Mystvael

Ryder and Eon entered the village just as the sun broke over the horizon. But instead of the quiet morning they expected, they walked straight into chaos. A crowd had gathered in the square, and the desperate cries of a woman carried through the air.

Ryder’s brow furrowed in concern. Something was wrong. He instinctively slowed his pace, trying to make sense of the commotion, but Eon pressed forward without hesitation.

“Let’s keep moving. We need to get to the docks,” Eon said, his voice firm.

As they passed the square, the whispers of onlookers drifted to Ryder’s ears.

“Her husband was taken by the Mist last night,” someone murmured.

Ryder stiffened. So this Mist was real, powerful, merciless. The woman’s wails sent a chill down his spine, and for a brief moment, he considered stopping. But Eon was already ahead, weaving through the narrow streets leading to the docks.

The harbor was alive with activity. Ships of all sizes lined the waterfront, their sails catching the early light as dockworkers bustled about, securing cargo and preparing for departure.

Eon wasted no time. He approached a nearby worker. “Who do I speak with about passage across the Sea to Felrose?”

The man glanced at them, sizing them up before jerking his chin toward a burly figure a few docks down. “Talk to him. He handles the schedules.”

Eon nodded in thanks and strode toward the man, Ryder close behind.

“Excuse me, sir,” Eon began, flashing a bright, confident smile. “When does the next ship leave for Felrose?”

The man barely glanced up from his clipboard. “Ain’t headin’ to Felrose anytime soon, I’m afraid.”

Eon frowned. “Why not?”

“Next ship ain’t leavin’ for another week,” the man said gruffly. “This lot here’s bound for Tidefall. If you’re in a hurry, best find yourself a private ferry.” He shrugged, already shifting his attention to a nearby worker.

Eon’s shoulders slumped. “I bought tickets and everything,” he muttered under his breath before turning back to Ryder with a sigh. “Looks like we’ll need another plan.”

He scratched his chin, then glanced up at the Ryder. “We should head to the inn. It’s been a long night, and we’ve barely slept.”

Ryder nodded, suddenly aware of the exhaustion weighing on his limbs. The adrenaline that had carried him this far was finally wearing off, and the thought of rest was almost too tempting to ignore. He stifled a yawn and followed Eon into the heart of the village, already dreading the long wait ahead.

As Ryder and Eon made their way back down the docks toward the inn, a young woman suddenly burst from a nearby home, her steps urgent as she rushed straight toward Ryder.

“S-Sir, you’re a mage, right?” she asked in a hushed tone, her face flushed with what looked like panic.

Ryder blinked, momentarily caught off guard. She had tan skin, long chestnut-colored hair, and striking light brown eyes that seemed almost mesmerizing in the morning light.

“Y-Yes? I am,” he whispered, still unsure of what to make of her.

A breath of relief escaped her lips. “Good, I was right,” she murmured before quickly motioning for him to follow. “Please, I beg of you, come with me.” Without another word, she turned on her heel and hurried back inside.

Ryder glanced at Eon, whose eyes had gone wide with immediate distrust.

“Absolutely not,” Eon warned, his tone sharp.

Ryder shook his head. “Eon, she seems desperate. Let’s at least hear her out.”

“It could very well be a trap,” Eon countered, his voice laced with urgency.

Ryder chuckled. “Come on, be serious. We’ve handled worse, haven’t we? If there’s trouble, we can deal with it. Let’s just see what she needs.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and followed her into the house.

Eon exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath before following, eyes darting around with caution. He was already on edge, and this situation wasn’t helping.

Inside, Ryder took in the home’s surprisingly spacious interior, though the ceilings felt a bit low. It was a split-level layout. Down a short set of steps to the left, the living area stretched out, its walls lined with bookshelves crammed with tomes, framed photos, and an assortment of knickknacks. To the right, a floating staircase led up to a small landing and a hallway. Beneath the stairs sat a cozy but well-equipped kitchen, neatly arranged with everything one might need. Directly ahead, a corridor lined with four doors stretched into the house.

Ryder’s curiosity deepened, but he remained calm. Whatever this woman needed, it was important enough for her to risk approaching strangers in a panic.

Eon, however, remained tense, scanning every shadow as if expecting an ambush.

