Toki and Ummma reached the city before the sun did.
The eastern horizon was still a dull, bruised gray, the kind of color that belonged to the hour when even ghosts were tired. Frost clung to rooftops and shutters. Thin mist lay low along the cobbled streets, hugging the ground like something reluctant to rise.
It was quiet.
No merchants. No drunkards stumbling home. No distant arguments. Even the stray dogs were absent.
Good.
Toki slid down from Umma's back, boots touching stone without a sound. His breath fogged in the cold.
He rested his palm against her thick neck feathers and stroked gently along the ridge where warmth gathered beneath the surface.
"Today," he murmured, "we walk every street."
Umma let out a low rumble in her throat—half complaint, half acknowledgment. Her massive body shifted slightly, talons scraping softly against the frost-slick stones. Though she could not fly, she did not need to. Her legs were pillars of muscle, built for ground and impact.
"I know," he said quietly. "It's a long route. But I promise… once today passes, I'll reward you properly. Double rations. Fresh grain. And I'll brush your feathers myself."
A softer sound this time.
He leaned closer.
"And no grumbling. We can't afford noise."
She snorted once—deliberately louder.
Toki narrowed his eyes.
"Traitor."
Umma tilted her head, as if deeply offended.
He almost smiled.
Then he turned toward the first gate.
The northern entrance stood tall and silent. Iron-bound doors closed but unguarded at this hour. Frost rimed the hinges.
Toki crouched and removed the first crystal from his satchel.
It pulsed faintly in his hand.
Translucent. Veined with black runes etched in his own unsteady script from years ago.
He pressed the crystal into a shallow crevice at the base of the wall, between two ancient stones.
"Anchor," he whispered.
Mana flowed.
Dark mist, thin and controlled now, slid from his fingers and seeped into the runes.
The crystal flared once—dim violet—then stabilized.
He felt it immediately.
A thread.
A radius expanding outward like ripples in still water.
Good.
"One down," he muttered.
Umma shuffled beside him impatiently.
"Three gates," he reminded her. "Then the streets."
They moved.
By the time he finished the fourth entrance, faint color had begun bleeding into the sky. Not sunrise yet. Just warning.
Each crystal widened his awareness.
Not full omniscience.
But pressure shifts.
He could feel the city breathing.
And beneath it—
Nothing.
No metallic tang.
No rot.
No distortion.
Good.
He forced himself not to relax.
They moved toward the central plaza.
The fountain stood frozen at its edges, a thin glass of ice forming over the basin.
Toki approached the water.
His reflection stared back at him.
He knelt and submerged a crystal into the fountain's heart, pressing it beneath the icy surface.
The water swallowed it.
He activated it.
For a brief moment—
The reflection in the water rippled.
Not from wind.
From beneath.
He sharpened his spiritual sight.
Nothing.
Just water.
He inhaled slowly.
Focus.
The crystal's pulse merged with the others.
The plaza now rested within his sphere.
If the miasma rose here, he would feel it.
He stood.
"Good girl," he murmured to Umma.
She lowered her head to drink.
He allowed it.
They moved down the main roads.
At every strategic intersection, Toki placed another crystal—half-buried in snow, tucked into drainage channels, slipped behind merchant carts that would not move until noon.
Each time, he activated them carefully.
Each time, his presence spread.
Layering.
Dominating.
He could almost hear Leonard's voice in his mind.
"I should have asked you sooner," he muttered under his breath.
Umma glanced at him.
"Yes, yes," he said quietly. "You were right too."
She blinked.
He had imagined that.
Probably.
By the time they reached the palace, dawn's first light finally broke the horizon.
The sky shifted from iron gray to pale blue.
The courtyard lay open and wide.
Today, the young knight candidates would gather here for examination.
He placed one crystal in each corner of the courtyard.
Northwest. Northeast. Southwest. Southeast.
When the fourth activated, the air itself felt heavier.
Stable.
Contained.
He closed his eyes briefly.
Within this zone, his mana reigned.
If hysteria began here—
He would know.
He checked his satchel.
Three remained.
Three.
He exhaled.
"When morning fully arrives," he murmured to himself, "one in the throne room. One in the autopsy hall."
His jaw tightened slightly at the word.
"And the last… stays with me."
Insurance.
He mounted Umma again.
"Let's rest."
They returned to the central fountain while the city still yawned in half-sleep.
Umma lowered herself heavily near the basin, folding her legs beneath her body.
Toki removed his gloves and flexed his fingers, watching his breath cloud the air.
He stared at the the water.
His mind drifted.
Just slightly.
Maybe this is it.
Maybe this time—
Umma suddenly plunged her beak into the water and yanked upward violently.
Freezing droplets splashed across his face.
He jerked back.
