Legends and Spicy Drinks

Yanissa’s gaze dropped to the fire, and for a heartbeat the sparks looked like stars.

“There was once a relic,” she began, “born not of men, but of the Aetheralyx. A gift of harmony. A beacon that bound the forest and the sky. In its glow, corruption could not take root. In its hum, the titans found rest.”

Her voice deepened, and the words began to twist into something older, heavier.

“But men coveted what was not theirs.”

The fire seemed to flare, shadows stretching along the Bellbark’s roots. In that moment it was no longer Emberhold—it was more than a hundred years ago, a king cloaked in blue standing beneath the stars.

He stole the relic.

He carried it into his halls.

Yanissa’s tone shifted, harsher now.

“There was a sorceress then. Luminastra. Her name has been carved into worship, but her deeds were poison. With her hand, the relic was corrupted. Its harmony twisted into a cage. Its glow made bitter, its hum made false.”

A vision of glass rose in the fire’s smoke—spires piercing the sky, walls gleaming like crystalized lies.

“She called herself a goddess. She wrapped a stolen relic in lies and crowned her king with glass. From the relic’s power flowed the barrier. From its corruption, the crystals that plague our land were born. And from that day, the people of Crystalor have lived behind a fraud—believing their light came from heaven, when it came from theft.”

Yanissa’s beads clicked again, and with the sound, Emberhold returned. For a second Rokuro felt like he saw a vision of the whole thing before his eyes. But soon enough he was back at the Rootfire Gathering.

Kagi tilted her head, voice calm but sharp.

“How did the story even carry to this day? If the kings buried it… how did the rebellion even start?”

Yanissa spoke once more.

“The forest remembers. The Aetheralyx do not forget. Their echoes passed to seers, who gave voice to what others could not hear. And those voices became roots. They grew into Emberhold. We are their only ally in tearing down the lie Crystalor built.”

Rokuro frowned.

“So the crystals they use in Crystalor… they’re just corrupted magical scraps?”

Selka snorted, stabbing a finger at the table.

“Exactly. What they worship is basically toxic waste. They forged it into weapons and walls, then convinced everyone it was a blessing. No wonder the forest hates it.”

Rokuro leaned back, jaw tightening.

“So basically…” he muttered. “They stole from the Celestial titans, turned their gift into a scam, painted the titans as monsters… and everyone’s just nodding along like sheep?”

Nero gave a dry chuckle, twirling his dagger.

“Dress it up in glass, call it divine, and people will line up to kiss it. Been working for the kings a hundred years, hasn’t it?”

“I have seen it myself.” Lykos spoke, arms crossed and voice low, “Was a believer myself too. But this isn’t faith… it’s brainwashing and corrupting humanity.”

“Huh…” Rokuro nodded, “So we just go there, smash it and liberate the world?”

Nero chuckled, “Yeah make it sound easier, why don’t you?”

Lykos gazed resolutely, “We’re not just marching on a city. We’re marching on a lie.”

Yanissa’s eyes gleamed faintly in the firelight. “Yes. And lies cling hardest when they are worshipped.”

The fire crackled. The cheer from before ebbed into silence.

Bootsteps broke it—measured, heavy. Rebels straightened in their seats as Ravuun stepped into the firelight, his shadow stretching long across the table.

He stopped at the head, arms folded, gaze sweeping the gathering like a weight pressing on every chest.

“You speak truth, seer,” Ravuun rumbled. “But truth alone doesn’t win battles. Steel and will do.”

“Indeed, Warden.” Yanissa nodded her head respectfully.

Then Ravuun’s eyes found Rokuro.

“Tomorrow, Lock, we’ll see if you are more than just a bedtime story.”

Despite his rebellious nature, Rokuro decided against biting back. Instead, he spoke resolutely.

“I’ll be ready.”

The Warden lifted a mug from the table, raising it high. His voice boomed across Crownrest.

“Eat. Drink. Laugh while you can! Tomorrow, we march. Tomorrow, we bleed as one!”

A roar answered him. Mugs clashed, rebels cheered, and the firelight blazed brighter.

Ravuun drank deep, then set the mug down, his tone dropping again.

“Nero. With me.”

The cheer didn’t reach their corner. Nero’s grin faltered.

“…Now?”

Ravuun didn’t repeat himself. He simply turned, striding into the shadows towards the shadow of the Bellbark.

Nero sighed, dragging himself up with a roll of his shoulders. “Tch. Fine.” He muttered, “Way to ruin the mood, old man.”

The two disappeared into the dark, the noise of the gathering rising again behind them.

“Roku, Roku!” Sana bounced around the table, her stomach apparently full from the feast.

“What now?” Rokuro hung his head, exasperated.

“The stalls! The music! The dancing! You have to come with me!”

“I don’t have to do anything,” Rokuro muttered, but Sana had already latched onto his sleeve.

Kagi stood, arms crossed. “I don’t think you have any choice in the matter.”

“Do I ever…?” Rokuro grumbled, letting Sana drag him along.

Kagi followed closely behind as well.

“Are you coming?” She turned to Selka, who watched them with a grin.

“Nah, I’m perfectly fine over here.” She replied, winking cheekily, “Besides now’s your chance!”

“What chance?!” Kagi hissed angrily at her, dropping her voice.

Before getting a reply, she turned around, deciding to ignore her completely.

They returned to the Bellbark, where the celebration was already in full swing. Lanterns swayed, music pulsed, and rebels crowded the stalls and dance circle, voices rising over the beat of the drums.

“Here.” Rokuro shoved a cup in Kagi’s hands, while he and Sana were already clutching theirs.

“What’s… this?” She looked at it funny. It was a steaming hot liquid, with swirling violets and greens within it.

“Local rootbrew! The best there is!” The stall owner smirked proudly.

“It’s the best when you’ve got headaches!” Sana added.

“What is this, some kind of over-the-counter painkiller?!” Rokuro deadpanned.

Instead of adding a comment, Kagi simply downed it in one go.

Rokuro was horrified while Sana…

“Wow! Amazing!”

Enjoyed herself, clapping her hands.

When Kagi finished she exhaled and everyone leaned in, waiting for her reaction.

“Actually it’s not so bad.”

“Hm.” The stall owner flashed a triumphant grin.

“Really?” Rokuro raised a brow and tried it himself.

A bomb of taste exploded in his mouth. It was spicy. Very spicy!

“Haaaaa!” Rokuro sucked in oxygen for dear life, “You trynna kill me, oi?!”

Kagi smirked, wiping a tear from her eye. Yeah, it really was spicy for her too. She just wanted to mess with him.

Meanwhile Sana was rolling on the floor laughing.

The music carried on around them, the night still young.