The woman shut the door behind them. "I saw you at the docks earlier and could sense it. You’re a powerful mage. Please, you have to help me rescue my little brother. The Mist took him." Her voice broke as tears welled in her eyes.

Ryder stiffened.

Eon, arms crossed, tilted his head. "So you’re a mage then? If you could sense Ryder’s power, you must be one yourself."

The woman nodded. "I am—or, at least, I’m training to be. I’m a self-taught pyromancer. Your aura was overwhelming; that’s how I knew you might be powerful enough to help."

Ryder’s expression darkened. "I’m so sorry… but I don’t know how I could help."

"Oh, but I do!" she exclaimed, rushing to a nearby bookshelf. She yanked out a worn leather-bound book and hurried to the coffee table between two identical couches. "Please, sit." She gestured toward the couch opposite her as she flipped feverishly through the pages.

Ryder and Eon exchanged uncertain glances.

"Sorry, miss," Eon interjected. "We need to get to Felrose as soon as possible. We should really be going."

The girl looked up, fresh tears streaking her cheeks. "How? The next ship to Felrose isn’t for another week."

Ryder hesitated, exchanging another glance with Eon. "We… haven’t figured that out yet."

She sniffled, wiping her face. "Then help me, and I’ll help you. My family owns a boat. I’ll take you to Felrose myself. Just as soon as my brother is safe. You have my word." She clasped her hands together. "Please, it requires a powerful mage."

Ryder sighed, then nodded to Eon before taking a seat across from her. Eon hesitated but eventually did the same, arms still crossed.

"What requires a powerful mage?" Eon asked, his voice edged with suspicion. "And who even are you?"

The woman’s face flushed with embarrassment. "Oh—my apologies. My name is Inferys, but please, call me Erys." She took a deep breath, collecting herself. "Let me start from the beginning…"

She straightened. "My brother was taken by the Mist. According to these notes, only a powerful mage can bring someone back from it. You’re the strongest mage I’ve ever encountered, especially here in Mystvael. If anyone can save him, it’s you."

Ryder frowned. "That still doesn’t explain how I’m supposed to help."

Erys exhaled slowly. "I know this is sudden. But you’re my last hope. I don’t know exactly how to do it yet, but I have a theory."

Ryder studied her. He could already feel Eon’s growing impatience, the silent plea for them to leave written all over his face. But something in Erys’ voice, in her desperation, made him hesitate. He had been told multiple times now that he was powerful; perhaps powerful enough to make a difference. If he could help, how could he ignore it?

"Alright," Ryder said finally. "I can’t just stand by and do nothing. What does the book say?"

A choked sob escaped Erys before she buried her face in her hands, tears of relief slipping between her fingers. "Thank you! Oh, thank you!"

After a moment, she pulled herself together, sniffling as she turned her attention back to the book. "This is my notebook. I’ve compiled research from the Moonvael Library. It details the origins of the Mist." She flipped a few pages, her fingers trailing over the worn parchment.

"The Mist wasn’t always dangerous," she explained. "When Mystvael was first founded, it was actually a breathtaking sight. An ethereal glimmer in the moonlight, drifting through the village every night. People loved it. They would stay out late, basking in its glow. But over time, the Mist thickened. Those who lingered too long vanished, never returning come morning. Yet every night since, their voices could be heard, crying out for help."

Erys’s voice wavered. "Now, the Mist has only grown denser, blindingly so. Its glimmer still calls to people, but stepping into it now… you can’t see more than a few inches ahead. And the voices—they lure others in. That’s how people keep getting lost. That’s how it took my brother two nights ago."

Silence settled between them. Ryder processed her words, but before he could respond, Eon spoke first.

"So what exactly do you expect us to do?" he asked, his arms tightening over his chest. Something about his tone made Ryder glance at him curiously, but he couldn’t quite place why Eon seemed so agitated.

Erys looked at him, almost startled by his coldness. "The most powerful magic I can think of might be able to clear out the Mist, break it up. I’ve spent years training as a Pyromancer after my mother was lost to it. I thought if I became strong enough, I could burn through it. And I have been able to make a dent, I’m just not there yet." She clenched her fists. "But you are."

