Elyno pushed open the door of the bar with the tired resignation of someone who had walked too many roads in too few days. The scent of stale beer and firewood rolled out to meet him, mingling with the sharper tang of old stone and something almost sweet—like dried herbs crushed underfoot.
He stepped inside and paused, letting his eyes adjust to the dim glow. The lanterns hung low over the wooden beams, their flickering light catching on brass cups and worn tables. The patrons were scattered, a few men hunched over dice games, others lost in quiet conversation. No one paid him much attention, and he was grateful for that small mercy.
He chose a table in the corner, half-shadowed by a cracked beam. For a moment, he simply stood there, feeling the ache in his shoulders, the slow pull of exhaustion behind his eyes. Then he sat and raised a hand to the barman.
"A mug of beer," he said, his voice softer than he'd intended. It came out sounding almost raw.
The barman nodded without comment. Elyno could hear him moving behind the counter—filling the mug, wiping his hands on a cloth that might once have been white. He let his gaze drift across the room. He didn't know what he was looking for. A reason to stay? A reason to leave?
The mug was set down in front of him. He wrapped his hands around it, feeling the chill of the metal seep into his palms. When he took the first swallow, the taste was bitter and sharp, and it grounded him more effectively than any meditation ever had.
He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. For a few heartbeats, there was nothing but the warmth of the drink and the quiet murmur of strangers.
Then the door creaked again. Footsteps crossed the threshold—measured, almost casual. Elyno opened his eyes, and his stomach tightened with recognition.
Pex.
The man had changed since the arena. He looked less guarded, though the old steel still lingered in the line of his shoulders. He scanned the bar once, then his gaze settled on Elyno. A faint smile curved his lips.
"Well," Pex drawled, striding over, "seems I'm not the only one in this sad place drinking my regrets away."
Elyno didn't answer immediately. He watched as Pex pulled out a chair and sat across from him without waiting for an invitation. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension from their first battle hung in the air like an echo neither quite knew how to banish.
Finally, Elyno lifted his mug and took another slow drink. When he set it down, he met Pex's eyes without flinching.
"I thought you'd hate me," he said quietly.
Pex snorted. "I thought so too. But…" His gaze turned distant, thoughtful. "When we fought, there was something honest in it. You weren't showing off. You weren't trying to humiliate me. You were just… surviving."
Elyno looked down at his hands. He didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing.
Pex tapped the edge of the table with one finger. "Sett Clan is full of bastards who think strength is the same as cruelty. Sergi certainly did. But you—" He paused, studying Elyno's face. "You don't seem like them."
A faint, humorless smile tugged at Elyno's mouth. "Maybe I'm just pretending."
"Maybe," Pex agreed. "Or maybe you're different."
They fell into silence again. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it wasn't hostile either. Elyno found that he didn't mind it as much as he thought he would.
The door swung open once more, and a gust of cold air swept through the bar. Voices rose—firm, clipped commands, the shuffle of boots on old boards. Elyno felt something tighten in his chest before he even turned to look.
Liora.
She stepped into the bar with the quiet authority of someone who belonged wherever she chose to stand. Her dark blue cloak hung open, revealing the silver crest of the Sett Clan over her tunic. Behind her came two Sett soldiers and a pair of Glory Clan envoys—one carrying a rolled map case, the other a lockbox bound in iron clasps.
For a moment, the entire room seemed to shift, like a beast holding its breath.
Elyno watched as she spoke to the barman. Her voice was low, composed, the kind of tone that made people lean in to listen. She gestured to the counter, and the barman began preparing flasks—small crystal vials with copper seals.
Mana restoratives. Vitality drafts. Supplies for a long journey.
His throat felt dry, though he couldn't have said why.
As she waited, Liora's eyes drifted across the bar—disinterested, assessing. And then, impossibly, they caught on his. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
Elyno felt something uncoil in his chest—something sharp and almost painful. Her gaze was not soft, but it wasn't cold either. It was searching, as though she were trying to read a language written only in the lines of his face.
For that single moment, it felt as if the rest of the bar had ceased to exist.
Pex cleared his throat softly. Elyno blinked, and the spell broke. Liora turned away, accepting the vials from the barman. But the echo of her gaze remained, warm and unsettling all at once.
Pex leaned forward, smirking faintly. "Looks like someone important is interested in you."
Elyno didn't answer. He took a slow drink, more to buy himself time than anything else. His heartbeat was still too fast.
At the counter, Liora conferred with her companions in hushed tones. The Glory Clan woman unrolled the map across a barrel-top, pointing to a mark inked in red. Elyno couldn't hear the words, but he didn't need to.
Pex lowered his voice. "I suppose you've heard the rumors."
"What rumors?" Elyno asked, though he thought he could guess.
"Star Consumption," Pex said, leaning back in his chair. "The old stories called it a god's hunger. They say it can devour energy—life force, mana, even will itself."
Elyno's fingers tightened around his mug.
"Sounds like a fairy tale," he muttered.
"Maybe." Pex shrugged. "But when the Sett and Glory Clans start working together? That's when fairy tales get dangerous."
Elyno's gaze slid back to Liora. She was listening intently to the older envoy, her expression calm but intent. She looked as though she were preparing for a war no one else could see.
And maybe she was.
Pex's voice softened. "You planning to go after it too?"
Elyno didn't answer right away. He let his eyes trace the curve of Liora's cheek, the quiet determination in the set of her shoulders. In that moment, he realized he didn't know whether he saw her as an enemy, an obstacle… or something else entirely.
"Maybe," he said at last.
Pex gave a thoughtful hum. "Then maybe I'll see you out there."
They sat in silence after that, the words between them like unspent arrows. Elyno finished his drink and set the empty mug down, feeling the weight of too many questions pressing against his ribs.
Liora gathered her supplies and turned toward the door. Just before she stepped outside, she looked back over her shoulder—just once. Their eyes met again, and Elyno felt a shiver he couldn't name.
Then she was gone, and the bar felt smaller for her absence.
Pex let out a long breath. "Well. That was something."
Elyno didn't reply. He was too busy trying to understand the shape of the storm he could feel gathering on the horizon.
Outside, the night was quiet. But in his chest, something had already begun to stir.