Even though they were two Yerps on a wagon, the chroniclers traveled fast and far out of Comi. That was Quin’s observation as his attempt to catch up brought him to a wooded area.

  Just a couple of minutes from town, Quin already found himself in a different environment.

  Birds other than seagulls filled his ears with whistles and tweets from every direction.

  Neither cool nor muggy, the morning air was pleasant. Scents of arbor and wild grasses found its way past Quin’s mask.

  Best of all, the sun brought an extra shine on the scene and gave the woods an added vibrancy with its colors.

  He breezed past a patch of sharp red flowers and its hue took his mind somewhere else.

  For a flash second, an image of a lady in red popped into Quin’s head. She seemed familiar but he had no luck with efforts to identify her.

  Who was she, he thought and where did he remember her from?

  The moment his attention drew away from the road, Quin breezed past an immobile wagon. The horses’ fright as he passed by brought him back to the here and now.

  He skidded to a stop as he turned back and saw Mier and Arty lift a loose wheel next to their transport.

  “There you two are,” said Quin as he approached the chroniclers. “Things kinda came up just now with our mission.”

  He grabbed the wheel from them and promptly rammed it back into place. “We all have to be at Comi.”

  “Ah, I see,” Arty replied impassively. “I guess we should turn back then.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. You already went as far a...” Quin realized the lack of pushback. “Oh. I thought you guys would’ve reacted angrily about that.”

  Mier climbed back to the driver’s seat. “Yeah well, we know how it is-”

  His foot slipped. Quin snapped over to help but luckily, Mier quickly recovered his footing. An awkward silence ensued for a bit.

  Arty perched himself in his seat. “The Cosondera have their priorities. Most times that won’t have anything to do with us. At least you aren’t turning us all the way back, right?”

  Quin’s eyes snapped to meet with Arty’s. “After everything that happened, how can we?”

  “If that wasn’t a rhetorical question, then I guess we can only go forward.”

  Silence occurred once again. The two chroniclers made it to their seats and the wagon whipped around, back to a wrecked city.

  Quin looked at the wagon then the ground then back at the wagon and back at the ground. He hated this tapping around.

  “I’m sorry abou-”

  “Don’t apologize Quin,” Arty interrupted with a swung head.

  “I’m sure if he could, Yach would tell you as much himself. That man more than anyone else never cared about how the world worked. He knew about the dangers and never let that bothered him. He was a lot of things, among them, upfront and direct.

  “So you know he wouldn’t approve of this moping. If you want to pay your respects to the guy, then the most respectful thing you could do is keep the grief to a minimum.”

  Quin tipped his head down and sighed. Maybe Arty had a point, but it did little to quell the guilt in his heart.

  He could have done more and it could have saved Yach. Even if he never feared death, his life didn’t have to end as it did.

  Quin had never seen a Yerp similar to Yach before nor since he stood out. Despite his disposition, he never folded to the dangers he faced, very much a Sentar’i in a Yerp’s body.

  As Arty said, he was a lot of things. Melancholic wasn’t one of them. A brave man, upfront and direct. Perhaps the best thing Quin can do is remember him and what he stood for.

  “Help! I need assistance!” yelled a man as he emerged from the trees.

  The three turned and saw a figure in dirtied and tattered clothing. He sported hair by his upper lip and the back of his head only.

  By no means a small man, but an old man. Quin wondered exactly what he needed help with.

  “Some asshole’s going around beating folks up,” he told Quin. “They think because the Cosondera is all busy, they can go and do whatever they want. I tried to stop them, but...it wasn’t enough. I know you Cosondere can do a lot so please, I need your help.”

  Quin pondered over the information when the wagon reminded him of his priorities.

  “That sounds bad,” he started. “I’d like to help, but I have other matters to take care of. I’m sure there’s another Cosondere nearby who can help you. In fact, go and tell someone about this in Comi. Someone should definitely help you then.”

  The man dropped a lip and raised an eyebrow.

  “It’ll be too late by then,” he countered. “Please, it’s just one guy. If we take him on together, than that should put him in his place. You have to help me.”

  Quin still had his reservations about the assistance. He wanted to help, but he couldn’t involve himself in every scuffle that came his way.

  That said, he still wanted to help. Different thoughts swam in his head.