Her mother was taken too? Ryder thought, his expression darkening. “Okay… tell me, how do you weave fire?” he asked, curiosity laced in his voice.

Erys’s eyes widened. “Y-You don’t already know?” she stammered. “But you’re so powerful…” She looked genuinely baffled, trying to make sense of it, even closing her eyes to reevaluate Ryder’s magical prowess. However, before Ryder could respond, she pressed on. “Well, for me, it comes from emotion. I think about my mother leaving us all those years ago—how she chose, on her own, to walk into the Mist. I hated her for it.”

Her voice wavered, eyes glistening as she clenched her fists. “Even now, I get so angry just thinking about it.”

Sparks crackled from her fingers.

She took a sharp breath, exhaling with force as she flicked her palm open. A ball of bright red flames ignited above her hand, casting a fiery glow across her face. Her breath came fast, her expression twisted in pain, in fury. The fire flared for a moment—wild and erratic—before she shut her eyes, forcing herself to exhale slowly. As she released the anger, the flame flickered and began to die.

“I’ve learned to control it,” she said. “But it took practice. A book I read said pyromancy can also come from passion or sheer determination. I imagine passion would create a much steadier flame; something natural, warm, controlled. Anger, though… it’s unpredictable. Harder to rein in. I know that from experience.” She flexed her fingers before curling them into a loose fist, extinguishing the last embers.

Ryder nodded. “That’s… good to know. Thank you for explaining.” He hesitated before adding, “And I’m sorry about your mother.”

Erys turned away, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s fine.”

Ryder leaned back into the couch, absorbing what she had said. Passion, determination, or anger. He wondered how each would affect pyromancy, what kind of flame each would produce. Would his own determination be enough?

He closed his eyes and focused on home; on the burning desire to return. One day, he would make it back. The thought filled his chest with warmth, spreading through him like a slow-burning ember. It moved from his heart down his arms, toward his fingers, as if he were willing the heat to follow.

Then, a tingling sensation.

Ryder opened his fist and snapped his fingers on instinct.

A massive flame erupted from his palm, shooting up to the ceiling. His eyes widened in shock as heat rushed over his face. Acting fast, he closed his fist just as Erys had, and the fire vanished in an instant. But the damage was done—an unmistakable scorch mark marred the ceiling.

Ryder paled. “I—” He bolted upright. “I am so sorry!” His words tumbled out in a rush. “I didn’t realize—I didn’t mean—”

Eon let out a low whistle. “That was… quite the show.”

Erys was already on her feet, staring at the ceiling in awe. “It… it’s fine! Really!” She turned and hurried down the hall.

A moment later, she returned with cleaning supplies, setting them down on the table. As she got ready, Eon stepped forward. “Let me handle it.”

Erys frowned. “Huh?”

Eon merely held up a hand. With a single wave over the supplies, the items glowed faintly before floating into the air. Sponges and cloths twirled on their own, enchanted, as they drifted up to the ceiling and began scrubbing away the scorch mark.

Erys stared in open awe. “Wow. You’ll have to teach me that.”

Eon chuckled. “Just a simple enchantment spell.”

Ryder groaned, still wincing. “I really didn’t mean to do that.”

Erys shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “No, really—it’s fine. I’m just…” She looked at him, her expression unreadable. “I’m just glad to know you’re even more powerful than I thought.”

Ryder let out a breath, still feeling heat on his cheeks. This time from embarrassment.

Eon stretched and yawned. “Alright, we need to rest. It’s been a long night.” He nudged Ryder. “Let’s head to the inn.”

Ryder was about to agree when Erys perked up. “Wait—you need a place to stay?”

He blinked. “Uh… yeah?”

She brightened. “Then stay here. Two of my brothers are out fishing and won’t be back until tomorrow. My father was assigned to the last ship to Felrose and won’t return for a few days. We have plenty of space.”

Ryder glanced at Eon before turning back to Erys. “We wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It’s no imposition, really. If you’re going to help find my brother, this is the least I can do,” Erys insisted.

Eon folded his arms. “Does your father or your other brothers even know he’s missing?”

