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“What’s on your mind?” Sterling asked. “You’ve been in a wonderful mood since you returned from your little expedition last night. One of many, may I remind you, that I permitted, getting you out of assisting with stocking the city with all those supplies you’ve accumulated.”

Jarek glanced behind him to Sterling’s tangy happiness. “Every time I go, it gets worse and worse.”

“I know,” Sterling said, coming to Jarek’s side. “I could’ve told you that without you having to visit.”

“I needed to see it for myself.” It’s one thing to hear about, and another to witness. It felt like his responsibility to bear, knowing this was what he inevitably helped create. “That wretched metal is everywhere! It’s completely taken over the city. They use it day in and day out. Gods, they even worship it.” Long gone are the days of Failen’s people offering prayers and tithings to the Everlasting Root or Erebria, given in the energy of its blessings to its soil. Now that respect has shifted to ghostsoil, and it was paid for in lives. He groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face. “How often are those unions successful?”

“Direct injections with the sand?” Maude hummed and craned her neck to the sky. “It’s impossible to say, but I’ve heard it’s taken before. Were you able to visit the Fountain Square?”

“No. It’s too close to Ironfall,” Jarek said.

“Supposedly, there’s a statue there that represents such a bond. No one outside of Failen knows for sure.” She looked back, eyes drifting in Markoth’s direction. “The fused that come out of Reave are more obvious.”

Specters, Jarek thought. That’s what Lilith called them. “How?”

“It’s slower and more disfiguring to the body, but successful every time,” Sterling said, tapping a finger on his crossed arms. “Failen prioritizes fusions with the raw sediment while Reave uses the refined material. Something about the process from sand to metal changes the effect it has on organic tissue. Although it’s unknown if the specters intelligence in Failen is as wasted as those in Reave. I don’t think so, since it appears they’re more respected.”

“And all of the ceremonies in the city are reserved for angelic souls?” Jarek asked.

“We think it’s to honor the relationship between the Hazevales and the Guardian, but who’s to say? Your family’s history has been a bit of a mystery until recently.” She lowered her voice a little softer. “I don’t think it’s been like this the entire time.”

Jarek pressed a finger to his temple. However long, it’d been long enough.

“You’re looking a little dark. Do you need to sit under a cloud?” Sterling teased.

Jarek pushed Sterling aside without thinking twice. A year ago, he would have. Even still, he worried it would seem like an act of aggression, but Sterling did what he always did—chuckle and punch him back.

Jarek smiled. “Distract me then.”

“Let’s see…” Sterling twisted his lips. “Most everything looks good in Markoth. Our people are holding steady despite the interference from General Whart.”

The man Brialis sent to occupy Markoth during the raids. He was a Guardian blessed Escardian, gifted with its soul handling ability. Supposedly he was as ancient as Brialis, possibly even predating her, but Jarek didn’t recognize his name.

“The tunnels to the city have extended under the southern orchards,” Maude said. “And they’re manned. We dropped off supplies to whomever we’ve got on the inside today…”

“But?” Jarek prodded.

“The news of Mia’s rescue has worn off. Spirits are low among Marsh—er, Mia’s people,” she answered. “Can’t say I blame them. All promises of salvation from the southern Flares, and neither of them have shown.”

“They’re going to have to take our word. We’ve snuck enough of our men in.” A jesting grin crossed Sterling’s lips behind Maude’s back. “What about Lils? It’d do wonders to get her in there to rally them. You know, re-lift their fallen spirits.”

She scoffed. “I don’t imagine Markoth’s people would care to hear the Wraith built and sold weapons like the ones keeping them in line.”

“Ah, but you’re forgetting something, little Tomon: only Mia knows that. Reatia and all who are associated with them, including Markoth, think she’s a fully realized Wraith. That all of this was done for Amalia with clear intention and purpose. And while it was messy at first, this has been a blessing in disguise. Lils will play her part when the time comes, and if it’s insincere?” Sterling shrugged. “So be it. So long as she stops causing trouble.”

Except she’s nowhere near the status of a fully realized Wraith, Jarek thought. Sending an untrained Lilith to a Reatian occupied town made him uneasy, even if her presence alone inspired action. She wasn’t ready for that, nor was she ready to take care of the specters, a decision Jarek vehemently disagreed with in silence.

It wasn’t his place to question Kyer. He only worked for him, but he’d rather hide Lilith away in Tyrsia with Amalia and Minerva until she was ready. Give her time to mature while he set the stage for the Wraith’s return.

As they crossed the depths of the woods, Jarek picked up on the chatter of Kyer’s men right where he left them. The rugged camp felt something like a home. Draven was used to plush beds, but Jarek was coming to appreciate his small tent near the edge of the camp. It was nice returning after the four-day excursion, knowing he’d get to sleep in his cot tonight.

Except something was off, though he couldn’t place it.

When they stepped into the clearing with the lodge, Kyer looked up from behind two Terin men near the front of the building. He bid them on their way, and after exchanging pleasantries, Jarek slipped inside to the kitchen, snagging a helping of venison and roasted carrots while Mia was elsewhere. He fell into his chair, listening to Maude and Sterling fill Kyer in on their last few days.

Jarek’s attention inevitably slipped back to Lilith, as it seemed to do lately. Was truly coming into her power possible for her? Imordials needed emotional, spiritual, and physical strength to handle their gods, and Lilith was too… fragile. Empathetic. It made her weak.

Jarek pictured the cloud of anger she emitted when she nearly throttled him after he messed with her dreams. She did have a ferocious nature that showed itself every so often, but she was oddly callous regarding the state of Eizreth and its people.