They sat around a real table for once.
Not a stone. Not a tree stump. Not the dirt floor of a forest clearing scorched by a campfire.
Just a warm, solid table inside the dining hall of a modest inn—lit by soft lanternlight and filled with the quiet clinking of cutlery, the distant hum of conversations, and the faint scent of herbs simring from the kitchen.
Dirga. Kaela. Saelari.
Finally... resting.
Saelari leaned forward, brushing her silver hair back behind one ear. "So... how’s the food?" she asked, her voice casual.
It was the first proper al any of them had eaten in weeks. No dry rations. No foraged roots. No barely-roasted at.
Kaela answered instantly. "Goooood," she said with a mouthful, eyes sparkling with joy as she stabbed at another portion on her third plate. "So good."
She looked like she’d co back to life just for the taste. Even ordered dessert.
Dirga, on the other hand, barely glanced at his plate as he chewed. "It’s fine."
He was never one to comnt on flavor—food, for him, was survival fuel. As long as it wasn’t poisoned, it went down.
Saelari chuckled. "Of course that’s your answer."
For a few minutes, they ate in silence, soaking in the unfamiliar comfort. Then, inevitably, the topic shifted.
"So... what’s next?" Saelari asked, glancing between them. "What are you two planning to do?"
Dirga didn’t answer right away. Neither did Kaela. The question lingered, heavier than the plates in front of them.
He had no map. No beacon. No idea how to contact Sasa across this infernal realm.
Only that the tournant was the key—and ti was slipping away.
"I’ll start by gathering information about the tournant," Dirga finally said, voice steady. "If I can find the details... maybe I’ll figure out how to ."
Kaela remained quiet, her golden eyes downcast. Her fingers circled the rim of her glass.
Saelari watched them both, then let out a small sigh and reached into her dinsional backpack.
She pulled out a black card and tapped it against the table. With a soft shimr of light, three golden coins appeared.
She slid them toward Dirga. "Take these."
Dirga blinked. "What for?"
"You’ll need funds. Go to Sector X—there’s a fighting arena there. Word is, the arena’s champion has already qualified for the tournant. Might be a good place to start."
Kaela’s head lifted, brows furrowing slightly.
"And what about you?" Dirga asked.
"I’m heading to Sector C," Saelari replied. "There’s a Niphari enclave there—my people. they’re probably panicking, thinking I’m dead."
She turned to Kaela. "Want to co with ?"
Kaela hesitated. Her face didn’t show much, but her body betrayed her—a slight shift, a tensing of her shoulders.
The group... was splitting. After everything.
Even if it was temporary, it still felt wrong.
Dirga noticed it too.
He forced a grin and leaned back in his chair. "Hey—co on. It’s not goodbye.
We’ll et again soon. You two can cheer on when I’m kicking devil ass in the tournant."
Kaela gave him a small, wavering smile. "Okay," she said at last. "I’ll go with Saelari."
For now, the band was breaking. But not forever.
Each step forward brought them closer to what they were ant to do.
And none of them were the sa people who had once stepped into that black forest.
That night, for the first ti in weeks, Dirga slept soundly.
No growls in the dark. No distant screams. No haunted castles.
Just silence... and warmth.
Tomorrow would co—and he would walk alone again.
But he was ready.
Because his purpose hadn’t changed.
He would save Naya.
...
Morning arrived too quickly.
Golden light filtered through the curtains, warm against the polished floorboards. The scent of baked bread and sweet spice wafted up from the inn’s kitchen.
They gathered one last ti, seated around the breakfast table in silence.
No words ca.
No one knew how to begin.
Until Saelari—of course—broke the quiet with a dramatic groan.
"Can we not act like soone died?" she said, rolling her eyes. "We’re not dead. We’re not lost. We’re just splitting up for a bit.
We’ll see each other again—soon. Not just us. Even Theryn. We’ll gather together again."
Kaela gave a soft nod, brushing a lock of chestnut hair from her face.
"Yes," she said gently.
Dirga exhaled, smiling faintly.
"Yeah. We will."
After breakfast, they each took a final bath, cleaned their gear, and returned to the lobby—where the sunlight from the tall windows made the inn feel almost holy.
Saelari adjusted the straps of her backpack. "Alright. See you soon, Dirga," she said, lifting a hand in farewell.
Kaela stood beside her, holding a small satchel of supplies. "Thank you," she said, her golden eyes eting his. "For saving us. For everything."
Dirga looked between them and gave a firm nod.
"Thank you," he replied. "I’d be dead without you both. We’re not just friends anymore... We’re comrades in arms." He paused, then flashed a grin. "And don’t forget to watch in the tournant."
Saelari snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Don’t trip on stage, big shot."
Kaela smiled. "We’ll be cheering."
And with that—
The band disbanded.
Each of them stepping onto their own road.
The war wasn’t over.
Not for any of them.
But for now...
They walked forward.
...
Dirga stepped out of the inn.
The city of Ortheva greeted him with cold wind, buzzing machines, and the distant echoes of a thousand voices.
The morning haze was thinning. The crimson sky above still glowed faintly from the ever-watching Eyes.
He tightened the strap of his black uniform and headed toward the roadside where one of the sector buses humd beside a tallic platform.
From what Saelari had told him, anyone new to the city had to register.
Ortheva didn’t tolerate unmarked travelers.
After a week, you’d be flagged as an illegal entity—then branded as a criminal.
Not ideal.
Fortunately, there was a registration center right here in the Z Sector. Close to the gates.
Dirga followed the tal signs, walking down a wide corridor until he reached a tall building shaped like a shard of obsidian.
Neon lights flickered above the entrance: City Registry – Z Sector.
He pushed open the glass door and stepped inside.
The air was cold. Sterile.
Clean walls, chro counters, glowing panels.
Behind the main desk sat a woman—maybe human, maybe not.
Her skin was lilac. Her eyes glowed faint blue, and thin silver lines ran down her cheeks like circuitry.
She didn’t smile.
"Registered?" she asked flatly.
Dirga nodded. "Yeah."
She tapped her screen. "Na?"
"Dirgantara."
A few beeps later, she tilted her head. "Race?"
"...Human."
She paused. Eyed him. "From which realm?"
Dirga hesitated, then answered. "Earth."
That made her fingers stop.
Her glowing eyes lingered on him a mont longer than necessary.
"...Interesting," she murmured. "First-tirs don’t usually make it this far."
He didn’t reply.
The woman resud typing. "Any affiliations? Sponsors? Purpose of stay?"
"I’m here for the tournant," Dirga answered.
Now that got a reaction.
Her lips curled slightly. Not a smile—but sothing close.
"I see. A challenger, then."
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