Erys’s eyes glistened with tears as she shook her head. “No… I was supposed to look after him.” Her voice wavered. “He was sick, so he stayed behind when my brothers left on the boat. And my father put me in charge of the house when he left. I should have kept him safe.” She swallowed hard, her fists clenching at her sides. “I can’t believe I was so irresponsible.”

Ryder’s expression softened. “What happened?” he asked gently.

Erys exhaled shakily, hugging herself. “The first night my brothers were gone, he was acting strange. He was upset about missing the trip, but he was also feverish. I made him soup, put him to bed… everything seemed fine. But when I woke up the next morning, he was gone.” Her voice cracked. “I found a note on the kitchen table. He wrote that he was going to find Mom.”

Ryder’s stomach twisted.

“We’ve heard her voice before,” she continued. “Even now, sometimes, late at night. But we know what the Mist does—it takes.” She shook her head, as if trying to rid herself of the painful memory. “When I read the note, I went to Moonvael that night and searched the library for anything I could find about Mystvael. I spent all night reading, trying to find a way to save him. That’s when I found the History of Mystvael and took notes.” Her hands trembled as she rubbed her arms. “I came back before nightfall and started practicing my magic. And then… I heard him. Crying out for me from the Mist. I couldn’t do anything. I just sat here, rereading my notes, trying to get stronger—but I wasn’t strong enough to do anything to the Mist.”

Her voice cracked, and she looked away, her face flushed, on the verge of breaking down. “If we don’t save him… my brothers, my father—they’ll never forgive me. And I’ll never forgive myself.”

Ryder’s chest ached at the pain in her voice. He took a step closer, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Erys, this isn’t your fault. Your brother made a choice, and you couldn’t have stopped him. We will bring him back. I promise.”

Erys looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with pain turned gratitude. “Thank you… truly. And I just realized I never even asked your names.”

“I’m Ryder, and this is Eon,” he said, offering a warm smile.

Erys nodded, glancing between them. “Thank you both. This means more to me than you’ll ever know.” She inhaled deeply, steadying herself, then gestured down the hall. “Let me show you to the guest room.”

At the end of the corridor, she stopped between two doors. “The left door leads to the bathroom. The right is the guest room. My father sometimes has his dock friends over, so it’s already set up with two beds.”

She opened the door, revealing a modest but comfortable space. Two beds rested against opposite walls, each with a small side table and an oil lamp waiting to be lit.

Ryder stepped inside, his exhaustion catching up with him. “Thank you, Erys. This means a lot.” A yawn escaped him as he sat on the edge of one of the beds.

Eon nodded in agreement. “It’s very kind of you.” He gave her a respectful bow.

Erys smiled warmly. “You’re welcome. And if either of you need anything, just ask. I’ll be in the living room, going over my notes.”

She gave them one last grateful glance before quietly closing the door behind her.

Eon and Ryder each collapsed onto their beds, exhaustion pulling them into sleep almost instantly.

Hours later, Ryder stirred, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. He glanced at Eon’s bed—empty. His grogginess faded instantly.

Muffled voices drifted in from the living room.

Frowning, he ran a hand through his hair and pushed himself off the bed, following the sound. When he stepped into the living room, he found Eon and Erys sitting on the couch, papers and notes spread out between them.

Eon looked up first, offering a rare smile. “Hope you slept well because we have a plan to save Castor.”

Erys’s expression was hopeful, almost glowing.

Ryder straightened, his curiosity piqued. “That’s great! What’s the plan?”

Eon adjusted his glasses and motioned for Ryder to sit. As Ryder settled in, Eon continued, “We went over every possibility. If we tether ourselves together with rope, we can move through the mist without getting separated. Once we find Castor, we rift back here. And if anything goes wrong, we rift out immediately.”

Ryder blinked, surprised by how confident Eon suddenly sounded. Just hours ago, he’d wanted nothing to do with this. Now he was at the center of the planning.

“That… actually sounds perfect,” Ryder admitted, a grin creeping onto his face.

Erys nodded. “It was Eon’s idea. I never even knew rift magic existed until he explained it.”

Eon shrugged. “I’m fairly certain that’s what the book meant when it said only a powerful mage could do it. Rifting is the fastest way out of danger.”

