Qaritas stared at her.
Xheavend stared at her.
Yandaro—
despite everything—
made the tiniest sound.
Not quite laughter.
Barely even a breath.
But Qaritas heard it.
So did Gawi.
Her head turned slightly toward him.
She didn't comment.
Didn't draw attention to it.
She simply continued toward the front of the ship.
Qaritas followed.
He glanced back once at the empty space where Yzer had stood.
Then toward Xheavend.
Then Yandaro.
World Five.
Galathan.
Teeth.
After Hstrarkit—
Qaritas had one simple request of the universe.
Just one.
Please—
for once—
let Gawi be exaggerating.
The journey to World Five was—
quiet.
Qaritas distrusted it immediately.
No alarms.
No ruptures in reality.
No armies.
No enormous cosmic entities attempting to claim anyone as property.
Nothing tried to eat the ship.
Nothing tried to become the ship.
Nothing crawled through the walls.
After Hstrarkit, Qaritas had developed standards.
They were low.
Very low.
The fact that he had gone several hours without discovering a new species capable of digesting him from another dimension qualified as an excellent day.
He stood beside the ship's viewing membrane as the stars shifted around them.
Xheavend was nearby.
Yandaro sat farther back.
He hadn't spoken much since asking Gawi to return to Hstrarkit.
Nobody pressured him.
Gawi had disappeared somewhere deeper inside the living vessel.
Qaritas hadn't asked where.
After learning where she apparently stored one hundred and eighty-six additional feet of herself—
he had decided curiosity required moderation.
Then—
something appeared ahead.
A world.
Qaritas straightened.
"Is that it?"
Gawi's voice came from directly behind him.
"Yes."
Qaritas jumped.
"Could you stop doing that?"
"No."
Of course.
He looked back toward the approaching planet.
World Five.
Galathan.
At first—
Qaritas didn't understand what was supposed to be frightening about it.
It was beautiful.
Not beautiful in the way Hstrarkit had been beautiful.
Hstrarkit's beauty had always felt crowded.
Wet.
Alive.
Forests piled upon forests.
Silver mist moving between enormous trunks.
Vegetation consuming every available surface.
Something always shifting beneath leaves.
Something always breathing behind you.
Even the sky had eventually turned out to contain things Qaritas would have preferred skies not contain.
Galathan was different.
Open.
That was the word.
Open.
The world rotated beneath them in enormous stretches of pearl-gray land and rust-red desert.
Deep navy seas divided continents so large Qaritas couldn't see their ends.
White coastlines curled around black-blue water.
Turquoise mineral lakes glittered beneath the atmosphere.
Silver-white vegetation spread across plains like frost.
Pale mountain systems crossed continents in enormous ivory chains.
Golden light filtered through the atmosphere, turning entire regions copper and rose.
There were clouds—
but not many.
Nothing seemed crowded.
Nothing seemed hidden.
Qaritas leaned closer to the membrane.
He could see—
everything.
Hundreds of kilometres.
Maybe more.
No jungle blocking the horizon.
No mist swallowing the ground.
No towering vegetation concealing predators.
Just—
distance.
Huge stretches of it.
Xheavend approached beside him.
She stared down at the planet.
For several seconds—
neither spoke.
Then Qaritas sighed.
"Finally."
Xheavend glanced at him.
"What?"
"Somewhere normal."
Gawi stopped behind them.
Qaritas heard it.
He slowly turned.
Her permanent smile remained.
"...What?"
"Nothing."
Qaritas narrowed his eyes.
"That was a suspicious nothing."
"I said nothing."
"You stopped walking."
"I frequently stop walking."
"Not like that."
Gawi continued past him.
Qaritas looked at Xheavend.
"She's hiding something."
"Obviously."
"Should we be worried?"
Xheavend considered the planet.
"Gawi said it had teeth."
Right.
That.
Qaritas had temporarily chosen to forget that.
He returned his attention to Galathan.
Still—
it looked peaceful.
Perhaps the teeth were small.
Reasonable teeth.
A world was permitted teeth.
Animals had teeth.
Qaritas could accept teeth.
Then he noticed the mountains.
His brow furrowed.
One chain ran across an enormous rust-red continent.
Pale ivory.
Smooth in places.
Jagged in others.
Qaritas followed it with his eyes.