"Hey!"
Ice-cold shock bit through his skin.
"Are you trying to give me hypothermia? It's still winter!"
Umma recoiled slightly, feathers ruffling in mild guilt.
She shifted closer.
Then, without warning, she unfolded one massive wing and draped it around him.
Warmth.
Immediate.
He blinked.
"…I was joking," he muttered.
But he didn't move away.
"But I won't refuse a warm hug on a night like this."
He rested his head lightly against her side.
She smelled of grain and clean straw.
He exhaled.
"Listen, Umma…"
His voice softened.
"This might be the cycle we win."
The word lingered.
He closed his eyes briefly.
"I was an idiot not to ask Leonard sooner," he admitted quietly. "He told me from the beginning that he would help with anything I needed."
He let out a faint breath that was almost a laugh.
"And I kept trying to solve everything alone."
He looked toward the slowly brightening horizon.
"After today… we'll breathe."
He pictured it.
Kandaki standing straight-backed in knight's uniform.
Tora grinning after outrunning every runner.
"I'll see Kandaki become a knight," he whispered. "And Tora cement her place as the fastest runner of her generation."
His lips curved faintly.
"I'll have to buy gifts."
His eyes softened.
"Tomorrow is the Snow Festival."
Lanterns.
Music.
Candied fruit.
Children laughing without blood in the air.
"I'll continue my training properly," he said. "And I'll take you on more excursions. Real ones. Not desperate patrols."
He reached up and stroked her beak gently.
"I saw you torn in half," he said quietly.
The words were simple.
Flat.
But heavy.
"You're loyal. Loving. And I named you after your species."
He gave a small, self-conscious smile.
"I was never good with names. But I don't think you mind."
He leaned his forehead briefly against her beak.
"Of all the Ummas in the world… you're my Umma."
She made a low, satisfied sound.
Then—
She looked at him strangely.
Almost sad.
He frowned.
"What?"
She touched his hand gently with her beak.
He stared at her.
"That's what I said the last time I gained an advantage," he murmured.
Silence.
"But this time is different."
He inhaled deeply.
"I know how to neutralize both of them now."
Both.
Reflection.
Miasma.
"I've already seen the climax," he said softly. "I don't think it can get worse than that."
The image of the marketplace flickered.
He forced it down.
"You're smart," he told her. "Maybe I should knight you too."
A faint smile.
She blinked slowly.
Morning Comes
The first bells of morning began ringing faintly across the city.
Doors opened.
Smoke rose from chimneys.
Life resumed.
Toki stood and pulled his gloves back on.
"Time."
He mounted her again.
As they headed toward the palace, he extended his awareness through the network of crystals.
The city pulsed beneath him.
His mana—woven like invisible roots through stone and water and iron.
Dominant.
Stable.
He inhaled deeply.
Good.
Good.
We did it.
By the time Toki and Umma reached the palace courtyard, the city had fully awakened.
Armor clinked.
Young recruits adjusted belts and tightened straps.
Standard-bearers raised flags stiffened by frost.
The air buzzed with anticipation.
Toki dismounted and ran a gloved hand down Umma's neck.
"You did well," he murmured.
She nudged his shoulder.
"I know. I know."
He handed her reins to one of his men.
"Keep her in the inner stable. No one moves her unless I give the order."
"Yes, sir."
He didn't miss the pride in the soldier's voice.
He entered the palace.
Bernard and Harold stood near the inner colonnade, deep in discussion. Bernard's hair caught the morning light. Harold looked tired but steady, fingers tapping against the hilt of his sword.
Toki approached with rare brightness in his expression.
"Boys," he said. "Today we catch the Star Collector."
Both men turned sharply.
Bernard blinked. "You sound certain."
"I extended my mana through the entire city," Toki replied calmly. "When he manifests, we will feel it instantly."
Harold straightened. "You're serious?"
"I've mapped the perimeter. Four gates secured. Center reinforced. We surround him the moment he appears."
Bernard's face lit up with something he hadn't worn in days.
"Finally," he said quietly. "Finally we can breathe."
Toki nodded once.
"I believe he'll appear in the plaza. During the lunar eclipse."
Harold frowned. "That's hours from now."
"That makes sense," Harold muttered. "The more witnesses, the more panic."
Bernard folded his arms. "We should tell the civilians to stay inside."
"Yes," Toki said immediately. "And send word home. Your ladies should not come to the city today."
Bernard's jaw tightened.
"They won't."
Harold hesitated.
"Should we inform Smith?"
Toki's expression shifted slightly.
"Smith cannot assist. He's under supervision by the Order and the Church of Moonlight. Bringing him into this complicates everything."
Harold nodded slowly.
"All we need," Toki continued, "is precision. Troops at the four gates. Main force at the plaza. When he appears, the outer forces close in. We trap him."
