Kyren followed Runa outside, Arvalen padding behind them. Lydel was already on the porch, breathing heavily.
"Good luck," was all he said before flopping onto his back.
That peace didn't last.
Arvalen pounced, claws retracted but teeth tugging at Lydel's shirt and hair.
"Hey—HEY! I'm not a chew toy!"
Runa ignored the chaos, forming two grass blades shaped like Kyren's wakizashi. One floated into her hand. The other drifted toward Kyren.
"First, we go over the basics," Runa said. She took a stance. "Mirror me."
Kyren copied her posture. She demonstrated three slashes—precise, deliberate.
"One hundred of each. Then one hundred stepping in," she instructed, eyes sharp on his form. "Tighten your core. Straighten your shoulders."
Kyren grit his teeth and obeyed. Every swing stung his arms, muscles burning in ways he hadn't trained before. He powered through the first three hundred, collapsing to the ground to catch his breath.
"Short break," Runa said, "Then moving swings."
Kyren shook out his arms. "Let's get started. I don't need to sit for this long."
Runa smirked. "That's what I like to hear. We'll go faster this time."
She demonstrated the forward-stepping strikes—three swift movements. Kyren repeated them until she nodded in approval.
"Now give me one hundred of each."
He groaned but obeyed. Each swing cut sharper, cleaner. His feet moved with purpose, the blade singing through the air.
By the time he finished, he was drenched in sweat—but he felt it: the muscle memory forming, the rhythm settling in.
"Good. Another short break," Runa said, patting his shoulder.
Kyren's face flushed. He looked away quickly. "I'm feeling good… Let's go now."
"You sure? No powers. Only blades."
"Deal."
They stepped apart and took stances.
"Ready… set… GO!" Lydel shouted.
The two exploded forward, blades flashing. No magic, no tricks—just raw technique. Kyren's strikes were fast, but Runa blocked them effortlessly, countering with fierce precision. A clash, a pivot, a feint—Kyren went low for her leg. She deflected with a downward strike.
Conk.
The wooden blade thudded against his head.
"Owww," Kyren muttered, holding the spot.
"Good attack," Runa said. "But you left yourself wide open. We'll continue in the morning. For now, it's time to move toward Zybana."
She absorbed the grass blades. Kyren stood, calling Veldthar mentally. The eland came sprinting over the horizon.
"I didn't know he was that fast," Runa said.
"Yeah, my boy's got speed," Kyren grinned, patting his side.
They packed and hit the road—just 45 miles to Zybana, with three days left until the eclipse.
"Let's try to make twenty miles today," Kyren said.
Lydel groaned. "Sure, but why?"
"We need time to scout the area before the eclipse."
"I agree," Runa added. "And I'll be the one doing the scouting, since you two are wanted men."
She chuckled, but her eyes were serious.
"Let's go."
They walked. After just an hour—ten miles in—Kyren's legs ached from the morning training. He refused to complain, but Lydel came to the rescue.
"Alright, guys, I need to use the bathroom. Let's find a spot to rest."
"Okay," Runa said. "We'll stop when we find a good spot."
The grass began to change—shorter, greener. Wildflowers dotted the landscape. Not quite the vibrant plains from Grandma Windy's journal, but familiar enough.
Eventually, they came upon a small stream.
Lydel sprinted toward the bushes.
Kyren sat in the stream, letting the water ease the tension in his legs. Runa removed her cloak and shoes, settling beside him.
"Stretch your legs like this," she said, demonstrating.
Kyren didn't hear her. He was too lost in watching her.
"Umm—you said stretch, right?" he stammered, quickly mimicking her movements.
"Yes. We need to stay loose. A fight's coming."
Lydel returned a few minutes later, looking refreshed. "Man, I feel so much better. Let's go."
"I'm glad I stuck with this cutie pie," Liora said, suddenly appearing and hugging the back of Arvalen.
Arvalen looked seconds from collapsing, so Kyren sent him to the Wayfinder's Realm for rest.
"I'll go keep the baby company," Liora added before vanishing into the realm as well.
They resumed their journey. Slower, but steady. After another few hours, they had surpassed the 20-mile goal. Just 20 left to go.
That's when Lydel pointed out a village off the path—about 20 buildings, bigger than any since Zafeer.
He raised his binoculars.
"Bad news," Lydel said grimly. "Only Runa can go in."
"What? Why?" Kyren asked.
"Every single person I can see is a cultist."
Runa shrugged. "Then you'll have to sneak around. I'll go in, get supplies."
She pulled out the gold pouch they got in Zafeer.
"Spend my hard-earned money wisely!" Lydel called after her.
Kyren sighed, sending Veldthar to the realm. He and Lydel crouched and began to move through the grass.
The pair moved slowly through the tall grass, crouched low to avoid detection. Every ten to fifteen steps, Lydel would pop his head above the blades, scanning the horizon—checking the village's position, watching for movement.
"Twenty steps forward," Lydel said mentally, ducking back down. "Then a slight turn to the left. Twenty more after that."
Kyren nodded, adjusting his stance. "Like this? Too far?"
"Perfect. Keep going."
They pressed forward, inching their way around the village's perimeter like ghosts in the grass.
Meanwhile, Runa entered the village.
The first thing she saw was a small general store near the edge of the town. No signs. Just a building that looked… normal. Too normal.
She stepped inside.
A tall man—lean, grizzled, and weathered by time—stood behind the counter. He didn't wear robes. Just a shirt, pants, and a hard stare.
"You're not wearing the damn robes," he grunted. "You ain't one of them?"
"No. Just passing through," Runa replied coolly.
He gave her a long look. "Name's Snider. I'm the only other one in this dump not drinking their holy water."
"Were there others like you?"
"There were. They got taken to Zybana. Something about the eclipse. Said I was 'too stubborn to be blessed.'"
Runa's eyes narrowed. "Me and my friends are heading to Zybana. Planning to see the eclipse ourselves."
Snider's brows lifted. "Friends?" he asked, then chuckled. "Hope they're good at hiding. Church leaders'll be there. Their personal freaks, too."
"We'll be fine," Runa said, already scanning the shelves. "Just need some food. Supplies."
Snider leaned in. "They're heading out tomorrow. The cult members. Marching to Zybana. If you had some robes, you might just slip in with them."
He reached beneath the counter and pulled out three plain brown robes.
Runa didn't hesitate—she bought them, nodded once to Snider, then slipped back onto the path.
She found Kyren and Lydel crawling out of the grass, about two hundred feet from the village.
"We're camping here tonight," Runa announced. "We're joining the cult's march to Zybana in the morning."
Kyren straightened up, wiping dirt from his hands. "How are we supposed to do that?"
"With these." Runa yanked the robes out of her bag.
Kyren's eyes lit up. "That's a good ass idea."
"We'll still need to be careful," Lydel said, frowning toward the village. "But it could work."
"Let's head down the road," Kyren said. "Maybe a mile. Then we can set up camp."
They walked until they found a decent clearing—open enough for a fire, far enough to avoid unwanted eyes. As the flames flickered to life, the group sat in a loose circle, the silence heavy with thoughts of tomorrow.
Zybana was close now.
So was the eclipse.