Bonds and Betrayals – YouTube Narration
Chapter 1: After the Wake
Jorin walked slowly down the cobbled path, his thoughts lingering on Quillan’s wake. The Order of Passing had its rituals, and though Jorin couldn’t fully grasp them, he respected the way people here honored lives that came and went. In the center of the gathering, Quillan’s scale had been placed in a shallow well brimming with spiritual energy. The onlookers watched in silence as the scale dissolved into tiny particles, drifting upward like fireflies, joining others in a quiet, ethereal dance of light. No words were spoken, no speeches given. It was simple, a farewell witnessed in silence.
Back on Earth, funerals were so different: social gatherings with eulogies, music, and the presence of friends and family all drawn together. A grand display of goodbye. Here in Ignis, words were scarce and the farewell was quiet, almost elemental, as if acknowledging the passing without trying to command it. He hadn’t realized how much the ceremony would affect him, and even now, hours later, he felt the weight of the simplicity, as if Ignis itself whispered to him that life moved on without spectacle.
A cool breeze stirred, pulling him from his thoughts and reminding him of the empty ache left by Quillan’s passing. Brindlebrook’s winding streets greeted him with familiar sights, lanterns casting warm shadows across the cobblestone. The shops, marked by pictorial signs. A loaf of bread here, a bundle of herbs there, were a reminder that most people here couldn’t read or write. The simple icons conveyed all they needed to know. It amused Jorin, showing him just how different this place was from Earth, where words coated every corner of a city. Yet, despite those differences, the Realm of Ignis felt familiar. People were still people, living, laughing, grieving. Here, they wielded magic instead of technology, but the essence of life felt unchanged.
Lost in thought, he almost passed by the bakery when a warm voice called out.
“Jorin! Was just about to close up for the night.” The baker, a stout man with flour-dusted hands and a ready smile, waved him over from the doorway.
Jorin felt a small smile break through his somber thoughts. “Evening, Wendel,” he greeted, stepping into the cozy warmth of the shop. The comforting scent of freshly baked bread and spices wrapped around him, soothing in a way he hadn’t expected.
Wendel handed him a loaf wrapped in brown paper, his eyes twinkling. “Thought you might want a little something for supper. Rough day, I hear.”
Jorin nodded, accepting the loaf. “Aye…Quillan’s wake. Feels strange without him around.”
The baker’s expression softened. “Quillan was one of the best. Saw something in this world the rest of us couldn’t, didn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Jorin replied, feeling the weight of the words. “He had a way of seeing people, of understanding them. It’s…strange, this quiet.”
Wendel clapped a floury hand on Jorin’s shoulder. “Well, keep that head up, lad. Quillan would’ve wanted it that way. We’re still here, right?”
The simple words offered comfort, grounding him in the here and now, where people still remembered and shared in each other’s losses. He paid Wendel, feeling a pang of nostalgia as he handed over a few coins. Back on Earth, buying bread felt like a transaction; here, it was a moment shared.
Stepping back onto the street, Jorin allowed himself to be pulled into memories. Moments he’d tucked away since that day over a decade ago when he and two others had been brought here in a single, blinding instant. It was an accident, the result of forbidden magic by three reckless siblings who had unlocked an ancient book.
He’d never forget that wave of energy crashing through him, like the sun bursting into his veins, connecting with something deep in his mind. Even now, he could recall the flood of pure exhilaration, like seeing colors and feeling sensations for the first time. In Ignis, strange new abilities had blossomed within him: he could jump higher, move faster, sense the world in ways that had been unimaginable on Earth.
Yet even after all these years, he still compared Ignis to the world he had lost. The people here were powerful and those with noble titles were essentially walking weapons, faster and stronger than any athlete Earth had ever known. And perhaps the most striking difference lay in how they guarded knowledge, a thing treasured and hoarded, not freely shared like on Earth.
Once, he’d tried explaining Earth’s internet to a group of adventurers over drinks, describing the boundless flow of information, the jokes, the memes, the endless threads of knowledge. They had laughed, comparing it to mythical relics like the Veilkeeper’s Codex. Here, the idea of free information was a fairy tale.
His musings carried him further down Brindlebrook’s cozy streets, and as he neared the blacksmith’s forge, he heard the rhythmic clang of metal on metal. He hesitated; normally, it was Quillan who handled the group’s weapon repairs, especially when it came to arranging their swords and other close-combat gear. Jorin, a bowman, usually left it to his late friend.
