A freezing wind rustled the tall grass, carrying the stench of water. Beyond the stalks, the lake churned.
"No patrols," Kian whispered. "We are clear."
Riko and Lucio dragged Kaito through the brush. The brawler's chin rested flush against his chest, his dead weight driving their boots deep into the sucking mud. A wet grunt scraped his throat with every half-step.
Eila took the rear. His eyes tracked the tree line. The leather wrap of Clementia's hilt dug into his cold palm.
The warm silhouette of the hut invited them. Only the black water of the lake stood in their way.
"He will drown if we drag him through the lake though," Riko grunted, her boots sinking into the muddy ground of the lake bank.
Eila scanned the black water.
"The Noxara field won't reach here," Eila stated, his voice flat. "The water is too deep to drag him through. We needed VENTUS...but since we don't have..."
Lucio froze. His hand dropped to his bag. His knuckles turned white against the cold leather as he stared at the Hero.
"I use VENTUS," Lucio said. His voice was tight, an edge of wounded pride cutting through his exhaustion. "The orb. I have used it the entire time."
Eila did not blink. His dead eyes remained locked on the lake. "Lift him."
Lucio swallowed hard, his chest heaving under his soaked robes. He stepped to the water's edge, raising a trembling hand toward the brawler, and squeezed his eyes shut. "I am only used to small objects, but...."
"VENTUS MYTH: SUBLATIO!"
Pale mana shot through his fingers into the dark air, coiling beneath Kaito's limp frame. The magic started gathering against gravity. Lucio's jaw locked. A thin line of blood leaked from his left nostril as the sheer strain threatened to snap his focus.
Kaito's body levitated inches above the mud, hovering over the edge of the water. His frame trembled. Lucio pushed him forward, but the mana fractured. Kaito dropped, hitting the wet earth with a soft THUMP.
Lucio collapsed to his knees. His hands submerged into the cold mud. He took heavy breaths, the blood from his nose dripping onto the ground. Riko dropped beside him and rested a hand on his shaking shoulder.
"I – I am out of mana," Lucio panted. "A minute... just give me a minute before the lake."
Kian sat in the dirt, resting his head against a dead tree stump. The group was exhausted. Their bodies were giving out to the cold.
Eila remained standing. While the others gasped for air, his breathing stayed slow and steady. His hand rested on Clementia's hilt. His eyes scanned the dark woods.
He looked down at the squad. The rigid tension in his shoulders dropped a fraction.
"Three days is a long march," Eila said, his voice quiet. "You kept him alive this far. That took strength. But we cannot stop in the open."
He pointed toward the silhouette across the black water.
"The hut is sixty paces away. Rest when we have a roof."
Riko let out a long breath. She forced herself up, her boots pulling against the thick mud, and grabbed Kaito's arm. Kian pushed off the dead stump with a grunt. He stepped into the lake first.
The freezing water reached his chest. The cold stole his breath, forcing a harsh gasp from his lungs as he waded through it.
He dragged himself up the opposite bank, stopping near where Kaito's unconscious body lay in the dirt.
"Wait," Kian called back to the others, his teeth chattering. "I-I'll do something..."
He found a long, fallen tree near the shore. He dug his boots into the mud and shoved the heavy wood into the water. It floated, bridging the deepest stretch of the lake between the two banks.
"Walk on it," Kian said. He trembled, wrapping his arms around his soaking wet chest. "No need for all of us to freeze."
Riko and Lucio stepped onto the makeshift bridge. They kept their balance over the dark water and walked to the far shore. Eila followed behind them.
Riko slapped Kian on the shoulder.
"Thank you, leader," Riko said. The promise of a dry roof and four solid walls brought a spark of her old energy back. She flashed a tired grin.
Even Kian cracked a smile.
A heavy knock rattled the door. Imara stood. She peered through the glass into the pitch black.
Another knock.
"No one inside?" Lucio shivered, his teeth clicking together.
"Imara. It is us," Eila called out. He raised his fist to strike the wood again.
The door swung open. A flash of gold hair collided with Eila's chest. Imara wrapped her arms around his soaking cloak.
"Thank the gods," she breathed into his wet cloak.
Eila froze. His eyes widened as he stared blankly over her shoulder. His hand hovered in the air, not knowing what to do.
Riko rolled her eyes.
"Y-Yea... we're safe... mostly," Eila stammered. He patted her hair, his cadence completely shattered. "Kaito took severe damage. We found an Alchemist. He is stable."
Imara pulled back, ignoring the wet mud smeared across her own clothes. The squad filed inside. Orlon was already asleep in the back room.
The group collapsed onto the rugs and woven chairs, leaving trails of freezing water and dirt across the floorboards. Riko and Kian hauled Kaito onto the spare bed.
Imara stood over the brawler. Her jaw tightened.
"Why did you use an Alchemist?" She traced the thick, black stitches across Kaito's chest. "Those methods are ancient." She pressed her palm against his ribs, sensing the mana circuits inside. "A tonic? Really?
She let out a long breath and stepped to the wooden cupboard, pulling out a leather pouch of mana stones.
"Another long night." Her eyes locked onto Kaito's mangled flesh. "But the boy will live."
She looked away, staring at the wall. A hint of defiance in her voice still lingered.
"The Alchemist did...an OK work. I will finish it. Kaito will wake up healthy tomorrow." She turned her gaze to the filthy squad. "Boys, use the outer washroom. Riko, inside. Go. Now."
The boys pushed off the floor with heavy grunts. Imara shut the wooden door behind them. She pulled a folded towel from the closet and tossed it to Riko.
"Here," Imara said, her shoulders dropping in exhaustion. "The water is already hot."
Riko caught the linen and headed straight for the steaming copper tub. Her steps mismatched from exhaustion, but a bath would be relaxing.
A hooded figure navigated the packed cobblestone streets of Oakhaven. Black paint coated her nails and her lips.
She hooked a sharp left, descending a narrow flight of stone steps, and rapped her knuckles three times against a heavy door.
A metal slit slid open. A pair of eyes squinted into the dark alley. "What? Oh. It is you."
The slit snapped shut. A heartbeat later, the heavy door groaned open.
She stepped into the tavern, her eyes adjusting to the dim, murky air. She claimed a stool at the scarred wooden counter, flicking three Galvors across the board.
"Would you happen to know about a certain dark-haired boy and a pink-haired girl, my innocent bartender?"
The bartender caught the gold coins, slipping them into his apron with a greedy nod.
"For you?" He poured a rich, amber liquid from a glass bottle, letting it fizz in the mug before sliding it across the wood. "Of course I do, Miss Mora Rin."
Mora Rin's black lips curled into a sharp grin as she picked up the glass.