As Eon and Erys continued to discuss their thoughts, Ryder stood and moved to the window, gazing out at the ocean. The sky was painted in deep golds, pinks, and oranges as the sun dipped lower. The water shimmered in the fading light, and far in the distance, he noticed a thin, iridescent band on the horizon, shifting like liquid rainbows.

As the sun continued to set, the mist rolled in, thick and ghostly, pulsing with strange colors beneath the growing darkness.

Eon joined Ryder at the window, his fingers tightening on the windowsill. “When night falls… we go.”

Ryder raised a brow. The sudden shift in Eon’s attitude nagged at him. He had resisted this mission at every turn and now he was taking charge. Something had changed.

But there wasn’t time to question it. The Mist was coming.

And soon, they would be in it.

Darkness settled over the village, the fog thick and suffocating. Ryder stared out the window, but all he could see was a dense, swirling void that shimmered faintly under the moonlight, its iridescent glow both mesmerizing and unnerving. Erys had been right, he couldn’t see a thing beyond it.

Erys took a deep breath. “It should begin any—”

A sound cut through the silence.

Cries.

Muffled, desperate.

They weren’t coming from a single direction, it was as if the voices surrounded them, pressing in from every side, seeping through the walls.

Eon stiffened. His breath hitched. “I hear…” His voice wavered.

Erys swallowed hard, her hands clenched into fists. “Their cries. I know.” Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “I can hear my brother’s voice. Clear as day.”

Ryder turned to her, heart hammering.

“It’s said that if someone you love has been taken, you’ll hear them above all the others. That’s why so many walk into the Mist. They think their loved ones are just within reach.”

Ryder strained to listen, but the voices blurred together, a twisted cacophony of anguish. He couldn’t pick out a single one; just overlapping wails, a chorus of agony. It clawed at his mind, overwhelming, almost suffocating.

If the hell he had read about had a sound, he imagined this would be it.

Erys suddenly turned and hurried upstairs, returning moments later with a long coil of rope. “My father keeps extra in the storage closet.” She tossed it onto the table, quickly untying it. “We’ll tie ourselves together. That way, no one gets lost.”

She looped the first length around her waist, tying a firm knot at the front before passing the rest to Eon.

Eon hesitated. His fingers trembled as he took the rope, unspooling enough to give Erys some slack before knotting it around himself. His jaw tightened as he wordlessly handed it to Ryder, reality setting in.

Ryder did the same, securing the knot with steady hands. When the last of the rope was fed back to Erys, they checked the ties, ensuring they were fastened tight.

A tense silence filled the room.

Erys exhaled, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “Are we ready?”

Eon shivered. “I… Yes. Let’s go.” He squared his shoulders, though his unease was clear.

Ryder nodded, feeling the weight of the moment settle over them. He met Erys’s determined gaze. “Let’s save Castor.”

Upon hearing her brother’s name, she didn’t hesitate. Nodding once, she turned and grasped the door handle. With one final breath, she pushed it open.

The Mist slithered into the house, its iridescent glow flickering like ghostly embers. The cries within it grew louder, reverberating through the walls, surrounding them.

Erys took a deep breath. Without hesitation, she stepped forward, gripping the rope tightly as she did. Eon and Ryder followed closely behind, their bodies tensing as the Mist swallowed them whole. The door shut behind them, sealing them in this otherworldly plane.

Immediately, the world around them shifted. The familiar cobblestone path that once led from the house was gone. No roads, no landmarks, just an endless, directionless void. It felt as if they were walking in place, yet moving forward all the same.

Erys clutched the rope tighter, grounding herself before summoning a flame into her palm. The moment the fire flickered to life, the Mist recoiled, retreating from its heat. A small pocket of clarity formed around them, revealing glimpses of their surroundings. She turned, her flame casting a warm glow onto Eon. Relief washed over her; he was still there.

“Fire! It pushes back the Mist!” Erys shouted over the haunting wails.

At the back of the group, Ryder caught the glow flickering through the fog. He steadied himself, inhaling deeply as he reached for the power within him. He thought of home, of how badly he wanted to return, of the frustration that led him to this place. His fists clenched, his chest tightening with burning heat that surged down his arms, pooling into his fingertips.