The blacksmith, a burly man named Garron with soot-streaked arms and a gruff demeanor, looked up as Jorin approached. He set down his hammer, wiping his hands on his apron, and gave Jorin a solemn nod.
“Evening, Garron,” Jorin greeted, trying to sound casual despite the weight of the day. “I’ll need to take care of our party’s weapon upkeep for now.”
Garron grunted softly, his gaze lowering. “Feels wrong, not seeing Quillan here with that big smile of his. He’d always have some tale to tell while I worked.”
Jorin nodded, the ache in his chest tightening. “Aye. He kept us all laughing, even when things were…rough.”
The blacksmith paused, then gestured toward a rack of freshly polished blades. “I’ll keep things sharp for you all, Jorin. And if you ever need a hand, well…you know where to find me.”
“Thanks, Garron,” Jorin replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
Garron offered him a firm nod, his silence an acknowledgment of shared grief. As Jorin left the forge, he felt an odd sense of responsibility settle over him. For years, he’d relied on Quillan’s easy way with people, his skill at handling the little details. Now, the mantle felt heavy.
By the time he reached his modest home, night had fully blanketed Brindlebrook. Opening the door, he found Rena standing just inside, her face illuminated by a small, flickering candle on the table. Her expression softened when she saw him, a flicker of relief mingling with joy. She had been with him since the beginning, her sharp mind and quiet resilience a constant support. They shared a history that bound them in ways that few could understand.
Rena’s presence had always brought warmth, something Jorin hadn’t realized he’d come to depend on. She loved cooking, tending to the house, and cultivating her small garden. With Rena, even this distant world felt closer to the home he’d left behind. Sometimes, he wondered if his family was still searching for him back on Earth, unable to shake the feeling that he’d disappeared without a trace, without a goodbye. It was always there, lingering, a sorrow just under the surface.
In the dim light, he noticed her left arm missing. A reminder of the battles they had fought and the parts of themselves taken by this world.
“Jorin,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of excitement. “We had a visitor.”
Chapter 2: An Unexpected Visit
Jorin took a deep breath, setting down his things. Emma had always brought a touch of unpredictability with her, and tonight was no different. Seeing her again felt strange, as if she were part of another lifetime, one filled with reckless adventure, tragic losses, and unspoken regrets.
“Emma,” he said, his voice soft but questioning. “What brings you here?”
Emma smiled, her gaze lingering on him a bit longer than he was comfortable with. She shrugged playfully. “Can’t an old friend drop by?”
Jorin chuckled, shaking his head. “We both know you’re here for more than a friendly visit.”
Emma sighed, her eyes narrowing in that familiar, determined way. “I want you and Rena to join me in the Family Race.”
Jorin raised an eyebrow, trying to mask his surprise. The Family Race was legendary, a trial held every two years that drew competitors from across the Realm. It was said that no challenge was off the table and participants could be asked to fight monsters, solve riddles, or gather rare artifacts. And winning? That was a rare feat, with no victor crowned in the last five races. For most, the allure was obvious: joining one of the 36 Families, gaining a Family Name, and eventually a Surname that carries more weight than any royal title or noble rank.
“I’ll pass,” he replied with a smirk. “Back on Earth, everyone is born with a surname. I’m not sure I need another.”
Emma’s eyes sparkled with determination. “It’s more than a name, Jorin. It’s status. It’s power. And maybe…” She paused, her expression softening as her gaze lingered on him. “Maybe it’s a new start.”
Jorin gave her a faint smile, sensing her meaning but not wanting to address it directly. Instead, he studied her face, noting how she looked older, wiser, perhaps hardened by her new life under a combat Artisan’s mentorship. Emma’s talent had always been in the art of the daggers, a skill she had pursued relentlessly after their group’s last misadventure. He couldn’t help but admire her dedication, even as the memory of that fateful night flickered in his mind.
Their last adventure had fractured their group. Bao had been so certain they were chosen for greatness, that being pulled into Ignis was part of a grand destiny. He had embraced the fantasy, wielding his newfound powers with almost fanatical zeal. But that fervor had cost them dearly. Bao had disappeared without a trace, and Rena had paid the price, losing her left arm in the chaos.