Something bothered him.
He couldn't identify what.
Then—
pattern.
The mountains repeated.
Not perfectly.
But enough.
One ridge.
A gap.
Another ridge.
Another gap.
Another.
Each curved at almost the same angle.
Qaritas leaned closer.
"...Huh."
Xheavend looked at him.
"What?"
"Those mountains."
She followed his gaze.
"What about them?"
"They're strange."
Another pale range appeared farther east.
This one curved through the earth.
Not like mountains.
Like—
Qaritas frowned.
Ribs.
His stomach tightened.
He looked farther north.
Another chain.
Smaller.
Segmented.
Repeating.
Rounded structures connected one after another beneath pale soil.
Vertebrae.
No.
That was ridiculous.
Entire mountain ranges did not resemble skeletons.
He stared harder.
That made it worse.
"Gawi."
"Yes?"
"Those mountains look strange."
Gawi looked down at Galathan.
"They aren't mountains."
Silence.
Qaritas waited.
Gawi didn't continue.
He looked at her.
"What are they?"
Gawi walked away.
"Gawi."
No answer.
"Gawi."
Still nothing.
Qaritas looked at Xheavend.
She stared at the planet.
Then at the mountain range.
Then at Gawi.
Her expression slowly became suspicious.
Qaritas sighed.
Of course.
There were no normal worlds.
He should have accepted that by now.
Atmospheric entry began several minutes later.
Galathan grew beneath them.
The golden atmospheric haze swallowed the ship.
The vessel shuddered.
Heat crawled across the viewing membrane.
Orange fire stretched backward along the hull.
Then—
they broke through.
Qaritas forgot the mountains.
Because the sky was full of color.
Thousands of creatures moved through the upper atmosphere.
No—
flew.
Glided.
Qaritas stepped closer.
"What are those?"
Gawi glanced over.
"Vaelori."
They were enormous.
Some possessed bodies barely larger than Qaritas expected—
but their wings—
Their wings stretched thirty—
forty—
perhaps fifty metres.
Six each.
Thin.
Translucent.
Sail-like.
Light passed through them.
Gold.
Rose.
Blue.
Violet.
Pearl.
Turquoise.
Their enormous wings overlapped in the distance until the sky looked as though someone had shattered stained glass across it and taught every fragment to fly.
They didn't flap often.
They rode invisible currents.
Turning slowly.
Gracefully.
Entire groups spiraled upward on thermals.
Others descended toward enormous silver plains.
One passed close to the ship.
Qaritas saw its pearl-gray body.
Long.
Elegant.
Harmless-looking.
Its six wings shifted independently as sunlight passed through them.
Colored reflections moved across the ship's interior.
Gold crossed Xheavend's face.
Blue moved over Qaritas's hands.
Rose—
fell across Yandaro.
Qaritas looked back.
Yandaro had raised his head.
He was watching.
That was all.
He didn't smile.
Didn't stand.
Didn't ask what they were.
He simply looked through the membrane.
At something that wasn't Hstrarkit.
At something alive.
Qaritas didn't say anything.
Neither did Xheavend.
Gawi saw him too.
She also said nothing.
Outside—
another Vaelori passed.
Then another.
Hundreds became thousands.
The sky filled with them.
For several minutes, Qaritas simply watched.
Maybe—
just maybe—
Galathan wouldn't be terrible.
Then every Vaelori folded its wings.
At once.
Qaritas blinked.
Six enormous wings snapped against thousands of bodies.
And the entire flock—
fell.
Thousands of creatures dropped from the sky.
Straight down.
Qaritas rushed toward the membrane.
"What happened?!"
No answer.
The Vaelori continued falling.
One thousand feet.
Two thousand.
More.
They weren't dead.
Qaritas could see them twisting.
Controlling the descent.
But none reopened their wings.
"Gawi?"
"Yes?"
"Why is the sky falling?"
Gawi looked upward.
"Because something larger is coming."
Qaritas slowly looked at her.
"What?"
The light changed.
Not suddenly.
Gradually.
Gold became amber.
Amber became gray.
A shadow crossed the plains beneath them.
Qaritas looked down.
It stretched farther than he could see.
"Cloud?"
"No."
Of course not.
He looked up.
At first—
nothing.
Only pale sky.