  The man looked away and shook his head. “That poor Yerp. Guess it’s just bad luck on their part.”

  “Yerp? What Yerp?”

  “The guy is attacking Yerps. Just felt bad about it and tried to do something. Last night I saw a Cosondere grieving over a fallen Yerp. Actually, I think that was you. Seeing someone like that over a Yerp, It made me want to do something too. Just too weak I guess.”

  The equation had changed. Quin thought the dispute stemmed between two Sentar’i. Instead, it was the very thing he loathed the most.

  His hands rolled into fists as the thought of Sentar’i harassment on Yerps ran in his head.

  Moreover, for the first time, somebody other than him cared about their welfare. Other people, other Sentar’i who also didn’t approve the abuse Yerps received from their powerful counterparts.

  Suddenly, Quin’s reservations went away and his mind had changed.

  “You two, go back to Comi,” he told the chroniclers. “Let my teammates know that I had to take care of some trouble and make sure you stay on the path. If all goes well, I should be able to catch up to you before you reach the gate.”

  The two Yerps nodded in affirmation before they went on their way without their Cosondere bodyguard, other Yerps needed him at the moment.

  “Lead me to him,” Quin told the man.

  In no time, he and the Sentar’i bolted in the opposite direction. Another day, another instance of Yerp mistreatment.

  Like the stranger said, the Cosondera were preoccupied with events of the previous night which gave lowlifes a prime opportunity to get away with ill desires.

  Quin had no intent to allow it. Best of all, he wasn’t alone.

  He felt a great deal of comfort and confidence to see others that felt the same way. It empowered him. Emboldened him. Besides, he was in no mood to hear about another dead Yerp.

  The man pointed to a hillside across a small stream. More specifically, the indoor chamber within.

  “There! That small cave over there!” he shouted. “I think that’s where they dragged them.”

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  At first, the disturbance reminded Quin of the unpleasant moments he had with Orpes. Now it seemed reminiscent of the festival when an unhinged Sentar’i captured him.

  This time, he had the power to stop them or at least, an extra hand to help.

  The two entered the cave and from there, they saw nothing. No sounds nor signs of any sort of habitation let alone occupation.

  A small cave it was at that. Just from the entrance, Quin had already seen every corner.

  “Are you sure this is where you saw them?” Quin asked. “It doesn’t look like anything happened here recently.”

  “No. This is the spot,” the man replied as he stood by the entrance. “This is where I saw a Sentar’i take advantage of some poor sap. Maybe there’s some small opening somewhere.”

  Quin took a few steps inward but it made no difference, the space they entered was all to the cave. Where was the Sentar’i, he wondered. Where was the poor sap this stranger...

  The dots connected quickly and Quin snapped around to the man and the entrance. He was quickly met with a strong [Gust] attack that shoved him against the walls.

  Briefly disoriented, Quin popped back up to his feet and faced his sudden foe.

  “Sorry to pull your leg kid, I just needed a place to ourselves,” spoke the stranger with a straight face. He stepped further inside to complete the trap.

  “I don’t have anything against you personally, but I have a nice pay waiting for me after this, so...yeah.”

  “Are you kidding me?! You brought me all the way here just to steal my money?!”

  “Nah nah, nothing like that. I brought you here so I can kill you without issue.”

  Quin propped himself along the wall behind him. He kept his eyes squarely on the hostile Sentar’i while his hands tried to find anything to grab. Perhaps he could talk some sense to this madman.

  “Do you have any idea what will happen to you if you go through wit-”

  The Sentar’i quickly charged ahead with a [Gust] that drilled right at Quin. The Tyroviv reflexively dodged out of the way and the solid rock behind him fractured to pieces.

  He viewed the rubble of rocks before his eyes took him to his opponent who had smoke form up around him.

  “I don’t think that’s something you should be worried about right now,” the man stated. Wise words.

  Quin picked himself up and his gaze switched between his opponent and the exit. His next move swirled in his head as he charged at the Sentar’i.

  “Oh really? You’re making this way too ea-”

  Sight of Quin twirling put a stop to the man’s speech. Smoke revolved around the Tyroviv as he zipped around. In a blink, he threw out a kick.

  The smoke charged out from his leg and the [Swirl kick] bumped his opponent. Except it was just a small wave of wind.