As if sensing his train of thought, Emma’s expression softened, her hand reaching out to rest lightly on his arm. “I know it’s hard to think about those times. But the race… it could mean something new, something better.”
Rena, who had been quietly listening, spoke up. “Emma, where are Max and Lily? Last I heard, Max was off on some expedition.”
“Max is in a party of his own, gathering his own crew for the race. And Lily… well, you know Lily,” Emma replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “She’s too curious to stay out of trouble. A Sage took her under his wing, teaching her things most people would never even hear of.”
Jorin nodded, though he still wasn’t convinced. His life was quieter now, more routine, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave it behind. But Emma’s presence stirred up old memories and the undeniable pull of adventure. He could tell she wasn’t finished with her request.
Then, something struck him as odd. He glanced around, suddenly alert. “Wait…where’s that strange pet of yours? The one that usually trails you like a shadow?” he asked, half expecting the creature to pop up out of nowhere and start causing trouble.
Emma’s eyes widened briefly, then she laughed. “Oh, you mean Mimic? Odd little thing. It ran off a few nights ago, acting strange as ever. No clue where it went.”
Jorin felt a prickle of unease, recalling Mimic’s unsettling habit of lurking around in the form of random inanimate objects: a cup, a chair, even a shoe once. The creature always seemed to pop up at the worst times, with that raspy laugh and a gleam in its eye. Jorin glanced briefly at a nearby stool, just in case. He’d never quite trusted Mimic, and he wasn’t particularly upset to hear it was gone, though he also wouldn’t be surprised if it reappeared, in the shape of a coat rack or something, when they least expected.
“What about the book?” Rena asked suddenly, her tone cautious. “The spell book that brought us here. Is it still with Lily?”
Emma hesitated, glancing down. “I… I don’t know. I think so. But it’s just a book now, isn’t it?”
Rena raised an eyebrow, her voice carrying a note of warning. “You’d better hope it is.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The memories were still fresh, the ache of loss still raw. But the allure of Ignis had a way of rekindling that sense of wonder, even when it brought pain.
Finally, Jorin broke the silence. “Look, I need to get ready for tomorrow’s task. Nyra and Vera accepted an escort job for the Biomancer and his assistant. Some kind of research mission in the swamps.”
Emma’s face lit up. “Let me come along. It’ll be like old times.”
Jorin hesitated, remembering how “simple” had often become “complicated” when Emma was involved. He saw the eagerness in her eyes and the way her fingers traced a small circle on his arm, almost absentmindedly, as if she were holding onto the moment. Despite everything, he couldn’t deny her that spark of adventure. With a sigh, he nodded. “Alright, Emma. But this is just an escort task. Don’t go making it more complicated than it needs to be.”
Emma grinned, her excitement palpable. “Don’t worry. I’ll behave… unless you need rescuing, of course.”
He rolled his eyes, suppressing a smile. To him, she was still the same fiery girl who had tagged along on their quests like a younger sister. But as she stepped closer, he caught a flash of something more in her expression. A hope she didn’t dare voice. He quickly looked away, focusing on the upcoming task. In that moment, Jorin felt a hint of what had once brought them all together, a glimmer of connection, even in a world as unforgiving as Ignis.
Chapter 3: Into the Swamp
As the morning mist clung to the swamp’s edge, Jorin noticed an absence: Nyra. She and Vera had been the ones eager to take on this escort job from the start. But now, Nyra was nowhere to be seen, claiming that Emma’s presence would only complicate things. Jorin had shrugged it off. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more behind her absence than she was letting on.
The swamp stretched before them, filled with towering trees draped in moss and a thick canopy that cast everything in a muted green glow. The Biomancer, a tall figure with sharp eyes and an almost feline grace, was inspecting plants, murmuring softly to his assistants as they cataloged samples. Life teemed around them, from shimmering insects darting between branches to the low croaks of unseen amphibians hidden in the dense foliage. In some ways, it felt no different from the swamps of Earth, except here, faintly glowing particles floated in the air, and strange plants with luminous leaves and twisting shapes added an otherworldly edge to the familiar murk.
Emma, predictably, had already managed to wander into deeper mud, stumbling with a muttered curse as her foot sank. “This swamp doesn’t seem to like me,” she grumbled, shaking her muddy boot as if that might help.
