Two months had passed since Neem became Bound.
He had fulfilled his duties, helped organize the grand entrance trial of the College, and witnessed with quiet pride as Gina and Lester were bound before his eyes. They shared food, laughter, and celebration that evening.
But now, his face wore a stern, tense expression.
Beside him stood a short, freckled girl with wild chestnut hair and a delicate frame—Gina. On his other side towered a thick-skinned young man with muscles like carved stone. His expression was relaxed, even casual, but his sheer height made Neem feel like a child—Lester.
The three advanced with the formation headed north of the city, bound for the Shivering Woods.
Before and behind them marched hundreds of Bound soldiers—two hundred, by the count—and before them stood a raised platform where four Masters presided over the expedition:
Master Kilth,
Mistress Donna,
Master Asher,
and Mistress Zereth.
They were of the elite. No Fused had joined this campaign—for their presence alone was deterrent enough.
Neem leaned slightly forward and whispered under his breath, "I suppose we're in good hands… They say Mistress Zereth is terrifying. A killer. A true dominator."
"Yes… she's very good at killing…" Gina muttered nervously. "My mother sometimes calls her the lunatic."
But Lester only trembled in silence, as if trying to keep still the storm within.
("My lord, why didn't you pursue that lunatic instead of Gina? She suits you more. The madman and the madwoman and their insane fox—what a tale that would make for the City of Faint Light!")
"Shut up," Neem murmured. "I haven't forgotten what you said last time."
("My lord loves drama. What a fall… from a lunatic to a lunatic who loves drama. Why does this man have the potential to become an angel?")
"Attention!"
A voice, soaked in Essence, thundered through the air—silencing every whisper and pulling all eyes forward.
A man stepped forth. Middle-aged in appearance, dressed in little more than a thin fur mantle, and built like a bear. His gaze scanned the formation—sharp, commanding, yet strangely warm.
"Listen," he said. "I'll keep this short. It's freezing, and we move fast.
We march for the Shivering Woods, to aid the Elder Twins—Yasir and Aron. The march will last seven, maybe ten days north.
You'll pull sleds loaded with food, gear, and essentials.
If you have help—use it. If not—bear it.
He paused. His eyes landed on Neem—for just a moment. Just enough for Neem to feel his chest tighten.
Only Flora knew his secret… Had this man found out?
He tried to shrug it off, but the stares from the others made it worse.
"Eat quickly. Once you're done—we march. That's all."
After a rushed meal and a grueling load-up of supplies, the group moved as one toward the northern gate—the Shivering Gate, named after the very forest it faced.
They passed through it and vanished into the darkness and falling snow.
Numbness crept slowly into the limbs of every marcher, but the cold didn't smother their will. They moved forward, their oil-lanterns casting fragile halos of light, just enough to see the path.
They navigated by a spirit-beast—a creature of Essence bound to Mistress Zereth, fluttering silently ahead of them.
("My lord, that spirit beast looks like me… I think it's a manifestation of one of her powers.")
"…Wait. Mistress Zereth is an angel too?!"
("I don't know, my lord. Maybe. But I don't feel any dominance from it. It's probably the strength of a Cursed Beast—no more. Not like a Master.")
"Huh. Maybe it's just a projection of her power. Rare, but possible…"
He exhaled, letting the cold enter his chest.
"Either way—let's reach the Shivering Woods first. Let's see what makes even Masters tremble, and the Fused step cautiously."