To End a Lie

Swords clashing.

The taste of iron in my mouth.

Skies painted crimson, castles made of glass.

Humans turned pale from the miracle of magic.

A flooded, forgotten yet alive, city.

A forest made of steel, its leaves a mass of blades.

Huge winged creatures, soaring through the clouds, like gigantic airships, ready to devour yet another civilisation.

People, creatures from all walks of life. Friends and foes. Heroes and villains alike.

And finally, an ornate lock. A gate, and a key.

A beautiful young girl, smiling. Tears staining her painted, flushed cheeks. A pair of different coloured eyes. A face so delicate. A gaze so strong.

Kagi.

She reaches out a hand, the humming turning to words.

“…The future will surely not abandon you…

If you hold onto the fragments of hope…”

A song so vibrant, so alive, I could almost reach out and grab the outline of the melodies suspended across the void.

“The voice of light,

is calling out,

And the memories

We lost—“

Her voice carried across the void, soft and endless—

Until the vision shattered.

The glass city is wreathed in the fires of war, glass spires weeping light as shadows clashed beneath them.

A masked figure stood against the storm, cloak tearing, hand outstretched to a gate of shimmering void.

Through it bled other worlds—

A city drowned in sapphire depths, towers swaying as if they still breathed beneath the waves.

A kingdom of clouds, where winged silhouettes traced arcs across endless sky.

And a land of blooming verdancy, flowers unfurling like galaxies, the whole world pulsing as though it were alive.

The flow of time, like sand in an hourglass overturned, spins once more. The gears of fate grind forward.

The adventure is already in motion…

But why does it feel like I’ve seen this all countless times before?

╒ 🗝 ╛

Rokuro jumped awake, his heart pounding against his chest. It was a dream…

But that dream felt oddly familiar. He had seen it more than a few times already. Yet every time he did… more details emerged.

“Agh…” he groaned, rubbing his eyes. Kagi was already up, looking at him like he had grown a second head. It was early in the morning of the siege.

“What?” Rokuro grumbled.

“Normal people say good morning.” She grinned teasingly, “Then again normal isn’t—“

“Kagi.” His voice cut her off, “Were you singing?”

Kagi raised a brow.

“Huh?”

“I had a weird dream… it was like I could see the future…” Rokuro went on, “And it’s not the first time I’ve seen it either.”

Those words seemed to freeze Kagi on the spot. She looked away promptly, not saying anything.

Rokuro caught on, prodding her, “Kagi?”

“I’ve had… the same dream, is all.” She said reluctantly.

“Really?” Rokuro mused. The hell could it all mean then?

“Man this is all too weird…” Rokuro ruffled his messy untied hair. Kagi remained quiet, all of a sudden losing her snark. It was as if she was hiding something she couldn’t spell out.

“And now you’re acting weird too.” Rokuro pointed out, “Then again ever since we met, you were weird.”

“Excuse me?” Kagi turned looking offended, brow raised.

“I mean you outright kissed me when we first met! You never even explained what that was about!”

Kagi froze. Then a grin split her face.

“What if I told you that this wasn’t the only time I kissed you?”

Rokuro’s face went red, as he covered his mouth, “H-Huh?! Did you kiss me in my sleep, you psycho?!”

“N-No!” Kagi’s cheeks tinted red as she hissed, “Stop shouting, idiot!”

So much for a peaceful morning before the siege.

╒ 🗝 ╛

The sky over Emberhold was still pale, dawn only just brushing the canopy with light. Yet the atmosphere was alive. Every rebel had gathered—armor strapped, weapons polished, banners unfurled. The murmur of voices carried through the air, low but steady, like the rumble of a storm about to break.

Rokuro caught sight of one of the banners snapping in the wind.

Brown cloth, streaked burgundy, with a sharp silver tree stamped across it. The branches looked more like blades than leaves.

He let out a low whistle. “So that’s the Emberhold flag, huh.”

Kagi glanced at it, “Fitting. Mean, but it gets the point across.”

Rokuro smirked. “Heh. Guess I like it then.”

Rokuro stood with Kagi, Selka, Nero, and Lykos near the front.

“You finally showed up,” Selka muttered, nudging Nero in the ribs. “I was looking for you all day yesterday.”

Nero groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Spare me, Selka. I had… things to deal with.”

“Oh? Brooding counts as ‘things’ now?” she teased with a sly grin, “Speaking of which… that talk with Ravuun didn’t go well, I reckon?”

“Zip it, Selka.” Nero glared.

“Yikes. Guess that’s a yes.”

Lykos cut in before the bickering could escalate. He turned to Rokuro and Kagi, his expression steady, calm. “You two. Ready?”

Rokuro smirked faintly. “Born ready.”

Kagi crossed her arms, gaze steady. “Always.”

For a moment, the group stood together in silence, sharing the weight of what lay ahead. Different people, different pasts, all about to march as one.

A heavy tread broke the air. Ravuun strode to the center of the gathering, his cloak billowing, his presence commanding silence without a word. Every rebel straightened.

His voice thundered.

“Our forefathers raised Emberhold from roots and ash. They fought, bled, and died so that one day the lie of Crystalor would end.”

He raised his axe to the sky.

“That day is today.”

The crowd roared, weapons lifted high.

“The beacon of glass that blinds the world will shatter! The false goddess, the false throne, the false relic—today we bring them all down!”

Another cheer, louder, echoing across the treetops.

Ravuun’s gaze swept the crowd, hard as steel, yet burning with pride. His voice rose one final time, shaking Crownrest.

“Emberhold! Today we march to war. And we will not return until the beacon falls or the last rebel touches the ground!”

The roar that followed was deafening. Voices rose, spears struck against shields, and the fire of rebellion burned brighter than ever before.

Rokuro felt it—the spark in his chest igniting to flame. He looked at his companions, each of them standing taller, stronger.

For a moment he needn’t think about his family. Fixing his past mistakes. He simply wanted to fight for these people. For this place. Emberhold didn’t feel like someone else’s war anymore. It felt like his own too.

But as the cheering thundered around him, another face surfaced in his mind.

Sana, pale beneath the sheets, when he went to see her before the march.

He had crouched beside her, jaw set tight.

“…I’ll come back. And when I do, you’ll be up and running again. That’s a promise.”

Sana smiled weakly, eyes sparkling just for a moment.

“You… promise?”

The memory burned hotter than the roar of the crowd. Rokuro clenched his gauntlet hand, sparks rippling faintly.

He wasn’t just marching for Emberhold. He was marching for her.

You’re the only one who can make sure nobody has to go through that again.

And no matter what it took—

He would keep that promise.