With a sharp snap, fire erupted from both of his hands, twin pillars of flame billowing outward. The Mist shrank back instantly, revealing the world they had stepped into.

Ryder’s breath caught in his throat.

The ground beneath them was not solid, not truly. It was like standing on a glass lake, perfectly clear, revealing the abyss below. And within that abyss, frozen in eerie stillness, were countless figures; statues of people, unmoving, gleaming like marble under the firelight.

The three of them stopped, the flames illuminating the void around them.

Erys gasped, horror widening her eyes. “Are these…” Her voice faltered, barely above a whisper as her flame flickered and died in her palm. The shock paralyzed her.

As her fire vanished, the Mist surged forward once more, its iridescence pulsing, eager to reclaim the space it had lost.

Ryder swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. More figures floated in the distance, above and below, suspended in time, trapped within this endless void. He held onto his fire, refusing to let it falter, though his own fear seemed to fuel it further.

“Erys,” Eon’s voice cut through the moment. “Do you hear him?”

Erys didn’t respond. She stood frozen, her gaze locked on the haunting figures below.

“Erys!” Eon called again, his voice firmer this time.

She blinked, snapping out of her trance. Slowly, she turned to Eon, tears slipping down her cheeks.

Eon held her gaze, his hands gripping her shoulders. “Do you hear your brother?” His voice was steady, anchoring her.

Erys inhaled sharply, realization dawning on her face. The weight of the moment settled in, pushing aside her shock. She wiped her eyes, turned toward the Mist, and listened.

For a moment, there was nothing but the agonized wails.

Then—

“Y-yes…” she breathed. Her head turned sharply toward the distance, her expression shifting from grief to determination. “Yes, I hear him.”

She took a step forward. “This way.”

Eon and Ryder exchanged a look, nodding in silent agreement before following her lead. Ryder’s flames stretched out around them, carving a path through the Mist as they pressed on.

The hunt for Castor had begun.

They had been following Erys’ lead for what felt like an hour when Eon suddenly stopped, jerking the rope tight and yanking Erys back. Ryder halted as well, following Eon’s line of sight.

“Ack—!” Erys stumbled before catching herself. “What’s wrong?” she asked, stepping to Eon’s side and scanning the area ahead.

Then, she saw it.

Floating beneath them, frozen in the Mist like a figure trapped under ice, was a marble-like man with spiky hair and a sharp goatee. His blank, upward-facing expression was eerily still.

Eon’s breath hitched. His hands clenched into fists, his whole body trembling. “It’s…” His voice cracked.

Ryder frowned. “Eon, who is that?”

Eon’s gaze remained locked on the figure. A tear slipped down his cheek. “Ezrael.” The name fell from his lips in a whisper, filled with sorrow. “So this is what happened to you.” His voice wavered. “I heard your voice… and I ignored it. I should have come looking for you. I should have found you.”

Ryder’s stomach twisted. Eon knew him.

Erys darted a glance between them, her face etched with unease. The sight of Eon’s pain struck something deep within her, threatening to bring her to tears.

But Eon took a sharp breath, forcibly wiping his eyes before replacing his glasses. “Erys, let’s find your brother and get out of here,” he said, voice tight with restraint.

Ryder hesitated. “Eon, are you—”

“No. Let’s go.” Eon’s tone left no room for argument. He took another steadying breath and squared his shoulders.

Ryder exhaled heavily but nodded. He could see the sorrow lingering in Eon’s eyes, but now was not the time to press him. Instead, he turned to Erys, who had already steeled herself. Despite the fear in her expression, a fire burned beneath it—a determination to save Castor from the same fate.

She turned, pushing forward. The group followed, urgency settling in their bones.

Suddenly—

“H-he’s getting louder!” Erys gasped, picking up the pace. The rope jerked as she pulled Eon and Ryder forward with her. “We’re close!”

A moment later, a shadow took shape in the Mist.

A boy stood before them, unmoving, his eyes glazed over. He looked no older than Eon. His body remained flesh and blood, but his expression was hollow, empty. He was trapped in a silent, catatonic state.

Erys let out a strangled cry and rushed forward, flinging her arms around him. “Cas! Cas, you’re here!”

The boy stirred, barely. A weak movement at her touch, but no recognition in his eyes.

