The Return: Reunion is such bitter misery

My mornings had become fire drills, literally. Afternoons were chalk circles, thousands of crooked failures until I managed one that almost didn’t collapse. Can you believe I just had to hold both chalks at the same time?

Nights were push-ups until my arms shook. Then straight into a lesson about rune weaving, using metaphors of course.

And still he said, “Not enough.”

So yeah. Days blurred together.

The Bronze Ring was never quiet, but today it sounded like someone had set the barracks on fire and then poured free wine over the ashes.
People were shouting, laughing, craning their necks toward the north gate.

Thomlin stopped mid-lecture on “rune density’s harmonics with tendon flow.” He squinted toward the noise.

“Stay put,” he said.

Tsk, like that was gonna happen.

By the time I got to the gate, it was packed, people were crowded cheering, pointing toward figures arriving. I tried to find Thomlin amongst the crowd but he had disappeared. 

Two massive beasts pushed through, each with curved, dark-red horns plastered over nose and brow. Their hooves hit the stone like falling anvils. One beast carried three riders, the other two.

One figure jumped from the saddle before the beast even stopped, landing in a crouch and sprinting toward me. I didn’t recognize her at first, not with the sun catching her white hair —until she slammed into me, crushing me in a hug that stole air from my lungs.

“Lira?”

“Yeah, you idiot.” Her voice muffled as she spoke into my shoulder, then she pulled back and punched me in the arm. “You had to take your sweet time recovering didn’t you?”

I wheezed. “Good to see you too.”

Her face was red, probably from the run but her grin was unmistakable. She flicked her hair back and opened her palms,

“Here. Thought you might need this.”

And in her hands —like some holy relic descending from the heavens—was my Mourner’s Pack. My beautiful, wonderful pack.

I snatched it and buried my face in the leather, taking in its smell, like a deranged addict. Not my finest moment, but listen—we’d been separated three whole months. Before I could weep tears of joy into its straps, another figure wrapped me in a hug.

“I’m so glad you recovered,” Verra said softly. “We were so worried,”

I squeezed her back. “Thanks to you. All of you.”

Then two more figures stepped down from the beasts, but neither came to greet me. One of them I recognized, Kryxx, his obsidian staff floating beside him like it had a mind of its own. The other rider made me blink — I knew that face, but couldn’t place it. His aura prickled against my skin, all wrong, like a string plucked out of tune. Both didn’t say much of anything, they just herded the beasts aside.

The last person, I wouldn’t forget no matter what.

It was Keiji.

His hair had grown longer, the ends a vivid mix of orange and red, as if they had been dipped in flame. He looked taller and broader, the wiry boy I remembered seemed like a distant memory. 

He walked slowly, his gaze fixed on the ground, until he stood only a few feet away. For a second, he didn’t say anything.

Then he looked up.

“Ash.”

Just my name. Simple. But his voice carried something heavier — a weight I couldn’t place. His eyes weren’t the same, either. I couldn’t explain it. What happened in those 61 days?

The moment passed too quickly.

Before I could say anything — anything at all — Kryxx gestured sharply toward the Bronze Ring’s inner gate.

“Where are you going?” I called., stumbling forward.

“We’re meeting Master Jacques for a mission report,” Verra said over her shoulder. “It shouldn’t take long.”

Lira walking just behind her, caught my eye. She forced a grin, one I knew instantly wasn’t real.

“We’ll come back later.”

It was evening by the time the knock came. Only Lira and Verra came.

Apparently, Keiji left with Kryxx and that dark figure they called Draken. That name jogged something in my memory. He was the Shadow Mage I saw in the Church that one time we were summoned a while back.

Thomlin hadn’t returned all day, which for once was a blessing. I could sleep in for once but it also gave me the chance to sit with Lira and Verra and catch up.

Verra sat on the edge of my bed while Lira paced the cramped room, talking with her hands.

A lot had happened, since the Guardian fight. Verra was committed to the Guild’s ward, while Lira spent a week in the Restoration, fixing her vocal chords. Keiji, meanwhile had thrown himself into training with Master Jacques and eventually, got a tutelage under Kryxx, who had taken him as an apprentice even though Keiji was not a Mage.

Basically what Thomlin did for me, except I doubt Keiji wakes up dodging fireballs every morning. You would think I would learn to just wake up early by now.

And though it felt like it was a chance for everyone to grow, deal with the aftermath of it all, it didn’t last. Because two weeks later, more pre-merge dungeons started propping up. but these ones unlike the one we were in, fully merged. Countless of them and because they were merged, the beasts were evolved hence more powerful.

Mages from all three Orders were sent to deal with them. None came back.

Next, they sent Warriors with Mages. And they fell too.

Lira’s voice lowered when she said that. The whole Kingdom had gone quiet then, she told me. The Guild had become overwhelmed as corpses increased. And without yours truly to help bury them, they were burned. Of course, this was before Mazze started ruling with an iron fist and the thralls increased in huge numbers.

But eventually something had to be done and after weeks of shouting matches between the Church, the Silver Ring and the Palace, someone finally had an idea. Not just anyone — Lucien himself.

He suggested forming two strike forces. Not random teams, but handpicked units made to survive anything. Mages, warriors, rogues, mercenaries —whatever it took.

The first was led by Captain Velma of the Golden Circle, a palace guard so dangerous she could weave four runes at once. Four. And her hand-to-hand skill? Apparently better than Master Jacques himself. Her entire claim to fame was that she was the best fighter in the Kingdom.

The second group was spearheaded by Keiji, fresh off his Guardian defeat victory. Kryxx and his entire Order threw in behind him, unsurprisingly. The surprise was Draken, notorious was working alone also joined Keiji’s group. As a sentiment, Keiji was allowed to pick two more people and he picked the two obvious choices. if Dorran and I were there, it probably would have been difficult to choose. Come on, I had to be a shoe-in for sure.

What followed was two straight months of blood and sweat. Dungeon after dungeon, battle after battle. They faced horrors with no weaknesses, no records, no history to lean on. Every fight had to be learned the hard way — with scars.

And somehow, they won. And i ended up collecting corpses during my thrallship. A full circle.

When Lira finished, the room was silent. It was strange, sitting there hearing about a war that had happened while I was having conversations with the dead. It was heavy to take in and from the look on their faces, it weighed on them two.

And that’s when it hit me.

“Where’s Dorran?” I asked.

Verra froze and stared downward. Lira’s pacing stopped clenching her fists.

“Ash…” Verra whispered.

Something in my chest sank. “What?”

Lira’s face was a mask, but her voice cracked. “Come with us.”

The streets were quiet that night, a drastic difference from earlier that morning. We stepped outside, walking further and further from the barracks until we reached our destination.

The graveyard

We passed by the graves, most of which I had dug myself but there were also fresh ones, clustered together. Beyond them on top of a small hill, was a small headstone in its lonesome. It was only when I read the name carved on it that I realized why we were here.

Dorran.

For a moment, I didn’t breathe. Couldn’t. My mind went blank and I think my left ear started to bleed because I could hear any sound from it. Just a sharp pitch noise that hollowed in my chest. My eyes blurred, filling up with wetness, I couldn’t see properly. Was I crying? 

Verra sank to her knees in front of the stone. Her hands trembled as she touched it.

“He didn’t make it,” her voice broke like a glass dropped on stone. “I…I tried, Ash. I swear I tried. I burned through everything I had but, the wounds were too much…”

Lira knelt beside her, pulling her into a hug. “You did everything you could.”

“We were with him until the end,” Lira said softly. “He fought…so hard.”

I moved to speak but no sound came out. 

Staring at the moonless night, for the first time, I had nothing clever left to say.