Then Qaritas noticed a black line against the horizon.
Vertical.
Strange.
Too straight.
He stared.
It grew.
Slowly.
Not because it was expanding.
Because it was approaching.
Qaritas saw the top.
Towers.
His brain recognized architecture before everything else.
Black towers.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Some broken.
Some impossibly tall.
They rose from—
something.
"What is that?"
Xheavend had moved closer.
Gawi answered.
"Cathedral Beast."
Qaritas stared.
The thing drifted through Galathan's atmosphere.
Not flew.
Drifted.
Like an entire city had been uprooted from the ground and suspended vertically in the sky.
Black stone structures climbed across its body.
Ribs the size of bridges protruded from flesh.
Enormous cavities opened between them.
Long strands hung beneath it.
Qaritas initially mistook them for roots.
Then one twitched.
Nerves.
Thousands of them.
Hanging.
Dragging through clouds.
Its lower body disappeared into haze.
The upper portion resembled a ruined cathedral stretched across something alive.
Something enormous.
Something Qaritas could not find a beginning or end to.
There were openings in its sides.
Windows.
No.
Not windows.
Qaritas leaned closer.
Something stood inside one.
A figure.
Humanoid.
Motionless.
Then another.
Hundreds.
"Are those people?"
Gawi's head turned sharply.
"Don't."
Qaritas looked at her.
"Don't what?"
"Listen."
Qaritas froze.
"I didn't hear anything."
"Good."
Gawi approached the viewing membrane.
"If you begin hearing voices, do not answer."
Xheavend stared at the Cathedral Beast.
"What kind of voices?"
"Any."
"That's not helpful."
"It's extremely helpful."
Gawi pointed toward the creature.
"If it sounds like someone you know—don't answer."
Another finger.
"If it sounds like someone you love—don't answer."
Another.
"If it knows your name—don't answer."
Another.
"If it tells you something only you should know—"
Gawi's voice became harder.
"Especially don't answer."
Yandaro immediately looked away from the membrane.
Qaritas understood why.
His stomach twisted.
The Cathedral Beast continued approaching.
It didn't chase them.
Didn't accelerate.
Didn't roar.
Didn't attack.
That somehow made it worse.
It simply—
came.
Slowly.
Inevitably.
Its shadow spread across Galathan.
The golden afternoon disappeared.
Noon became dusk.
The Vaelori continued falling.
Then—
near the ground—
thousands of stained-glass wings exploded open.
The sky bloomed.
Gold.
Rose.
Blue.
Violet.
Every Vaelori leveled out only metres above the silver plains.
Then fled low across the world.
Away from the thing above them.
Qaritas watched.
"So that's normal?"
"Yes."
"Here?"
"Yes."
Qaritas stared at the floating nightmare.
"And people live here?"
"Many."
"Voluntarily?"
Gawi considered that.
"Mostly."
Wonderful.
Hstrarkit had taught Qaritas to fear what hid behind trees.
Galathan, apparently, preferred allowing him to watch death approach from several hundred kilometres away.
He wasn't sure which philosophy he disliked more.
They descended far from the Cathedral Beast.
Very far.
Gawi insisted on that.
Qaritas supported the decision enthusiastically.
The landscape changed beneath them.
Rust-red desert gave way to enormous silver plains.
Then—
forest.
But even Galathan's forests were open.
The trees stood farther apart than those on Hstrarkit.
Tall.
Fifteen metres.
Twenty.
Some nearly forty.
Their trunks were bone-white.
Smooth in places.
Papery in others.
Silver leaves covered enormous branches.
Wind moved through them.
The entire forest changed color.
Silver—
became burgundy.
Then silver again.
Qaritas stared.
"That's beautiful."
Xheavend nodded.
Tiny white flowers drifted through the air.
No.
Ash.
Flowers releasing ash.
The ship descended through them.
White particles struck the membrane like snow.
Then Qaritas saw structures beneath the trees.
"There's a city."
Gawi corrected him.
"Village."
It was enormous by Qaritas's standards.
Pearl-white towers rose between the trees.
Not tall.
Wide.
Elegant.
Black bridges connected structures across shallow streams.
Transparent walls caught the fading sunlight.
Silver vegetation had grown through courtyards.
There were roads.
Homes.
Platforms.
Open plazas.