  The closed space greatly limited his wind arts, but it pushed the unknown assailant a bit out of the way.

  It gave Quin more space between them and the exit. He stomped the rocky ground in a mad dash for daylight.

  Just as the sun nearly made contact with his skin, Quin’s left arm felt the contact of a [Ghost chain] as it coiled around. His escape came to an abrupt halt.

  He only had time to think ghost arts before the [Chain] yanked him back to the walls with a whack.

  Air knocked out of him, Quin needed a moment to rise to a knee. The solid smoke shackle still wrapped around his arm.

  The assailant dangled his [Chain]. “Wasn’t expecting me to use two arts, weren’t you? Guess what I’ll do next.”

  Instantly, red spikes jutted out from the links and quickly traveled the length of the chain. It reached the coil around Quin’s arm and the spikes pierced into his flesh.

  Blood and screams burst out from the unfortunate Tyroviv. He dropped to his knees as he moaned in agony over his upper forearm.

  “I have to say, this is much better than what I had planned last night,” the adversary mentioned.

  “I thought I could ‘snag’ you up during all the craziness in Comi. But by the time I saw ya, you were in a crowd and next to a mender. At least I got a good look at you.”

  Quin remembered the stare of a strange man that night. Huddled up beside a departed Yach, the same man who stared at him then, looked down at him now.

  “If you have any aces up your sleeve, now would be a good time to use them, otherwise...” He retracted his [Chain].

  Louder screams came out of Quin as the [Chain] unwound. His arm dropped limp.

  “...this cave will be your grave.”

  Quin barely registered the words, sharp pain engulfed his thoughts. He could barely move his arm without anguish. Blood dripped off his fingers, he’d never seen so much of it.

  The spiked whip zipped into view. Quin leaped over the [Chain] and dodged it, but his return to ground produced an even greater pain to his arm.

  He then stuck out his better arm to release his [Gust attack], it only had enough force to ruffle the man’s clothes. The confined space gave him little to work with, at least offensively.

  So he went with a different tactic.

  He formed up a ball of wind around him. The whisps of air barely moved the stones around him as he fenced himself within the [Iron wind].

  “You’re relying a lot on basic wind art-”

  Quin never listened as he bolted for the exit. He hoped the [Iron wind] would withhold any chain attack until he reached outside where he’d have at least a better chance to fend off his attacker.

  Once again, daylight was inches away. Once again, the [Ghost chain] stopped his progress.

  It tore through his wind defenses like a blade through grass.

  The [Chain] belted him across his lacerated left arm, its spikes shanked into his midsection as it sent him back against the wall beside him.

  “Using basic wind arts in a small room. Good grief, how could anyone mistake you for something special? Oh well, an easy pay is an easy pay. If you were actually gifted, you’d find a way out by now.”

  Quin crawled his way toward the exit, the least painful move he could make.

  His opponent could only shake his head at the act. “Just a plain ol’ cloak,” he concluded with a shrug. “Might actually do your comrades a favor by offing you.”

  How did this get so bad, Quin asked himself over and over. He was supposed to save a Yerp. Instead, he found himself fighting for his life in a random cave.

  All the friends he had made since he became a Cosondere. The adventures of the past week. The plans he had and the people he met.

  All of those things appeared in his head as he tried desperately to escape.

  He didn’t want it to end like this.

  He wanted to find his place within the team. He wanted to find his sister. He wanted to change the world. He wanted to get stronger. He wanted to see Aesther one more time.

  He felt the small lump of the sandals behind him and lamented all the missed opportunities to give them to her. He didn’t want it to end like this.

  What could he do? He closed his eyes to think when an image appeared in his head or more specifically, a person.

  “See me can you?” the figure asked. It was the lady in red. “Hurry, make a connection you must. Before too late, the times become.”

  The man noticed the closed eyes on his prey; he noticed the end in sight.

  “Waiting for the end huh?” He wound up his arm with his [Chain] at the ready. “Well it’d be rude to keep you waiting any longer.”

  Quin’s senses had long left the site.

  “Please! For destiny’s sake, my hand you must take.” The lady extended her arm, in eager wait for Quin’s next move.

  He couldn’t tell if he was in mid-dream or mid-madness. He had seen this woman before, but he didn’t know her.

