The Mages' Tower. Night.
Mirena sat alone in her room.
The candle burned low, casting flickering shadows across the walls. Her staff leaned against the desk, its crystal dim, its wood still cracked. The mana stone sat beside the candle, dark and warm, pulsing faintly.
She had been thinking about Grog.
About the way he trained. The way he fought. The way he looked at the darkness as if Aldric might step out of it at any moment.
The guild needed leaders. People who had fought the creatures, who understood them, who knew how to kill them. People like Grog.
But Grog was broken. Grief had hollowed him out, left him empty and angry and desperate. He wouldn't leave the palace. He wouldn't leave the canyon behind.
She needed to convince him.
She picked up her quill.
---
Grog,
I'm writing to you because I can't say this in person. Because if I say it in person, you'll argue. You'll deflect. You'll walk away.
The guild is going to be approved. The King has all but signed the decree. Edward's proposal will become law.
The guild will need leaders. People who have fought the monsters, who understand them, who know how to kill them. People like you.
I know you don't want to lead. I know you want to stay at the palace, training, waiting, grieving.
But staying won't bring him back.
The mages are researching the portal. The creatures. The mana. The way the veil opened and closed. We're learning. Every day, we're learning.
With more resources, with more time, with more research—we might learn how to open a portal. A controlled portal. A portal that goes where we want it to go.
To find Aldric.
I can't promise we'll succeed. I can't promise we'll find him. But I can promise we'll try.
And I can't do it alone.
Come to the capital. Help me build this guild. Help me find him.
Mirena
---
She read the letter twice. Folded it. Sealed it.
Sent it.
---
The Palace. The Training Yard. Morning.
The letter arrived three days later.
Grog stood in the center of the yard, his sword in his hand, his chest heaving. The dummies were gone—splintered, scattered, destroyed. He had been here since dawn.
Lira sat on the bench, her wounded arm pressed against her side, her face pale. She had been watching him for hours.
A servant approached. Handed Grog a folded paper.
Grog opened it. Read it.
His face didn't change. His hands didn't shake. But something in his eyes shifted.
"What is it?" Lira asked.
Grog folded the letter. Tucked it into his belt.
"Mirena wants me to come to the capital."
Lira frowned. "Why?"
"The guild. She wants me to lead."
Lira stood. Walked to him. "What did you tell her?"
"I haven't told her anything."
Lira studied him. "You're thinking about it."
Grog met her eyes. "She says they might find a way to open a portal. To find Aldric."
Lira was quiet for a moment. "Do you believe her?"
Grog looked at the letter in his belt. "I want to."
---
They walked to the edge of the yard. Sat on the bench.
The sun was rising, painting the stones gold and red. The dummies would be replaced by midday. The yard would be whole again.
Lira spoke first.
"If you go to the capital, what happens to the palace? To the Duke? To the volunteers?"
Grog shook his head. "I don't know."
"If you stay here, what happens to the guild?"
Grog was quiet for a moment. "I don't know."
Lira looked at him. "You can't be in two places at once."
Grog met her eyes. "I know."
"Then what do you want?"
Grog was silent for a long moment.
"I want to find him."
Lira nodded slowly. "Then go."
---
Grog stared at her. "Just like that?"
"Just like that." Lira's voice was quiet. "You've been training for weeks. Pushing yourself. Breaking yourself. Trying to forget." She paused. "It's not working."
Grog's jaw tightened. "What else am I supposed to do?"
Lira met his eyes. "Find him."
Grog was quiet for a moment. "You think I can?"
"I think you have to try."
---
Grog found the Duke in his study.
The room was small, private, the fire low. The Duke sat behind his desk, reading reports, his face lined with exhaustion.
"Grog." He looked up. "What do you need?"
Grog stood in the doorway. "I'm leaving."
The Duke set down his papers. "Where?"
"The capital. Mirena wants me to help with the guild."
The Duke was quiet for a moment. "The guild?"
"Edward's proposal. The adventurer's guild." Grog paused. "She thinks they might find a way to open a portal. To find Aldric."
The Duke studied him. "Do you think they can?"
Grog met his eyes. "I don't know. But I have to try."
The Duke was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded.
"Go."
---
Grog turned to leave.
"Grog."
He paused.
The Duke stood. Walked around his desk.
"Aldric was a good man." His voice was quiet. "He saved us. All of us." He met Grog's eyes. "If there's a way to bring him back, I want you to find it."
Grog nodded. "I will."
The Duke clasped his shoulder. "Farewell."
Grog turned. Walked out.
---
Lira was waiting in the courtyard.
Her horse was saddled. Her pack was tied. Her bow was across her back.
Grog stared at her. "You're coming?"
Lira raised an eyebrow. "You think I'd let you go alone?"
Grog almost smiled. Almost. "I didn't ask."
"You didn't have to."
---
They rode out as the sun began to set.
The palace disappeared behind them. The road stretched ahead, empty and long. The hills were green, the fields were gold, the sky was wide.
Grog rode at the front, his eyes on the road, his hand on his sword. Lira rode beside him, her wounded arm pressed against her side, her face calm.
The capital was days away. The guild was not yet built. The portal was not yet open.
But they were moving.
And that was enough.