And—
nobody.
The ship landed outside the settlement.
Its lower body settled into pale grass.
The living vessel opened.
Dry air entered.
Warm.
Mineral-rich.
Qaritas stepped outside.
Immediately—
he noticed the silence.
Not absolute silence.
Wind moved through the Ishara trees.
Leaves whispered.
Something distant called once.
Then stopped.
But human silence.
Civilization silence.
No conversations.
No footsteps.
No cooking.
No doors.
No children.
Nothing.
Qaritas walked forward.
The white ash beneath his boots shifted.
A bowl sat on a table outside one home.
Another building had objects arranged neatly along shelves.
A piece of cloth hung from a doorway.
Not ruined.
Not torn.
Just—
left.
"Where is everyone?"
Gawi walked past him.
"Gone."
Qaritas looked around.
"War?"
"No."
"Disease?"
"No."
"Yzer?"
Gawi didn't answer.
That was answer enough to make Qaritas uncomfortable.
Xheavend had stopped.
Several metres away.
She stared at one of the buildings.
Not the entire structure.
A carving.
Qaritas followed her gaze.
A pale mask had been worked into the wall.
Smooth.
Pearl-white.
Routes carved across its surface.
Xheavend approached.
Her fingers hovered over it.
"Nhalae."
Gawi stopped.
Qaritas looked at Xheavend.
"You know them?"
Xheavend didn't answer immediately.
She looked farther into the settlement.
At another structure.
Then another.
Her breathing changed.
"No."
A pause.
"I know some of them."
Qaritas frowned.
Xheavend touched her chest.
Her archive.
Of course.
Lives.
The dead she carried.
People preserved because Xheavend refused to allow them to disappear completely.
She crossed toward another building.
Black stone.
Thin channels ran through its walls.
Strange branching structures emerged from the roof.
"Kharovai."
Her voice had become quieter.
Then she saw the trees.
Silver-flowering growth surrounded several empty homes.
Xheavend stopped.
"Mournborn."
Qaritas looked between the different structures.
"All three lived here?"
Xheavend shook her head.
"I don't know."
She walked faster.
One building.
Another.
An empty courtyard.
A pale mask mounted beside a doorway.
No corpse.
No grave.
No destruction.
Nothing explaining why every person had simply—
vanished.
Xheavend turned toward Gawi.
"Goro told me they're gone."
Gawi's wings shifted.
"From here."
Xheavend stared.
"What does that mean?"
"Exactly what I said."
"Gawi."
No answer.
"Gawi."
The permanent smile widened.
Xheavend looked ready to bite her.
Qaritas understood the impulse.
Then—
the temperature changed.
He felt it before anything appeared.
Coolness touched his face.
Qaritas stopped.
Galathan's air had been warm.
Dry.
He could still feel heat rising from the pale stone beneath his boots.
But suddenly—
a breeze moved through the ruins.
Cool.
Not cold.
Gentle.
Like stepping outside beneath a moon after a hot day.
The ash drifting through the settlement slowed.
Silver leaves trembled.
Xheavend turned.
Gawi didn't.
She already knew.
Someone stood between the trees.
A woman.
She stepped through falling white ash.
Qaritas stared.
Her skin was black.
Not dark in any ordinary sense.
Black like deep space.
And across it—
stars.
Actual stars.
Tiny points of silver-white light moved beneath her skin.
Constellations shifted slowly across her arms.
Nebulous clouds glowed faintly along her shoulders.
A soft silver-blue radiance surrounded her entire body.
Her face was delicate.
Elegant.
High cheekbones.
A small upturned nose.
Pale lips touched with silver.
At the center of her forehead glowed a crescent moon.
Her eyes—
gray.
Deep gray.
Like moonlight reflected across still water.
Something moved inside the irises.
Tiny streaks.
Comets.
Perhaps stars.
Qaritas couldn't tell.
Long light-blue hair fell around her.
It didn't obey the wind.
It moved slowly.
Constantly.
As though submerged beneath an invisible lunar tide.
Silver-blue armor covered parts of her body.
Not forged metal.
Liquid-looking.
Smooth.
Lunar filigree curled across it.
Crescent-shaped guards rested along her shoulders.
A translucent cape drifted behind her like illuminated mist.
In one hand—
a staff.
