At the edge of the camp, the moonies were packing for their journey to the world bridge. the golden sun setting behind them. Luna wanted them to stay; everyone in her tribe was either too old or too young. When she finally met her peers it felt like they actually understood her, even if they were from another celestial body entirely.
Now they were leaving as suddenly as they'd arrived, and a tightness pressed against her chest.
"I can't convince you guys to stay another night, can I?" she asked, hopeful.
Dimitri slowly shook his head, his voice low. "We've been gone too long. Our mentor is doubtless worried sick."
Luna frowned and turned toward Tara. "Well… we have more berries. If you like blueberries, wait till you try strawberries—"
Tara cut her off with a grin. "I bet they're delicious. I'll have to volunteer for another expedition just so I can try them."
Atreus cut in gently. "We thank you for all that you've done, Luna. The savior became the saved…and although we wish to stay, we must part." He bowed again—this time deeper.
A faint smile broke through Luna's frown as she returned the gesture. "Okay. I guess I can't force you guys to stay… just be careful out there. I know you have magic, but the Oldlands are… unpredictable."
Tara's eyes softened, her tone serious. "We will. But you stay safe too, remember?"
Her eyes locked with Luna's stern, serious. She nodded remembering the elven girls earlier warning. Both Dimitri and Atreus looked at each other confused but chose not to pry further.
Pat'ul and Uncle Martin approached from behind. Martin carried a brown burlap sack, a smile hidden beneath his mustache.
"Young cauldron sister" he said flamboyantly. "Don't say you'll leave without a parting gift"
Tara's eyes widened, awaiting to see what the man had for her.
"Fruit, a full assortment of them" He said, opening the bag towards her. Inside various colors and textures, blended together in a slurry of flavor. Tara gasped as she took the bag from the man.
"Thank you Sir, a million times" She bowed in gratitude. Martin waved her off.
"No need for that, just show that moon, of yours what they're missing out on" he reached into his pocket pulling out a rough bark paper card with a light enchantment carved on the side. It prescribed
Posit-reval.
Dimitri took the card before Luna could. "Wait, you are an enchanter?" He said, studying the card. "Where did you learn this?!"
Martin shook his head and pointed to Pat'ul. "That's her work not mine," he replied. "I just mix berries."
Dimitri looked at Luna's mother with a mix of awe and suspicion. She met his gaze sensing his question before he asked.
"I do not wish to speak of it. Moedunn knows how long ago I was taught to code."
"So you are a follower of Moedunn" Atreus cut in, "The unendowed do tend to lean towards his inclusive teachings." The words dripped with an unintentional condensation.
Luna noticed her mother bite her tongue. She was trying to be respectful towards Luna's friends but it proved difficult for her.
"Without Moedunn and his followers, I would not have been given the chance to better my knowledge of the manaeic arts," she said, her tone stern. "I've not come here to argue—but to say goodbye, and to thank you for saving my child. Now that I've done that…"
She turned abruptly and disappeared back into the heart of the camp.
For a moment, no one spoke. All eyes lingered on where she'd stood.
Martin sighed. "Sorry about her. She's… been through a lot. Not very trusting of you moon-dwellers." He offered an apologetic smile before turning back to the group. "I, on the other hand, would love to do more business—so don't lose the card!"
He looked at Luna, his tone softening. "I'll let you say your goodbyes now."
Luna watched as her uncle returned back to his tipi, probably mixing up another concoction. She looked back at her friends all standing there waiting for her to say something. They're really leaving, she thought, grabbing her wrist nervously. It's so unfair.
Before she could speak Tara lended her berries to Atreus and gave Luna a big tight hug.
"Thank you for not scurrying off," she whispered. The hug lingered a moment longer before she let go, grabbed her small bag of fruit, and stood beside Atreus.
Dimitri stepped forward, the enchanting quill Luna had used earlier in his hand.
