Wrong Kind of Magic

It had been fifteen days since Rokuro and Kagi first set foot in Emberhold.

Fifteen days since they’d been “the outsiders” — the pair whispered about in the mess lines, eyed with suspicion in the market ring, and politely ignored in the training yards.

They weren’t exactly family now… but the stares had softened. The whispers faded. People waved back when Rokuro waved first — and when Kagi walked by, fewer hands drifted towards the hilts of their weapons.

It was… tolerable. Almost comfortable.

Which was why the silence in the war council hall felt so wrong.

The round table was full, every face of the war council present. Ravuun sat at its head, broad shoulders shadowing the map spread across the wood. Lykos stood at his side, arms folded. Nero lounged near the wall with his dagger, while Selka leaned forward, eyes narrowed at the map’s edges. Yanissa and Basko watched in silence, waiting for the Warden to speak.

Rokuro and Kagi sat at the table too, though the Lock looked anything but comfortable.

“Why are we even here?” He whispered.

“I wonder.” KagI replied.

Ravuun’s voice broke the silence.

“You were called here because Ashvale’s gone dark.”

Kagi’s gaze moved to the map — Ashvale was one of the farthest outposts under Emberhold’s protection. Small. Remote. Fragile.

“Dark, as in… they forgot to write?” Nero asked.

Lykos didn’t smile. “Dark, as in three days without contact. The patrol I sent has been missing for over 2 days. Something is wrong.”

“Trouble that far out?” Basko’s voice was low, almost a growl.

“Crystalor shouldn’t be able to operate outside the barrier,” Selka said sharply. “Unless…”

“Unless they’ve found a way to drive the Aetheralyx back without it…” Nero finished, tossing his dagger into the table point-first.

Yanissa’s eyes darkened. “The forest near Ashvale’s been restless for days. If Crystalor is forcing it back, the spirits there will not be kind to anyone — rebel or otherwise.”

Ravuun’s gaze swept over the group. “We’re sending a team to find out what happened. Lykos will lead. Nero, Selka, you will march too.” His eyes settled on Rokuro and Kagi.

“And so will you, Lock and Key.”

Rokuro blinked. “Us?”

“You want to stay here and polish your gauntlet while others fight?” Basko rumbled.

“Not… really.” Rokuro muttered.

“Good.” Ravuun said with finality, “Then you’ll pull your weight. You’ve shown you can survive a fight here. Now show you can follow orders.”

Lykos’ eyes slid to Rokuro. “Just make sure ‘survive’ doesn’t become ‘slow everyone down.’”

“Hey that ain’t my style,” Rokuro gave him a lopsided smirk, “Just give me a target.”

“Wasn’t that rampaging beast big enough a target for ya?” Nero snickered.

“Oi!” Rokuro growled back.

Ravuun’s hand came down on the table, rattling the map weights. “You won’t go alone. A detachment from Trunkhold will march with you—ten of our best. Ashvale may be small, but if Crystalor has crossed its walls, you’ll need more than aether and luck.”

A few nods circled the table. The decision was final.

“You leave within the hour.”

╒ 🗝 ╛

By the time Rokuro and Kagi reached their tent in Rootward, the sun had fully risen in the sky.

Kagi was already rolling up their bedrolls with practiced efficiency. Rokuro dug through his pack for anything they might need — which, in his case, meant shoving in anything he saw.

“Don’t forget the rations,” Kagi said without looking up.

“As if I can forget.” Rokuro tossed the Keybox up in the air, “Courtesy of Portalia.”

A quick knock on the tent pole made them both glance up.

Sana stood there, hands behind her back, bouncing lightly on her heels.

“So… you’re leaving?” she asked.

Rokuro looked up.

“Only for a while. We’ll be back soon though.”

“You better!” Sana grinned, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes — the kind of shadow you only caught if you were looking for it. “’Cause I was gonna teach you how to actually win at dice.”

“Oh, so now you admit you’ve been cheating!”

“It’s called ‘strategy,’” Sana smirked.

Rokuro scoffed, resting his hand on her head as he stepped past. “Try not to give grandma a headache.”

“I’ll try...”

Kagi paused beside her, softer in tone than usual. “We’ll see you soon.”

Sana nodded quickly — maybe too quickly — and gave a little wave before ducking back between the tents.

By the time they reached the Ironwood gates, the rest of their company was already gathered. A grim dozen in patched leathers and mail, weapons strapped tight, faces drawn and serious. None greeted Rokuro or Kagi with words, but a few gave curt nods.

Rokuro muttered under his breath, “Great. New friends.”

Kagi simply shook her head dismissively.

The path to the forest stretched ahead.

“Ready?” Kagi asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

╒ 🗝 ╛

The Ironwood had swallowed them whole.

Roots the size of wagons curled through the soil like coiled steel, shadows stretching long between their twisted trunks. The rebels moved in a loose column, boots crunching on moss and stone, weapons at the ready.

High above, a shadow swept across the sun—broad wings flashing silver as Ava wheeled overhead, Nero astride her back like a watchful banner.