Silver.
Elegant.
A crescent moon rested at its tip.
Soft healing light gathered between its horns.
Qaritas stopped breathing for a moment.
Not because she was frightening.
Because she wasn't.
After Gawi—
Yzer—
Hstrarkit—
the Cathedral Beast—
the woman felt—
calm.
Her presence didn't crush the world.
It settled over it.
Even the ache in Qaritas's body seemed to lessen beneath that cool aura.
The woman looked at Gawi.
Then Xheavend.
Yandaro.
And finally—
Qaritas.
She stopped.
Qaritas glanced behind himself.
Nobody.
He looked back.
The woman's expression changed.
Her gray eyes softened.
A smile spread across her face.
Not Gawi's anatomical nightmare of a smile.
A real one.
Warm.
Almost relieved.
She began walking toward him.
Qaritas looked at Gawi.
Gawi said nothing.
He looked at Xheavend.
She shrugged.
Helpful.
The woman approached.
Qaritas straightened.
"Hello."
She didn't stop.
Qaritas frowned.
"I'm Qar—"
She hugged him.
Qaritas's arms remained at his sides.
His mind emptied.
The woman's embrace was cool.
Not unpleasantly.
Like moonlight against skin.
Her hair drifted around them in pale-blue strands.
Qaritas looked over her shoulder at Gawi.
Gawi's smile widened.
Traitor.
The woman held him tightly.
Not ceremonially.
Not cautiously.
Like someone relieved to find him alive.
Then her soft voice reached his ear.
"Welcome back, my prince."
Qaritas blinked.
The ruined settlement remained silent around them.
Silver leaves turned burgundy in the wind.
White ash drifted between bone-colored trees.
Somewhere above the clouds, a Cathedral Beast crossed the sky.
And Qaritas—
currently being hugged by a moon-skinned stranger in the abandoned ruins of three supposedly vanished peoples—
managed the only response his brain could produce.
"...What?"
Qaritas remained completely still.
The woman did not release him immediately.
That made the situation considerably more confusing.
He had been called many things.
Some flattering.
Most not.
A few technically accurate but unnecessarily descriptive.
Prince had not been one of them.
Eventually, the woman leaned back.
Her hands remained lightly on his shoulders.
Those deep gray eyes studied his face as though confirming something.
Not judging.
Confirming.
Then her expression softened further.
"You're safe."
Qaritas blinked.
"I—"
Her gaze moved over him.
His face.
His arms.
The damage to his clothing.
Every healing wound Goro's training, Hstrarkit, Yzer and the universe in general had collectively contributed.
Qaritas suddenly had the uncomfortable sensation of being examined.
"Mostly," the woman corrected.
"That's generally the best I manage."
A soft sound escaped her.
Laughter.
It reminded Qaritas of distant bells.
Quiet.
Clear.
Then her attention shifted.
Past him.
Her smile changed.
Not disappeared.
Changed.
Qaritas followed her gaze.
Someone else had stepped from the ship.
Ylaris.
Qaritas had been so distracted by being unexpectedly embraced by a moonlit stranger that he hadn't noticed him emerge.
Which—
considering what Ylaris looked like—
was impressive.
Where the woman before Qaritas seemed made from night—
Ylaris looked as though someone had taught a star how to wear a man's body.
Heat moved around him in faint waves.
His skin was golden.
Not merely tan.
Golden.
Warm metallic light moved beneath it as though fire lived just below the surface.
His reddish-orange hair burned brighter near the ends, strands shifting between crimson, amber and gold.
Not flames.
Almost.
His eyes carried the concentrated brilliance of sunlight.
The ruined settlement reacted to his presence.
White ash nearest his feet lifted on warm currents.
Silver leaves reflected gold.
Even the cold lunar air surrounding the woman seemed to meet his heat halfway.
Moon.
Sun.
Qaritas looked between them.
The resemblance wasn't obvious at first.
Their coloring couldn't have been more different.
Then he saw it.
The shape of the eyes.
The cheekbones.
The slight tilt of the head when studying someone.
The way both stood with the effortless balance of beings who had never needed to question whether the world beneath them would support their weight.
The woman stepped away from Qaritas.
"Ylaris."
Ylaris's shoulders relaxed.
Only slightly.
"Kysena."
There it was.
A name.
