-reaching flanges of electricity. Even Gradius was awestruck as he witnessed the titanic serpent of light slithering across the sky.

"Servant of Relampargoza: Divine Winged Snake!" Aithorn called.

He swung his arm, and the spear plummeted out of the sky like a meteor towards Gradius. In a desperate act, Gradius unleashed a powerful jet of fire, trying to destroy the spear before it could reach him. Despite the intensity of the blast, the spear drilled through it, piercing fire with lightning.

The spear struck its target like a missile and a catastrophic explosion of lightning was released, pausing the rain as the resulting mushroom cloud twisted the storm overhead. Aithorn was tossed through the air by the resulting shockwaves, and the elves perched atop the walls nearly fell to the ground.

It took a few moments for things to settle, with Aithorn lying on the ground, barely able to move. The Winged Snake was his strongest spell and came at great cost. Not only had every drop of mana within him been used, but he was rendered blind and deaf from his proximity to the explosion. At least he was still alive and conscious to feel the returning rain. What little strength he had left was being focused on keeping his heart and lungs working.

He lay there for a few minutes, gathering enough strength to drink two potions, restoring his senses and some of his stamina. He slowly got up and limped over to Gradius, now lying on the ground, unmoving. His armor, which had withstood all his flames, was now blackened from the explosive surge. Lodged in his helmet was Aithorn’s spear, smoking and steaming just like Gradius.

"May Tarnas forgive me," he muttered as he pulled the spear free.

"So you two were the ones causing all that racket and making such a mess."

Hearing the familiar voice, Aithorn turned to face the new arrival. He was an elf with dark skin and silver hair and eyes, wearing black cloth armor. He was standing not on the ground, but floating on a circular platform of silver mana. Floating around him were nine melon-sized silver energy spheres, and within each one was a constellation of stars, similar to runes.

He looked down at Aithorn with a hollow gaze as if he were an insect, and seemed utterly indifferent to the rain. The sclera of his right eye had turned red from a burst capillary, and above it was an enlarged vein pushing against the skin of his forehead.

"Leuca Aithorn, the White Serpent."

"Valon Zodiac, the Silver Sage," Aithorn replied.

"You and Gradius are making too much noise and leaving a mess. Leave now or die with him."

"Valon!" He turned, seeing Valia standing nearby, her face wet with tears and rain. At last, the brother and sister faced each other.

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