“I hear your voice, but you’re not speaking. I’m right here, Castor. I found you,” she sobbed, cupping his face, her fingers threading through his hair before pulling him close again. “Please… wake up.”

Eon stepped closer, eyes darting over the boy. “Look at his legs! What’s happening to him?”

Erys pulled back, her breath catching in her throat. Castor’s lower half was fading, his legs becoming translucent, dissolving into the Mist like it was devouring him.

Her body shook violently. “It—it’s eating him! We have to get him out of here now!”

Eon spun to Ryder. “Ryder! Open the rift!”

Ryder didn’t hesitate. He dropped his flames, allowing the Mist to surge forward, filling the void. As it wrapped around them, he held out his hand, focusing on Erys’ home. A shimmer of energy cracked through the air before a rift split open, revealing the warm glow of the living room beyond.

As soon as the portal was stable, Ryder reignited the flames, pushing the Mist back just enough to keep their escape route clear. “Move! Now!”

Erys gripped her brother, trying to pull him forward—but he wouldn’t budge. “He’s in a trance; he won’t move!” she cried, panic rising in her voice.

Eon grabbed Castor’s arm and yanked. Nothing. “The Mist still has him,” he growled, glancing at Ryder.

Ryder strode forward, lowering his flames until they licked at the fog clinging to Castor’s body. The Mist recoiled, writhing as it tried to maintain its grip, but Ryder pushed the heat closer. The moment it reached Castor’s fading legs, the fog retreated violently, evaporating in an instant.

With a gasp, Castor collapsed, his full form solid once more. Erys and Eon barely caught him before he hit the ground.

“Go, now!” Eon barked.

Ryder held the fire steady as Erys and Eon dragged Castor through the rift. The instant they crossed, Ryder released his flames and lunged through himself. The Mist clawed at the threshold, pouring into the house, but as the rift snapped shut, it vanished, sealing the nightmare behind them.

Silence fell over the living room.

They had made it.

Castor lay motionless on the couch, his eyes open but unfocused; glazed over, barely breathing.

“He’s alive… and whole again,” Eon murmured, fumbling with the knots to free himself from the rope. Relief tinged his voice, but uncertainty remained.

Erys knelt beside her brother, hands trembling as she gently touched his face, searching for any sign of response. The distant cries still reverberated from beyond the walls, an eerie reminder of how close they had come to losing him. “Cas, please… please come back to me,” she whispered, her voice thick with desperation.

Ryder, now untied, moved beside her. “Let me try,” he said softly.

Erys hesitated before shifting aside, watching him with tear-filled eyes—hope and sorrow warring in her expression.

Ryder pulled up Castor’s shirt, revealing a large scar stretched across his chest. His brows furrowed at the sight, but he said nothing. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a vial from his vault—the shimmering water of Auravael Lake swirling within.

Uncorking the bottle, he extended his hand, drawing the water upward in a thin, rippling veil that coated his palm. As he pressed it to Castor’s chest, the liquid pulsed with a faint magical glow, one only Ryder could see.

He closed his eyes, focusing. Searching.

Something was wrong.

It wasn’t like the aether sickness he had cured before. There was no pull—no threads of energy to unravel. Just a void, an unyielding wall blocking his magic entirely. His heart sank as he pushed deeper, trying to find a way through, but nothing changed.

Defeated, Ryder finally pulled his hand away. The light flickered and faded. Silently, he wove the water back into the vial and dispelled it into his vault.

He stood, his throat tight. “I—I’m sorry,” he muttered, stepping back. “I couldn’t help him.” His voice wavered as he turned away, retreating toward the guest room. The weight of failure settled heavy on his shoulders.

Erys barely acknowledged his departure. Her world had shrunk to the fragile figure before her. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks as she gathered Castor into her arms, holding him close, her sobs muffled against his chest.

“At least you’re home,” she whispered through her tears, clutching onto him as if afraid he might disappear again. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

Eon followed Ryder into the bedroom, closing the door behind them. “Ryder, are you okay?”

Ryder was already lying on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, his fingers laced over his chest. “I’m fine,” he said, though his voice carried the weight of disappointment.