Kysena approached him.
"I'm glad your mission succeeded."
Ylaris nodded.
"So am I."
"And you returned safely."
"Obviously."
Kysena stopped in front of him.
Her gray eyes moved over his face.
His shoulders.
His arms.
His chest.
Checking.
Ylaris noticed.
"I am unharmed."
"I can see that."
"Then stop examining me."
"I wasn't."
"You were."
Kysena smiled.
Then—
she reached up.
And patted him on the head.
Once.
Twice.
Qaritas stared.
Ylaris froze.
Not metaphorically.
The Ascendant of the Sun—
a being radiating enough heat that the white ash around his boots couldn't settle—
simply stopped functioning.
Kysena lowered her hand.
Ylaris slowly turned his head toward her.
"Kysena."
Her melodic voice remained perfectly innocent.
"What?"
"You patted me."
"I did."
"Why?"
She smiled.
"I wanted to make certain you were safe, big brother."
Something changed in Ylaris's eye.
Qaritas couldn't identify it.
Possibly rage.
Possibly resignation.
Possibly the expression of someone who had endured this exact behavior for several billion years.
"We are twins."
"Yes."
"You are not meaningfully younger than me."
"You are older."
"By minutes."
Kysena's smile brightened.
"Still older."
"That is biologically irrelevant."
"Of course, big brother."
Ylaris's jaw tightened.
Qaritas looked away.
Not because he wanted to.
Because he had the distinct impression laughing would result in incineration.
Xheavend had no such survival instinct.
A tiny snort escaped her.
Ylaris turned.
She immediately looked at a tree.
Gawi's permanent smile offered absolutely no indication of whether she was amused.
Which Qaritas considered unfair.
Kysena patted Ylaris's shoulder.
"You're very brave."
"Kysena."
"Very strong."
"Kysena."
"And very old."
"We are the same age."
"Almost."
"We were born minutes apart."
"Several."
"Three."
"An eternity."
Ylaris closed his eyes.
Qaritas liked her.
He had known her for perhaps two minutes.
He liked her enormously.
Gawi walked past them.
"Kysena."
Kysena looked toward her.
"Yes?"
"Stop tormenting your brother."
"I would never."
Ylaris opened his eyes.
"She has been doing this since childhood."
"Then you've had sufficient time to adapt."
Qaritas looked at Gawi.
That was not helpful.
Ylaris apparently agreed.
Then Qaritas remembered something more important.
He pointed at Kysena.
"Who are you?"
Kysena blinked.
Qaritas immediately regretted the phrasing.
"I mean—"
"I know what you mean."
She gave him a small smile.
Gawi answered anyway.
"Kysena."
One of her four hands gestured toward the woman.
"Ascendant of the Moon."
Kysena lifted her fingers in a small wave.
"Hello."
Gawi continued.
"Healer of the gods."
Qaritas looked again at the crescent staff.
That explained the sensation he'd experienced when she approached.
Not simply cold.
Relief.
The pain in his shoulder had dulled.
His breathing had become easier.
Even the exhaustion dragging at his muscles seemed quieter around her.
Kysena wasn't healing him.
Not actively.
Her presence simply felt like the moment after pain stopped.
Gawi gestured toward Ylaris.
"Ylaris. Ascendant of the Sun."
Ylaris inclined his head.
Then Gawi added—
"Twin children of Kelene, Ascendant of Matter, and Oreian, Ascendant of Planets."
Qaritas went still.
Those names he knew.
Kelene.
Oreian.
Old Ascendant blood.
Primordial lineages whose names appeared in histories older than civilizations.
Matter.
Planets.
And somehow their children had become—
Qaritas looked between them.
Sun.
Moon.
That made an irritating amount of sense.
Xheavend approached.
"You're knights too."
Kysena looked at her.
Something almost nostalgic passed through her gray eyes.
"Yes."
"Azrhoth."
Kysena nodded.
"We served him."
Qaritas caught the shift in her wording.
Served.
Not serve.
He stored that question for later.
He had accumulated approximately fourteen thousand questions since meeting Gawi.
He doubted he'd live long enough to ask them all.
Kysena looked around the group.
Her smile returned.
"It's nice to meet you."
Then—
her gaze found Yandaro.
The smile didn't disappear.
But the healer did.