Jorin chuckled, sharing an amused glance with Vera. “Just stick to the path, Emma,” he called over, though he knew that advice was probably lost on her.
Vera, her amber eyes sharp and her stance regal, observed the Biomancer with a mix of respect and calculation. A Beast-woman from the lioness tribe, she radiated a quiet authority and strength that were difficult to ignore. The Biomancer was focused on his work, but Vera’s attention lay elsewhere. The air between her and Jorin grew serious as Emma busied herself amusingly in the background, muttering complaints about the swamp’s abundant insects and their apparent vendetta against her.
Turning back to Jorin, Vera began, “The Accord’s been meddling again, Jorin. They screwed us over with that last mission. Sending us after Malara.”
Jorin’s expression hardened, the memory still fresh. They hadn’t stood a chance against Malara; she’d been too powerful, too well-prepared. “We couldn’t even touch her,” he muttered. “If it weren’t for Quillan…we wouldn’t be here. It was a slaughter.”
Vera nodded, her voice low. “The worst part? Malara knew it was us. Someone in the Accord leaked our information. Nyra and I are digging into it.”
A pang of betrayal twisted in Jorin’s gut. “And why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” he asked, his voice laced with frustration.
Vera met his gaze squarely. “Because I was going to handle it alone. Then I found out Nyra was investigating, too, so we decided not to pull anyone else in. Information leaks in the Accord are dangerous business, Jorin.”
Jorin clenched his fists, feeling foolish for never suspecting, for trusting so blindly. “I thought I’d left that naïveté back on Earth,” he admitted quietly, bitterness evident in his tone.
Vera placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself. We all trusted the Accord. Quillan did too.” She paused, her gaze softening. “But now, we have to find out who betrayed us. We owe it to him.”
Jorin nodded, a hard resolve settling over him. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Quillan deserves that much.”
A grin broke across Vera’s face. “Good, because I need you to use your…persuasive talents on the Biomancer.”
“Wait, what?” Jorin frowned, genuinely confused. His charm ability: Beastbond, was a skill he used to communicate with creatures and gain their trust. “Beastbond only works on animals and insects, Vera. How is it supposed to work on him? And…why?”
She smirked, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “The Biomancer is an Elenari, Jorin. His true form? A cat.”
Jorin’s eyes widened as the absurdity dawned on him. “So you want me to ‘charm’ him…like a house cat?”
Vera chuckled, clearly enjoying his bewilderment. “Something like that. Although I doubt he’ll start purring, even if you are very persuasive.”
Jorin shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll try, but since he’s Elenari, Beastbond might not be fully effective. May I ask again, why?”
“Oh,” Vera replied, dropping her voice to a whisper. “His girlfriend is the manager who handles the Accord’s tasks. She’s the one who distributes our quests.” Vera smirked, leaning in slightly. “People tend to let things slip…especially after certain moments together.” She shot Jorin a sly look, her eyebrow arched in amusement as her gaze briefly flicked toward Emma before returning to him. “So…anything you’d like to share, Jorin?”
Jorin shook his head quickly, brushing away the notion with a barely-concealed grin.
As the meaning behind her words sank in, Jorin began to understand why Vera and Nyra had been so eager to take on this escort mission. At first, he’d thought they were choosing something simple, a quiet task to ease the weight of Quillan’s passing. But now he realized they were driven by something far deeper: a need to uncover what had truly happened, to get answers. Shame prickled at him. He’d simply accepted the mission at face value, chalking it up to just how things were. Meanwhile, Vera and Nyra hadn’t let themselves settle for easy explanations. They were chasing the truth.
“Nyra’s on her way,” Vera continued. “Luring some of the swamp’s creatures over to create a distraction. While we’re dealing with whatever shows up, we’ll knock out the Biomancer’s assistants, and you use Beastbond to get the Biomancer talking.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Jorin replied wryly, eyeing her with skepticism. “So, if this doesn’t work, you’ve got a Plan B?”
Vera nodded, her expression serious. “If the Biomancer’s a dead end, we go after the source. But the Accord guards its information brokers well. Moving against her would be nearly impossible without raising alarms.”
Emma, who had been out of earshot but clearly bored with her own antics, chose this moment to rejoin them, a large leaf perched on her head like a makeshift hat. “So, what are we talking about?” she asked, eyes sparkling with excitement, though there was a hint of mischief in her gaze that Jorin didn’t miss.