“Show-off,” Rokuro muttered.

“You’re just jealous you can’t fly,” Kagi said without looking.

“I could if someone gave me a ride.”

“You’d fall off in the first thirty seconds.” Selka snickered.

“Last time I lasted a whole minute.”

From ahead, Lykos’ voice carried back through the trees. “Eyes forward. We’re close to Ashvale’s outer grounds. Forest gets unpredictable here.”

Above, Ava dipped low, her cry rolling heavy through the trees. Then—

A sudden gust. Her wings folded, and the great beast dropped into a dive, landing in the clearing ahead.

Everyone froze on instinct.

Nero swung down, boots crunching against the leaves. He ran a hand along Ava’s flank, eyes narrowing.

“She’s not going further.”

Kagi’s brow tightened. “Not going…?”

Nero shook his head. “Something’s ahead she doesn’t like. And Ava doesn’t spook easy.”

Lykos stepped forward, “What is it?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t get a good look at Ashvale. Apart from the lack of life it looked normal, but… the sensation, it’s almost like it’s burning her.”

Rokuro frowned. “Burns? What, like fire?”

“Not fire,” Kagi murmured, gaze fixed toward the unseen horizon.

There was a pause as eyes turned towards her.

“Magic. But not from this world.”

“Not from this—“ Rokuro shook his head, “How can you be so sure?”

“Yeah I can feel something weird too…” Selka, who was the most accustomed to Aether waves since birth, frowned, “Which means…”

“…Crystalor’s really got something they shouldn’t…” Nero finished, his usual grin nowhere in sight.

The air between them went still. Even the wind seemed to hesitate, carrying only the faint groan of the Ironwood above.

Lykos’ voice tightened even more, “We move on foot from here.”

Rokuro cracked his knuckles. “Fine by me. But when we find what’s making Ava act like that…”

Kagi’s eyes met his. “We destroy it.”

╒ 🗝 ╛

The Ironwood thinned around them, the steel-blue canopy breaking apart into ragged patches of sky. The air felt different here—dryer, heavier—and the sounds of the forest faded until only the crunch of their boots remained.

Then the trees simply… ended.

They stepped out into a wide, barren expanse where the soil was pale and cracked, scattered with the blackened stumps of iron trees long dead. Ashvale lay ahead, a cluster of low stone buildings crouched in the clearing’s center. But there was no smoke from cookfires, no movement in the streets—only figures in Crystalor armor pacing the perimeter.

Dozens of them.

And in the middle of it all, towering above roofs and soldiers alike, stood a shape that didn’t belong to this world.

“What in the blue hell is… that?” Rokuro pointed a finger.

It was a golem—if the word even fit something like that. Its body was a patchwork of black metal and faintly glowing seams. At its core, embedded in its chest like a heartbeat, pulsed a jagged shard that radiated an alien, oppressive light.

Even from this distance, Rokuro felt it—a pressure like invisible hands pressing down on his shoulders. It was the same suffocating presence he’d felt… back on Earth, when Draven’s monster soldiers had turned their eyes on him.

So that was what Kagi meant when she said the magic was not from this world…

Kagi’s grip on her keyblade tightened, eyes locking on the shard in its chest. “…That magic is almost like mine… but wrong.”

“Yeah, the frequency in the air feels similar but—” Selka nodded. Her gaze then narrowed, “Wait—look there!” She pointed past the ring of soldiers, to the gaps between the buildings.

They followed her gesture. Shapes staggered in and out of the shadows—villagers. Thin, bent-backed, their faces pale and hollow. Men, women, even children, shackled with crude chains and dragging carts piled with debris and ore. One collapsed, too weak to rise. A soldier jabbed him with the butt of a spear until he stumbled forward again.

Even the soldiers looked strained, sweat running down their grim faces.

Rokuro’s jaw tightened, heat burning behind his teeth. “They’re… using them as slaves.”

Kagi’s voice was quiet, cutting through the tension.

“…That shard in its chest. It’s not just decoration. It’s the heart. That’s what’s powering it. And it appears to be feeding off everyone around it.”

Selka winced, rubbing the corner of her eye.

“Ah, the magic coming off it… it’s so sharp it makes the back of my eyes sting.”

Nero’s smirk was long gone. He glanced skyward, jaw tight. “Then no wonder Ava won’t come closer. That thing’s keeping her and Lami back… maybe all the Aetheralyx.”

As they watched, the golem’s head turned.

Its gaze locked on them.

They were far—too far for normal sight—but in that moment it was as if the thing knew they were there.

The company behind them stiffened. A few of the younger rebels swore under their breath, while the veterans’ grips tightened on spear and bow.

Nero clicked his tongue. “…And the bastard is already watching us.”

“It can see us? All the way from there?!” Selka gawked, “Oh, boy.”

Lykos’ jaw clenched, spear lowering into his grip. “Stay sharp. This won’t be like fighting men.”

Rokuro flexed his fingers inside the gauntlet, the crushing weight on his chest hardening into resolve.