Not the god.
Not the knight.
The healer.
Qaritas saw the change instantly.
Kysena's attention sharpened.
Yandaro stood several feet from everyone else.
Blood remained on his clothing.
His face was swollen from crying.
There were scrapes along one arm.
A bruise darkened his temple.
One knee had dried blood across it.
Kysena walked toward him.
Yandaro stiffened.
She stopped before getting too close.
"May I?"
Yandaro frowned.
"May you what?"
"Come closer."
He seemed confused by the question.
Qaritas understood why.
Powerful beings rarely asked.
Yandaro looked toward Gawi.
Then Xheavend.
Then back at Kysena.
Finally—
he shrugged.
Kysena approached.
Then lowered herself.
Not kneeling directly in front of him.
Beside him.
Making herself smaller without blocking his path.
Her lunar staff rested across her knees.
She looked at his bruised temple.
The cuts.
The blood.
"You're hurt."
Yandaro glanced down at his knee.
"It's nothing."
"Not there."
He froze.
Qaritas's chest tightened.
Kysena didn't touch him.
Didn't glow.
Didn't raise her staff.
Didn't fill the air with healing magic.
She simply looked at him.
Yandaro swallowed.
"My dad died."
"I know."
No—
He's in a better place.
No—
Everything happens for a reason.
No—
He would want you to be strong.
Just—
I know.
Yandaro looked toward the ground.
"Can you heal people?"
"Yes."
"Anything?"
Kysena's expression changed.
"No."
That answer seemed to surprise him.
Yandaro looked at her.
"But you're the healer of the gods."
"I am."
"Then why can't you heal anything?"
Kysena was quiet.
The silver-blue light beneath her skin moved slowly.
"Because healing is not the same as undoing."
Yandaro's eyes filled.
"If you were there—"
He stopped.
Kysena waited.
"If you were there when he..."
His mouth trembled.
"Could you have saved him?"
Qaritas stopped breathing.
Xheavend looked toward Kysena.
Even Gawi became still.
Kysena did not lie.
"I don't know."
Yandaro's face crumpled slightly.
She continued softly.
"I wasn't there."
A breeze moved through the Ishara trees.
Silver leaves turned burgundy.
Then back again.
"I don't know what happened to his body."
She looked at him.
"I don't know how badly he was injured."
Another pause.
"So I won't tell you I could have saved him."
Yandaro wiped his cheek angrily.
"But maybe."
"Maybe."
That hurt more.
Qaritas could see it.
But it was true.
Yandaro sat down.
Right there.
In the ash.
Kysena sat beside him.
Her robes spread across the ground.
No magic.
No speech.
No attempt to make him stop crying.
She simply stayed.
Yandaro stared at his hands.
After several seconds—
his shoulder leaned against hers.
Barely.
Kysena didn't react.
Didn't turn toward him.
Didn't make the moment larger than he wanted it to be.
She just remained.
Qaritas looked away.
Gawi had taken Yandaro's anger.
Kysena took the silence after it.
Somehow—
he needed both.
Xheavend was watching them too.
Her expression was difficult to read.
Then Ylaris spoke quietly beside her.
"You're Xheavend."
Her head snapped toward him.
"How do you know?"
Ylaris looked at Gawi.
"Gawi talks."
Qaritas coughed.
Gawi's eyeless face turned toward him.
He suddenly became fascinated by ancient architecture.
Xheavend narrowed her eyes.
"What did she say?"
"Enough."
"That's not an answer."
"It is when Gawi is involved."
Correct.
Very correct.
Kysena looked toward Xheavend.
Her healer's attention sharpened again.
"Oh."
Xheavend immediately stepped backward.
"No."
Kysena blinked.
"I haven't said anything."
"You made the healer face."
Qaritas looked between them.
"The healer face?"
"That."
Xheavend pointed.
Kysena looked genuinely confused.
"I only have one face."
"So does Gawi. That hasn't helped."
"Rude," Gawi said.
Xheavend folded her arms.
"I'm fine."
Kysena's gray eyes moved over her.
The scars.
The unnatural patterns beneath her skin.
The places Goro's poison had altered.
The blood Yzer had once used as a road.
Something in Kysena's expression became very quiet.
"No," she said.
Xheavend's jaw tightened.