Eon sat at the foot of the bed, patting Ryder’s leg. “It’s okay. We got him out of the Mist—he’s alive. I know it’s frustrating that your hydromancy didn’t work, but we don’t even understand what kind of magic this is. I-I’ve never seen anything like it, not in all my years.”

Ryder remained silent, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. Then, without shifting his gaze, he spoke. “Who was Ezrael?”

Eon let out a heavy sigh, his head lowering. “He…” The word caught in his throat. After a pause, he continued, his voice quieter. “He was my best friend. We were brought into this world at nearly the same time, and we were inseparable for decades. The last time I spoke to him was nearly forty years ago. He told me he was going on an adventure. Said he’d be back within a week.”

Eon swallowed hard. “A week turned into weeks, then months… then years. I spent a good year searching for him, even passed through Mystvael more times than I can count. But after finding nothing, I had to accept that he was gone. And now I see why he never returned.”

Ryder sat up, his expression softening. He reached out, patting Eon’s back. “I’m really sorry, Eon. I can’t imagine how it must’ve felt seeing him like that.”

Eon clenched his jaw. “I heard his voice.” His hands curled into fists on his lap. “When the voices started, I heard him crying for help, calling my name. The further we went, the louder he got. And when I looked down, he was right there, staring up at me. But that wasn’t him. It resembled him, sure, but it was a cheap fabrication. It took Ezrael, and if we hadn’t had the fire or your rifting magic, it would have taken us too.”

Ryder exhaled, letting the weight of Eon’s words settle between them. “Well… I’m just glad we saved Castor. I only wish I knew how to break that trance.”

Eon looked up, his eyes searching Ryder’s face. Then, as if a realization struck him, he sat up straighter. “We’re already going to see the Grand Luminary,” he said. “Why not ask him when we get there? If anyone knows how to help Castor, it’s him.”

Ryder’s eyes widened slightly before relief replaced his previous frustration. “That’s a great idea.” He nodded, a small smile forming. “Thanks, Eon. You always seem to have the answers when I need them. You’ve kept me together this whole time, and I can’t thank you enough for that. You’re a great friend.”

Eon met his gaze and smiled. “No, thank you, Ryder. I don’t know how or why you ended up here, but I believe it was for a reason. You saved me once already, and now you’ve shown me magic and places I never dreamed of seeing. Without you, I’d probably still be holed up at home, brewing potions or buried in books. You’ve given me a reason to see the world again. I never would’ve done this without you.”

Ryder returned his smile before sitting up and pulling Eon into a firm embrace. “I’m glad we have each other, then. I don’t know what I’d do without you here.”

Eon coughed and sniffled before pulling away, rubbing his face. “Okay, okay. Enough of this sentimental nonsense; we’ve got work to do. We need to get to the Grand Luminary.”

Ryder chuckled, nodding. “Absolutely.”

They left the room, returning to the living room where Erys was still hovering over her brother, adjusting his blanket and tucking him in as if the small gesture could keep him safe.

“Erys,” Eon said gently. She turned to face them, eyes red-rimmed but hopeful. “We will help. When we reach the Grand Luminary, we’ll ask him if he knows how to cure your brother. And once we have answers, we’ll come back.”

Erys straightened, her hands clasping together. “The Grand Luminary?” Her breath hitched. “Oh, Arcaenion’s Light, if anyone can help, it’s him.” A tear slipped down her cheek as she smiled at them, gratitude shining through. “Thank you… thank you both so much. Without you, Castor would have suffered the same fate as my mother. I can never repay you.”

“Happy to help,” Ryder said, offering a warm smile. “And I hope we can do even more once we find out how to bring him back completely.”

Erys turned back to Castor, running a gentle hand through his hair. “You hear that, Cas? The Grand Luminary is going to help us. You’re going to be okay.” She wiped at her eyes and looked back at them. “It’s been a long night. You two should get some rest. My brothers should return with the ship in the morning, and I’ll explain everything to them. I’ll get everything ready for Felrose.”

Ryder and Eon exchanged a glance before nodding.

“Goodnight,” Erys said softly before turning back to Castor, whispering reassurances to him as she held onto his hand.

“Goodnight,” Ryder responded as he and Eon retired for the evening back in the guest room, the weight of the day heavy on their minds.