  Red smoke started to emanate around the lady. “If life is your wish, then my hand.”

  Confusion, worry, anxiety. These feelings took over Quin’s very being. One thought prevailed in his mind: Don’t let it end like this.

  Quin took a leap of faith. His hand reached out and linked with the lady’s. The red smoke flowed between them as the two locked eyes with each other.

  “At long last,” she mentioned with a smile. “Begun have our destinies.”

  The assailing Sentar’i saw this red smoke form up around Quin and a slight hesitation befell him.

  “What? Is that actually red aura?” Another second passed before his widened face closed with stoicism. He rose his arm and jerked the spiked [Chain] right for Quin’s head.

  The Tyroviv quickly sprung to his knees, the [Chain] barely missed his head as it crashed to the ground before him.

  He paid no mind to the brief rumble and dust, his attention preoccupied with the red smoke around his body.

  He still couldn’t move his left arm, yet the pain had largely subsided. His gaze then turned to his opponent.

  The man smacked his lips as he brought his [Chain] back. “I better get some sterling silver for this.” He soon produced a duplicate [Ghost chain] from his other hand. “Time to put out the smoke.”

  The Sentar’i spread out his arms before he instantly brought them together. The [Chains] closed in fast from both sides.

  With no time to dodge and one functional arm, Quin appeared to be a sitting duck.

  He never even flinched.

  Quin’s aura took care of the danger. As if it was a solid wall, the [Chains] shattered upon contact with the red smoke.

  Shock, awe, and a hint of terror possessed the man’s face. Meanwhile through the mask of their prey, fury could be seen in the Tyroviv’s eyes.

  Time appeared to freeze along with the two Sentar’i. The man made a small step back, and Quin stuck his arm forward.

  Instantly, parts of the hill ruptured with a loud blast.

  The hostile Sentar’i was repelled out into the field with a skid and tumble until he splashed into the stream. His already scraped shirt completely disappeared on his way out.

  He slowly crawled out of the creek when out from the rubble and smoke strolled Quin with hard breaths.

  Finally out of the cave, he now had a clear way back to Comi. Rather than escape however, he took a step toward his opponent.

  The man sprung up in a hurry and charged his aura. Perceptible air formed around his right arm. Specks of water flew off of him as the wind around his arm sped up fast and faster.

  Soon it moved with enough speed to become a series of ripples.

  “Your basic wind arts won’t cut it!” he bellowed. Face full of fury. “We’re outdoors and my wind arts are better!”

  The wind took the form of a saw and enveloped the length of his arm.

  “I’ll splice you up where you stand!”

  He thrust forward and charged at Quin’s left side where the Cosondere’s arm remained unusable. Quin panted in place before he took a large breath and spun with a back kick.

  A tempest emerged from his leg.

  Quin’s [Swirl kick] (a standing [Swirl kick]) produced a force unlike any other. The wind cratered into the man’s torso and launched him back with rapidity.

  He busted through one tree then another then another, in a not so different manner to what Tyru did to Quin. Many birds flapped out of dodge in no mood to watch the bout.

  Quin breathed even heavier as he walked up to his opponent, pinned to the ground by a toppled tree. He saw the man jut out his arm, not to attack with his wind arts but rather, to yield.

  Quin moved closer.

  “...hold on!” uttered the man as blood escaped his mouth between breaths. “Wait a minute!”

  Quin slowly inched closer. Yach’s words bounced in his head.

  About how the only words a Sentar’i heard were fighting words. About logic and reasoning being his left and right fists respectively.

  He couldn’t use logic at the moment, but he had plenty of reason to finish the dispute.

  He could see the fear on his opponent’s bloodied face. He could see the struggle the man had in his attempt to escape. He could see the victory just across from him. Then, he saw nothing.

  He plopped down to the grass and passed out. Leaves rustled in the breeze as calmness ensued.

  The man lay in disbelief, seconds snapped by before he snapped out of his stupor. His face turned to every part of the forest.

  “You there?” he asked seemingly no one in particular. “You saw what you wanted to see? Out with ya!”

  Then, out of nowhere, the thin air ripped open to reveal a dark space. Out emerged a man in a red cloak with a single earring.

  Tchay Cosane stepped onto the scene. His only act, a smirk on his face.