Kysena added gently—
"But I won't touch you."
That stopped her.
Xheavend stared.
Kysena rested both hands around her staff.
"If you want me to examine you later, I will."
A pause.
"If you don't, I won't."
Xheavend said nothing.
Then—
a sound rolled beneath them.
THOOM.
Qaritas felt it through his boots.
Everyone stopped.
Dust jumped from the ground.
The pearl-white structures around them trembled.
One of the black bridges groaned.
Yandaro lifted his head.
Kysena stood immediately.
Qaritas looked around.
"Earthquake?"
Nobody answered.
That was becoming an increasingly bad sign.
A flock of birds exploded from the silver forest.
Hundreds.
No—
thousands.
Small black bodies.
Silver eyes.
They rose from the trees in a single enormous spiral.
Grief Finches.
Qaritas had seen them gathering around the abandoned settlement.
Quiet creatures.
Almost unnervingly quiet.
Now they fled.
Every one.
The silver forest emptied.
Above them—
the distant Vaelori changed direction.
Then disappeared toward the horizon.
Qaritas looked at Gawi.
She wasn't moving.
That frightened him more than the tremor.
Her head had turned toward the distant mountains.
Her four arms hung still.
Her wings—
slowly opened.
"Gawi?"
No answer.
Ylaris was staring in the same direction.
The fire beneath his golden skin brightened.
Kysena rose and placed herself slightly ahead of Yandaro.
Qaritas's stomach sank.
"Gawi."
"What?"
"Why are you paying attention?"
Her head turned slightly.
"Because something moved."
Qaritas stared at her.
"The ground moved."
"No."
That was worse.
"What moved?"
Gawi looked back toward the horizon.
"The thing beneath it."
Qaritas closed his eyes.
Of course.
Of course there was a thing beneath it.
THOOOOOM.
The ruins shook violently.
A pearl-white wall cracked.
Black bridges groaned.
White ash erupted from the ground.
Yandaro stumbled.
Kysena caught him.
Qaritas nearly fell.
Xheavend grabbed his arm.
Then—
far beyond the silver forest—
a mountain moved.
Qaritas stopped.
Not shook.
Moved.
The entire pale ridge rose.
Slowly.
Millions of tonnes of rust-red earth began sliding from its sides.
Trees fell.
Stone cascaded downward.
Dust exploded into the sky.
Qaritas stared.
"No."
The ridge continued rising.
More earth peeled away.
And beneath it—
white.
Not stone.
Too smooth.
Too clean.
Something enormous curved upward from beneath the world.
Sunlight struck its surface.
Ivory.
Qaritas remembered orbit.
The repeating mountain chains.
The curves.
The symmetry.
Ribs.
Vertebrae.
They aren't mountains.
"Oh."
Several kilometres away—
another section of land ruptured.
Something pale emerged.
Then another.
Farther away.
Another.
Qaritas's mouth went dry.
The structures weren't random.
They were evenly spaced.
Curved.
Tapered.
One after another.
A pattern.
Xheavend stepped forward.
Her face drained of color.
"Those aren't separate."
Qaritas looked at her.
"What?"
She pointed.
"Look."
He did.
One ivory structure.
Then another.
Then another.
A row.
His mind resisted the answer.
Absolutely refused it.
Then the nearest structure rose high enough that the taper became visible.
A point.
Qaritas whispered—
"That's a tooth."
Nobody corrected him.
Far across the plain—
something appeared in the sky.
At first Qaritas thought it was another Cathedral Beast.
Then six enormous wings opened.
White.
Polished.
Ivory.
A colossal creature hovered above the landscape.
An Ivory Shepherd.
It raised all six wings.
Every animal Qaritas could see began moving.
Not panicking.
Leaving.
Immediately.
Gawi watched the Shepherd.
Ylaris's voice became quiet.
"How long?"
Gawi didn't answer.
Kysena did.
"I don't know."
That answer frightened Qaritas considerably more.
Another tremor.
Smaller.
Deeper.
Qaritas looked toward Gawi.
"What happens now?"
Her permanent smile remained exactly where it had always been.
"Now?"
She looked across the rising row of ivory.
"Welcome to Galathan."
Another tooth rose.
The forest shuddered.
Ash lifted from the ruins.
And somewhere beneath World Five—
something inhaled.