"The First Soul? But he hasnât even trained!"
Solâs heart thudded at the words.
Awakening. Phantom. Judgment.
He had no idea what the rite entailed, but the way they spoke of it made his stomach coil with unease. Still, It seemed like it could be his chance to get the phantom, totem or whatever it was. So, he wasnât really that worried, not like anywhere is truly safe in this world.
"If he is what you say he is, he wonât need one," Veylara said, waving her hand in dismissal. "Take him to the guest-quarters in the Feline Spire. Let him see the city. Feed him, clothe him in something less... conspicuous."
She turned back to her daughter, her expression softening for a fraction of a second. "I am glad you are alive, my daughter. But the mourning will have to wait. The Marauders are at the gates, and the Zharun Tribe is sending envoys."
Kira flinched at the mention of the Zharun tribe, but she bowed again. "Yes, Mother."
Sol didnât say a word as Kira led him out of the hall. He felt Zephyraâs gaze... and her spirit smoke...lingering on his back until the obsidian-wood doors slammed shut.
...
Sol let out a breath of relief. The pressure of the Warchief and the Shaman was really too much.
"We have to move fast," Kira whispered, her face pale. "The Rite of the First Soul is a death sentence forâ"
She stopped. The scent of woodsmoke and ancient incense was suddenly drowned out by the copper tang of fresh blood and the bitter, herbal stench of crushed poultices.
The village square had transformed into a scene from a nightmare.
A ragged line of warriors was limping through the inner gates. The "Great Bone" arches of the city, which had looked majestic moments ago, now felt like the ribcage of a dying beast. Men and women were being carried on stretchers of woven vine; others leaned heavily on notched spears, their leather armor shredded as if by giant claws. Healers in ash-stained robes darted between the fallen, pressing clumps of glowing green moss into jagged wounds to stem the flow of crimson.
Kiraâs hand flew to her mouth, her eyes darting between the wounded. "They are back!"
Sol scanned the crowd with his
Sovereignâs Gaze
. He saw the flickering, tattered phantoms of the returning soldiers...a mangled wolf here, a wingless hawk there... spirits broken alongside their hosts.
Solâs eyes narrowed. This wasnât just a skirmish; this was a slaughter.
"Kira! Youâre back! Praise the Ancestors, youâre alive!"
The shout cut through the groans of the wounded. A group of younger warriors, barely older than Kira, pushed through the chaos, led by a man as the phantom of a
Great Boar
encased his torso, its spectral tusks shimmering with a dull, sickly light. He looked the part of a survivor...his leather armor was caked in grey dust, and he breathed with a heavy, weariness.
His eyes, however, werenât on the wounded; they were locked onto Kira, with a possessive intensity that Sol noticed instantly, tracing the line of her jaw with a hunger he quickly masked as relief.
"Korash," Kira nodded. Her voice was distant, a sharp contrast to his feigned warmth. She didnât miss the state of his gear and hurriedly asked. "Why are you back? What happened? And why didnât I see you during the battle."
"We held," Korash grunted, his boar-eyes flickering, his voice dropping to a gravelly pitch. "Just as you left, the second team had seen the signal for help, and helped us fend them off. But the Marauders are regrouping. Theyâve joined with the Zeriths. A coordinated attack. Itâs never happened before. And the sky... itâs like the world is trying to tell us weâre already dead."
Then, his gaze shifted. The Boar phantom let out a low, territorial snort as he finally acknowledged Sol. His eyes narrowed, taking in the shimmering white tunic and Solâs calm, unbothered expression.
"And who is this?" Korash asked, his tone dropping into a sneer. "Why is he dressed... weird like this?"
"Be respectful. He is our guest," Kira snapped, stepping slightly in front of Sol... a move that made Korashâs jaw tighten with a flash of hidden rage. "Korg... Korg died to ensure he was brought back. I donât think I need to tell you more."
The name Korg acted like a physical blow to the group. The warriors behind Korash flinched, but Korash himself recoiled, his Boar phantom flickering as his breath hitched."Korg... is gone?" Korash whispered, not knowing whether from shock of Korgâs death or another reason.
"He stayed back," Kira whispered, her eyes filling with fresh tears that she quickly wiped away.
He looked at the wounded being carried past, then back at Sol, his grief quickly curdling into a sharp suspicion. "He died for
this
? A boy with no weapon and a fancy rag? Guest or not, heâd better be worth Korgâs soul."
He stepped closer, trying to use the bulk of his phantom to tower over Sol, a subtle display of dominance meant to remind Kira who the "strong" man was.
Sol didnât flinch. He met Boranâs gaze, his crimson eyes reflecting the glowing blue runes of the Great Tree with an unnerving stillness. Through his
Sovereignâs Gaze
, he could see the manâs energy... it was frantic, jagged, and lacked the steady core of a true warrior.
"I didnât ask him to die. But since he did, I donât intend to waste the life he gave me. If youâre so worried about his soul, maybe you should have been there to help him carry the burden."
"And as for being a burden..."
Sol leaned in just an inch, his voice a cold whisper only Korash could hear.
"Iâve seen cowards before, Korash. They usually talk the loudest when the blood starts flowing elsewhere."
The surrounding warriors went silent.
Korashâs face turned a mottled purple, his phantom boar baring its teeth, while his hand flew to the hilt of the bone-knife at his belt. "You littleâ"
"Enough, "Kira stepped between them, her hand on the hilt of her blade. "Heâs going to the Feline Spire. By order of the Warchief. Move, Korash."
Korashâs bravado vanished at the mention of the Warchief. He stepped back, his eyes lingering on Sol with a newfound, hidden venom, before he stepped aside with a mock bow. "Of course. The Feline Spire. Letâs hope our âguestâ enjoys the view while he can. The forest has a way of weeding out those who donât belong."
As Kira led Sol away through the crowded plaza, Sol felt Korashâs gaze burning into his back... a look that had nothing to do with the tribeâs safety and everything to do with the girl walking beside him.