Bernard studied him carefully.
"Toki… are you certain he'll move how you predict?"
There was no hesitation.
"I've faced him more than once," Toki said quietly. "I understand how he operates."
Bernard inhaled.
"Then we trust you."
The Eclipse Begins
The sky darkened unnaturally.
Not clouds.
Shadow.
The moon slid slowly across the sun.
A ripple of unease passed through the gathered crowd.
Then—
The smell returned.
Faint.
Metallic.
Rotting.
Bernard grimaced.
"Gods… do you smell that?"
Toki inhaled.
Yes.
But weaker.
Much weaker.
His mana field pressed outward, swallowing the distortion.
"No fighting," Toki muttered, scanning the soldiers.
Toki felt it.
His crystals were working.
The miasma bent under his dominance.
He exhaled in relief.
It's working.
We did it.
They stood ready.
Minutes stretched.
The eclipse deepened.
Darkness thickened like ink spilled across the sky.
And then—
Reginald stepped forward.
Toki blinked.
"Reginald?"
The knight walked calmly toward the fountain.
He removed a small glass vial from his coat.
Red liquid swirled inside.
Bernard frowned. "What are you doing?"
Reginald didn't answer.
He uncorked the vial.
And poured it into the fountain.
The water hissed.
The surface bubbled violently.
From within—
Something rose.
Lady Rosalin.
Pale.
Soaked.
Eyes unfocused.
Bernard barked, "What is this? Reginald, we don't have time for games! Why is Rosalin here?!"
Toki's heart lurched.
Mana.
A disturbance.
Close.
Very close.
He felt it press against his field like claws testing a wall.
Another.
Another.
Four points.
No—
Five.
Something massive had crossed each gate.
And was approaching.
Reginald turned slowly.
"I'm sorry."
Rosalin's body began to soften.
Not dissolve.
Melt.
Skin sagged.
Limbs collapsed inward.
Reginald stepped forward—
And his own body began to liquefy.
Bernard staggered back.
"What—"
Rosalin and Reginald folded into each other.
Bone snapping.
Flesh folding.
Muscle twisting.
Their forms fused into a swelling mass of writhing tissue.
It pulsed.
It grew.
Soldiers screamed.
The mass ballooned outward, knocking men aside.
Armor crunched beneath its expansion.
Spines bent the wrong way.
The sound of bones breaking echoed like dry branches snapping in a storm.
The flesh shifted.
Hardened.
Scaled.
Wings tore outward in a violent spray of blood and shattered armor.
A roar split the sky.
The thing rose.
A dragon.
Colossal.
Red-scaled.
Eyes burning with molten gold.
Its shadow swallowed the plaza.
Compared to it—
They were ants.
The dragon inhaled.
Its chest expanded grotesquely.
Toki's voice tore from his throat—
"MOVE—!"
Fire.
A torrent of white-hot flame engulfed the front line.
Men didn't scream long.
They blackened instantly.
Armor fused to bone.
Shields melted into skin.
The stench of burning flesh consumed the air.
Bernard stared in horror.
The dragon's tail came down like a falling tower.
It struck.
The impact shattered stone.
Bodies were flung in all directions.
Some landed wrong.
Limbs bent where they should not.
Some did not land at all.
Harold staggered back, blood across his face that wasn't his own.
"Gate reports!" he shouted.
Messengers burst into the plaza.
"Sir! A dragon breached the north gate!"
"Another at the east!"
"South as well!"
"West—there's one at every gate!"
Toki froze.
"…Dragons?"
Five.
Five dragons.
His formation—
His trap—
Had become a slaughter pen.
Bernard seized him by the collar and slammed a fist into his jaw.
Toki fell hard against the stone.
"YOU SAID YOU KNEW!" Bernard roared. "YOU SAID YOU KNEW WHAT WAS COMING!"
Toki's ears rang.
"I didn't— I thought—"
"YOU DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT DRAGONS!"
The central dragon landed again, crushing three soldiers beneath its talons. Blood splashed across the fountain's rim.
Harold shouted, voice breaking, "The formation's collapsed! They're trapped between fire and walls! It's a massacre!"
Toki's mind fractured.
No.
No.
He had planned every movement.
Every crystal.
Every route.
The perimeter units were pushing inward—
Directly into the jaws of the other dragons.
His design had funneled them.
Concentrated them.
Made them easy to burn.
Bernard shook him violently.
"THIS ISN'T THE TIME TO CRUMBLE!"
The dragon's fire swept across another line.
Men ran.
Some caught flame mid-stride.
They fell screaming, rolling, skin blistering and peeling away in seconds.
"GET UP!" Bernard shouted. "WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF THIS HELL!"