The towering gates of Vorthryn stood solemnly beneath the rising dawn, massive slabs of obsidian etched with intricate runes shimmering gently in the half-light.
Ajax adjusted the cuffs of his coat, feeling the reassuring thrum of the carefully woven mana enchantments pulsing warmly through his fingertips. His uniform—jet-black with deep green contrast lines—hugged his frame perfectly, tailored for battle, stealth, and pride. His boots bore the gleam of care, and the weightless cloak over his shoulders fluttered with a quiet hum of enchantment.
Beside him, Reva stood silently, her coat matching his in cut and color, though tailored to her leaner build. The green etching formed elegant arcs around her shoulders and flared outward from the cuffs of her sleeves. The sigil of the Valern Scouts—a silver eye over a swordpoint—was engraved on their left pauldrons, subtle but unmistakable.
"You ready?" Ajax finally asked, breaking the tranquil silence. His voice was steady, low, infused with quiet confidence.
Reva's gaze swept over the awakening city one final time before tilting toward him, her lips quirking into a familiar smirk. "Aren't I always?"
He chuckled softly as the gates began to groan open. Guards saluted them with crisp nods, some with mild curiosity in their eye—curious to see the prodigy and his partner in action for the first time beyond city walls—others with surprise to see the youngest members in the history of the scouts be sent out on a mission so soon after joining.
The wilderness outside Rexor spread in layered tones of green and gold. The air grew heavier, wilder, as the rocky roads vanished beneath their feet. The forest canopy thickened quickly, transforming daylight into a dappled mosaic across the earth. Birds chirped overhead, briefly masking the hum of magic beneath Ajax's skin as he activated the Pulse Gate. His awareness sharpened immediately. Beside him, Reva's breath synchronized with his—steady, silent, practiced.
The mission was clear: infiltrate a border camp operated by Cairn forces and rescue prisoners believed to be refugees and defectors. They'd been captured weeks ago—likely for interrogation or worse. It was their job to break them out.
After a full day's travel, they arrived near dusk, crouched on a rocky ridge overlooking the camp. It sprawled below them—wooden barricades, spike pits, torchlight flickering at the edges, and guards moving in disciplined patrols.
"Ogres, lots of them. What are Drakarim forces doing in Velan?" Ajax whispered to himself.
"Fifty guards at least," Reva murmured, watching the patterns.
"Seventy, counting the tower rotations," Ajax corrected. "But that's not the problem."
Reva followed his line of sight and noticed the issue. "Blacephelopes."
Ajax nodded. "Mana beast tuned to being alarm systems through their hearing prowess. Step wrong and make too much noise, the whole camp lights up like a bonfire."
She smirked. "Lucky we have you then."
Ajax silently activated his Breath Gate. The ambient mana whispered into focus, and with a few invisible glyphs traced on his boots, their footsteps went silent. They descended the slope like shadows—soundless, seamless.
At the perimeter, Ajax's fingers danced through the air, weaving glyphs that pulsed and faded as he suppressed the frequency's being emitted by the pairs bodies. The energy around them dimmed.
Then they walked inside, completely unnoticed.
Inside the camp, tension curled tight in Ajax's gut. Everything felt too quiet. They glided past two guards with synchronized strikes—Reva's blade cut one down with precision while Ajax snapped the other's neck with a silent pivot.
They reached the prisoner tents. Ajax slit the flap and slipped inside, eyes adjusting instantly to the dim candlelight.
Dozens of weary faces looked up in disbelief. Bound wrists. Hollow stares.
"We're here to get you out," Reva whispered firmly, already cutting through restraints, "Stay quiet."
Ajax moved quickly, but paused when Reva did. Her eyes were locked on a girl—perhaps their age—whose hair was silver like the moon and long down to her knees.
Ajax watched Reva's expression shift from surprise to confusion to subtle horror.
"You alright?" he whispered.
