The group ran for as long as their legs would carry them, only stopping briefly to catch their breath. The miles blurred behind them, but their pace slowed the farther they went. With only five miles to go, they finally took a real break.
Kyren passed around his canteen, sharing what water he had left. No one spoke. They just breathed—hard, deep, readying themselves for what was coming. If Grandma Windy's journal was accurate, tomorrow's eclipse wouldn't just be rare. It would be chaos.
When they resumed, they walked instead of ran.
"So, we going in fast and loud or all spy-like?" Lydel asked, voice low.
"We blend in when we get there," Kyren said simply.
Runa raised a brow. "So what's the actual plan, Kyren?"
"If it's like the last eclipse, the ritual starts at noon. That's when we strike—before they finish, before we're dealing with an army of Converts."
He turned to her. "Runa, I need you to create as many weapons as you can and hide them around the city before the battle."
Runa frowned. "Why?"
Kyren's voice softened but brimmed with quiet confidence. "Those bracelets you wear—they can do more than just boost your abilities. I'll show you how to activate them when the time comes."
Still a little wary, Runa began absorbing nearby rocks and blades of grass as they walked. "Alright. I got you, Kyren. But we've still got a whole day until the eclipse."
"Then we find shelter," Kyren said. "And you gather intel tonight."
"Why me?" Runa snapped.
Lydel shrugged. "Maybe because we're wanted?"
"Oh. Right." Runa sighed. "Forgot."
They walked in silence for nearly an hour before Zybana finally came into view—not a faint outline this time, but the real thing. The large buildings that once made up its bustling square still stood, though time and neglect had taken their toll.
As they drew closer, Kyren noticed the difference. The gates hung rusted and broken. The smooth brick roads were now dust-covered and cracked. Yet beneath the ruin, the bones of a once-beautiful city still stood—just like in Windy's journal.
"This is it," Kyren murmured. "But it wasn't… this old in the journal."
The streets were packed. Dozens of robed figures lined the roads, their presence making the city feel suffocating.
Kyren made his way to the massive pavilion. It still stood—weathered but proud. But behind it… nothing. The houses that Windy described were gone, replaced by empty plains. Whether it was the last eclipse or something that happened after, Kyren couldn't say.
In the center of the pavilion, five men stood: three in golden robes and two in purple.
"I thought there was only one man in purple?" Kyren muttered, brows furrowed.
"When I was locked up," Runa said quietly, "they called them Starmakers. I couldn't tell if it was a title or a type of priest."
"We need a place to sleep," Lydel interrupted, already turning down the street.
He pointed at a building where at least fifteen people loitered outside. "That's an inn."
As they approached, a cultist growled, "If you want a room, you're outta luck. You're way behind us on the list."
"Thanks for the heads-up," Kyren said, already turning around.
"Where are you going?" Lydel called after him, jogging to catch up as Runa followed Kyren without a word.
"Seriously, what are we doing?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Runa said over her shoulder. "We're camping outside the village."
"The eclipse is in the morning," Kyren added. "Runa, you'll need to slip back into the village tonight—watch the sermon, learn what you can."
She just nodded.
A few hundred feet outside the gate, they set up camp. Afterward, Runa headed back, slipping into the town as night fell. Her destination: the bar.
She didn't go inside. Instead, she leaned against the wall and listened.
"You ready for tomorrow?"
"The eclipse? What's the big deal?"
"You haven't been paying attention to the sermons, huh?"
"Missed a few."
"They're converting at least thirty people tomorrow. And there'll be two Starmakers."
That was all Runa needed to hear.
She'd already been planting weapons all over Zybana—hatchets, daggers, short swords. Small but deadly. By now she'd hidden fifty of them. Still, if thirty Converts were expected, she needed more.
With stealthy steps, she continued placing weapons, tucking them beneath carts, wedging them into alleyways. As the crowd began to drift toward the pavilion, she followed.
She took a seat on the ground as Priest Wilther stepped forward, arms wide.
"For anyone new to Zybana, I am Priest Wilther. Tonight, we welcome you. Tomorrow, you will ascend."
His voice cracked with emotion. "Many will be chosen—some for Conversion, others for greater callings. Perhaps even Starmakers. Tomorrow is the rise of the Church of Conversion. Epsilon will remember this day."
He choked on a sob. "The All-Father chose the weak. He gave us his strength. If we all die tomorrow, those who survive will be mightier than any who refused."
He wiped at his face, but a wicked grin cut through his tears.
"When the sun dies behind the moon… we begin."
He stepped back.
Runa slipped away with the rest of the crowd, the stars gleaming above her, the moon hanging bright and full.
When she returned to camp, Kyren and Lydel were already waiting.
"They're converting at least thirty people," she said quietly. "Two Starmakers. Noon."
No one said a word. There was nothing left to say.
They sat around the fire, cooking what food they had left. The warmth of the flames offered some comfort, but it couldn't chase away the creeping sense of unease. They ate in silence—each bite laced with anticipation, nerves, and something almost like dread.
Lydel was the first to break the quiet. "So… we're walking into a nest of cultists. Is it really gonna be that different from the moles?"
Kyren glanced up. "The moles didn't have powers. They were just big."
Runa poked at the fire with a stick. "If we wait and let the Converts go feral, it might actually be easier. They'll be more dangerous—but also more unpredictable. Less organized."
Kyren nodded slowly. "I don't like the idea of letting people turn into monsters just to make things easier on us. But… I don't see another way."
Lydel shrugged, already lying back with his bag under his head. "Honestly? I couldn't care less. None of them looked brainwashed to me. Not yet, anyway."
The fire crackled as the silence returned, heavier than before.
"Let's get some sleep," Lydel mumbled. "Who's taking first watch?"
"I got it," Runa said, raising a hand. A sly smile tugged at her lips. "You lovebirds go get your beauty rest."
Lydel grunted, unbothered, already half-asleep.
Kyren smirked but didn't respond. He crawled into the tent and laid his head down, but sleep didn't come easily. His mind wandered—past the fire, past the stars overhead, deep into Zybana and the horrors waiting there. The eclipse. The conversions. The man in purple.
The original Starmaker.
His eyes remained open in the dark, the sound of the wind in the grass his only company.