Vera looked at Emma, then back at Jorin, with a silent exchange that clearly said, You brought her; you deal with her.
Emma pouted, crossing her arms dramatically. “Unbelievable. You’re all talking fun stuff while I’m out here wrestling with mud.” Her tone was light, but there was a glint in her eyes that made Jorin wonder if she’d actually caught every word and was just pretending not to know.
Jorin couldn’t help but chuckle, enjoying her antics despite the tension of the conversation. “You volunteered for the swamp tour, Emma.”
She tossed the leaf from her head at him playfully. “And you love the entertainment I bring,” she retorted with a wink, her gaze lingering on him a bit longer than necessary. He smiled, feeling like he was humoring a younger sibling, even as she kept dropping hints he tried his best to ignore.
At that moment, Vera tilted her head, ears twitching as she caught an approaching sound. “Nyra’s here,” she said with a faint smile, eyes gleaming. “And with her…an impressive beast to complete the scene.”
Jorin glanced over the swamp as Nyra emerged from the shadows, her silhouette barely visible against the dark trees. She gave them a slight nod, her usually cool expression softened with an approving look toward Vera. “Let’s get started,” she murmured, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the assistants and the Biomancer.
Jorin felt his heart rate spike as he prepared for the chaotic, unpredictable plan that was about to unfold.
Chapter 4: Secrets Revealed
As Nyra crept closer to the group, shrouded by her invisibility spell, Vera’s ears twitched, sensing her approach. Jorin, too, could detect flickers of movement with his Eagle Sight, moments where Nyra’s form shimmered into his view before vanishing again. Emma, however, saw her as clear as day, though she kept that fact to herself, quietly amused by the others’ limited awareness.
Trailing Nyra was a creature like nothing Jorin had ever seen. A beast with a beaver’s head, sharp eyes, and a network of plant-like tentacles flowing from its back. The swamp air seemed to thicken as the creature drew closer, its tentacles swaying in a hypnotic rhythm. Suddenly, the Biomancer and his assistants turned, their expressions shifting from calm observation to shock.
“It’s a Bogstrider!” one of the assistants shouted, calling out the creature’s name.
“Watch its tentacles! They’ll try to root you in place!” the Biomancer warned, his voice steady but wary.
The Bogstrider lurched forward, its beaver-like head twisted into a feral snarl as its vine-like tentacles writhed around it. The air grew thick with a sickly-sweet rot, a scent like decaying plants and stagnant water. As it moved, the swamp mud clung to its tentacles, which slapped against the ground with a wet, sticky sound. One of the slimy vines brushed Jorin’s arm, leaving a slick, gritty residue that made his skin crawl.
The group sprang into action, launching attacks against the creature but keeping the appearance of struggling. Each member played their role in the staged fight, all while inching closer to the real target: the Biomancer. Jorin kept close to Emma, who was making an exaggerated show of dodging the creature’s tentacles, giving him the perfect opportunity to reach over and subtly tap her with a quick motion. Emma took the cue with a dramatic fall, landing convincingly and willingly into Jorin’s arms, as if she had been knocked unconscious, her expression showing she didn’t mind the position one bit.
Vera moved swiftly, knocking out the two assistants in the ensuing chaos. Nyra and Jorin coordinated their attacks with precision, dispatching the Bogstrider in a final strike. The monster fell with a splash into the swamp, the tentacles receding into the murky water.
Breathing heavily, the Biomancer turned to them, gratitude in his eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured, dazed from the ordeal.
Jorin took a steadying breath and activated Beastbond, reaching out to charm the Biomancer. A faint, almost dreamlike glow flickered in his eyes as the connection took hold. Nyra uncloaked herself beside him, watching intently. Jorin suppressed a surge of discomfort; he’d never liked using Beastbond. The ability felt forced, like an intrusion, a manipulation that twisted another creature’s mind, even if it was only insects and animals. It always left him with the sense he was taking something from them, bending their will against its nature. But with Vera and Nyra’s expectant gaze on him, he forced himself to push the unease aside, focusing instead on the task.
The charm seemed to have some effect, but the Biomancer’s gaze kept slipping, his focus wavering in and out as he fought the influence.