"I… I don't know," Reva murmured. "She feels… familiar."
Ajax glanced at the girl, something about her angular features and guarded eyes scratching at a corner of memory. But this wasn't the time.
The alarm rang before anyone heard footsteps.
Drakarim magic flared in red streaks overhead.
"Get them out," Ajax ordered.
"What about you?" Reva demanded.
"I'll catch up after I clean up this mess here."
With that, he stepped into the main thoroughfare—alone. Spiral casters and blade-wielding soldiers swarmed the edges of the camp, shouting, converging. First only dozens, then over a hundred. It seemed even his estimate of seventy fell short.
Ajax exhaled calmly.
His hand raised.
And with a snap of his fingers, Creation Magic—a dozen glowing mana daggers flickered into the air around him, rotating slowly in a brilliant arc. Then another dozen. Then more.
"Let's see if I'm rusty," he murmured, and launched them.
They cut through the air like screaming starlight. Guards dropped in waves, many never seeing what hit them. Spiral mages retaliated with conjured flame and stone, but Ajax flowed between them with his gates active—awareness predicting their strikes, speed allowing him to step just barely beyond reach.
He weaved through the chaos like a phantom, conjuring spears, axes, even a chain-blade of pure blue mana that swept five soldiers off their feet in one swing. His aura flared, deeper than before—cold, focused, lethal.
By the time he stood alone, breathing hard, over a hundred corpses lay at his feet.
But then the ground shook.
From the far end of the camp came a roar like stone grinding against itself.
An ogre woman, twice his height, stepped forward from the smoke. Her eyes glowed with molten earth magic, and jagged stone grew along her arms like armor. Each step she took cracked the ground.
Ajax's heartbeat quickened. "Finally," he muttered.
She charged, slamming her foot down to raise a spike of rock from beneath him. He dove, rolling into a conjured sword and parrying her next strike. She swung her stone-formed gauntlet with brutal speed, and Ajax was launched backward.
Ajax counterattacked quickly, still flying backwards from her attack, and wrapped a conjured chain of frost around her right wrist before pulling with all his might. First freezing it, then snapping it clean off.
The ogre let out a earth-shattering scream.
He landed hard, ribs aching, but pushed to his feet and conjured two throwing knives mid-air, hurling them into her shoulder.
She shrugged them off and bellowed.
Their fight danced across the ruined camp like a natural disaster. Ajax was faster, sharper—but she was relentless, her magic reinforcing every punch and stomp.
Eventually, after a flurry of exchanged blows and a blast of earth he barely dodged, Ajax conjured one final weapon: a two-handed sword the shape of the moon. His most familiar form. His mind flashed back to the days when he was known as the Sword God in a world long gone.
With one cry, he closed the gap, blitzing her before she could react, dipped under her swing, and drove the mana blade up through her chest. The glow in her eyes faded as her massive form slumped backward.
He sat on her corpse with a sigh, covered in dust and blood, eyes half-lidded.
"I should head back. It's getting late."
Far from the battlefield, Reva led the prisoners through the thick forest toward the rendezvous point. The strange girl moved beside her in silence, offering help when needed, but saying little.
When they finally reached the planned clearing, Reva barked orders. "Set a fire. Form a perimeter. We may still be pursued."
The prisoners moved quickly. Reva stood off to the side, breathing hard, eyes still haunted by that face she couldn't place.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
Minutes later, a silhouette emerged from the trees. Ajax.
Bloodied but upright.
He nodded at her. "They're safe?"
"All of them," she said.
"Good."
He sat near the fire, not saying more.
Reva looked at him for a long moment. "You shouldn't have stayed behind."
"I had to," he replied. "They needed a chance to escape."
She softened, lips curving slightly. "You always do things your own way, don't you?"
Ajax smiled faintly. "Only when it works."
The fire crackled.
And in the shadows behind them, the girl Reva couldn't remember watched quietly—her eyes reflecting the flames.