“It’s not working,” Jorin muttered, trying to strengthen the charm. But the Biomancer continued to blink, clearly struggling against its effects.
Before Jorin could attempt again, Emma suddenly sat up, her eyes blazing with determination. “Alright, that’s enough!” she declared, startling everyone. “Jorin, you’re about to get yourself in trouble or worse, penalized by the Accord. And I’m not letting that happen.”
Jorin stared at her, shocked. Emma moved toward the Biomancer, her expression fierce. She placed her hand on his shoulder and whispered something under her breath. Instantly, the Biomancer’s eyes glazed over, his face relaxing into a calm, pliable expression.
“There,” Emma said, turning back to the group with a small, pleased smile. “Now you can ask him anything.”
Nyra, Vera, and Jorin exchanged stunned glances. After a beat, Vera gave Jorin a teasing grin. “Seems like Emma’s a keeper, don’t you think?”
Emma’s cheeks flushed as she looked at Jorin, visibly pleased by the compliment. Jorin, however, managed only an awkward smile, feeling more out of his depth than ever.
They turned to the Biomancer, seizing the rare opportunity for information.
“Tell us about the manager,” Vera instructed, her tone low and steady. “What has she told you about recent quest requests?”
The Biomancer’s voice softened, his gaze drifting as if in a trance. “She tells me things… little details, all sorts of secrets…” His response was vague, skimming over various tasks and rumors from the Accord.
Vera interrupted, her voice sharper. “Focus. We need to know about our assignments, particularly the request involving our team and Malara.”
At the mention of Malara, Emma’s expression shifted, her head tilting slightly as if piecing together a distant memory. She perked up, her eyes narrowing with a mix of curiosity and unease. The name stirred something familiar, a figure from long ago, one she’d met as a child but could barely recall.
The Biomancer blinked, as if honing in on the memory. His voice steadied, taking on a more directed tone. “Yes. That assignment was indeed…special. The request itself came from a Family Member, Valaris Aeternal Keeper.”
A chill settled over the group as they processed the name. Valaris, known by the moniker “Aeternal,” marked him as a member of the House of Aeternal, one of the oldest families in Ignis. The Surname “Keeper” spoke of his mastery over time magic, a legacy of his family’s ancient power. For a Family Member of such stature to involve himself in their affairs was beyond anything they could have imagined.
Jorin’s pulse quickened, confusion and disbelief churning within him. “A Family Member… and Valaris, of all people?” he muttered, almost to himself. Valaris held a position of unmatched influence. His name was known throughout Ignis, and his mastery of time magic was practically legendary. He was rumored to have turned back death itself, restoring life by reversing its final moments. For someone of his power, there was no need for intermediaries, let alone an inexperienced party like theirs, to handle such a dangerous mission.
The Biomancer continued, his voice softening even further. “But Valaris was not the one who selected your party. That choice was made by Akoro, the Golden Blade.”
The revelation hit Jorin and his companions hard, their minds racing with the implications. Akoro, a well-known hero with a title to match, was powerful in his own right. That he would arrange for Jorin’s party to confront Malara was unexpected and troubling.
Emma’s voice broke through the tension, her usual playfulness gone, but a spark of excitement lit up her eyes. “Akoro… He’s set to participate in the upcoming Family Race. And Valaris… well, he might be there as a test giver.” She paused, glancing at Jorin with an expression that was hard to read, hopeful, maybe even a little eager. “If we join the race, we might be able to get close enough to ask them directly.”
For just a moment, Jorin caught the flicker of something in her tone, as though the thought of competing in the Family Race meant more to her than just finding answers. She was trying to draw him in, he realized, sharing her excitement in a way that made it harder for him to refuse.
Jorin exchanged glances with Vera and Nyra, their expressions mirroring the same shock and determination. They’d been set up, targeted by someone who should have had no need to involve them at all. If they wanted answers, they would have to confront Akoro and perhaps even Valaris himself, no matter the risk.
As they regrouped, Jorin cast a sidelong glance at Emma, who was beaming with pride from her unexpected contribution. Vera nudged him playfully, smirking. “She really is a keeper, you know.”
Jorin rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. Despite the confusion, betrayal, and danger, he was grateful for the loyalty and strange camaraderie surrounding him. And now, they had a path forward. One that might finally reveal the truth behind Quillan’s death and the Accord’s hidden machinations.