"You have a talent for enchanting," he said, raising a quill and his book of code toward her. "I want you to have these—so you can keep growing your skill. Maybe if you ever visit Akrinn, you'll have a way to earn yourself some Scrolls. They both have Voi-inven so you can use them when you need, all you need do is think them and they'll appear, like your dagger"
Luna's brow furrowed as she took the quill. "What are Scrolls?"
"The First's currency," Dimitri explained with a faint smile. "A little more organized than collecting rocks."
She glanced down at her hand — another expensive gift from the boy. The gold quill shimmered in the firelight, its surface alive with tiny runes that danced in delicate spirals along the handle.
Before she could speak, Dimitri stepped forward and pulled her into a hug — warm, unguarded, and brief. Atreus grimaced but said nothing, his expression twisting between irritation and something he couldn't quite name.
He spoke gently. "This isn't the last time we'll cross paths," he said, meeting her eyes. "I'll make sure of it."
A soft smile lingered on his face before he turned away, stepping onto the dusty road with Tara close behind.
Atreus didn't follow—not immediately. He lingered, his gaze fixed on Luna, studying her as though searching for something he couldn't name.
Luna shifted under his stare, nerves prickling her skin.
"Whatever does he see in you?" Atreus murmured, almost to himself, before bowing one last time and striding after the others.
Their silhouettes faded into the amber light of the setting sun, leaving Luna alone with the quiet hum of the Oldlands.
Luna looked down at the quill Dimitri had given her, her grip tightening around it. The gold shimmered faintly in the fading light, fragile, yet full of promise.
She lifted her eyes to the sky. Akrinn hung above, its glow still vibrant as ever, colors rippling like a dream just out of reach.
I'll get there… somehow, she thought, tucking the quill close to her chest before turning toward home.
Dimitri, Tara, and Atreus approached the World-Bridge. It towered over the Oldlands, it's frame resembling that of oldworld architecture.
At its center swirled an ancient current of Manea — weary, but still holding. The enchantment sustaining it was old… and impossibly advanced.
Scaffolding wound around the colossal frame where workers moved like ants, tending to the fragile pulse of the portal, ensuring the path between worlds remained open — and alive.
And at the base was a checkpoint, full of carriages, Scavvers, and Merchants, all hoping to cross into the other world.
Guards filled the area, with White jumpsuits, and Golden helmets accompanied by white faceplates and black visors with glowing eyes behind them.
They were First Colony Guards. Every World-Bridge on Earth belonged to them, each one linked to the single bridge on Akrinn, deep within First Colony territory.
The group entered the reclaimed quartz building next to the portal. It had once been a government hall. Now, it served almost the same purpose — a headquarters for all the First's allies to plant their flags and establish bases on this long-forgotten planet.
Banners from Hassengaar, Forenth, and Olympus fluttered along the walls, their colors dancing in the dry wind that swept through the open arches.
"Have your passports ready," Dimitri warned, summoning his own into his hand with a flicker of violet light. "The First have a habit of escalating things."
Tara groaned, digging through her less-than-flashy satchel. "You still haven't taught me how to do that."
Atreus summoned his passport, it shimmered a golden hue, much different from the others, on the side it wrote "Collinsport, First Noble."
"Why not just buy the enchantment? It's much easier than learning to code," Atreus retorted.
Tara sneered. "Not everyone's drowning in Scrolls, Atreus."
They approached a First Colony guard, his uniform sealing him from head to toe — white jumpsuit, gold trim, visor glowing faintly beneath the brim of his helmet.
"We have business with the Olympian ambassadors," Dimitri said, his tone steady though his pulse betrayed him. "We've just returned from an expedition and—"
The guard cut him off. "Passports?" His gloved hand extended, palm open, the yellow fabric bright against the pale light.
Dimitri hesitated for a breath, studying the man's voice as much as his stance. The accent gave him away — Hassengaar-born, rough and iron-edged, the kind forged in war and fire, not in the quiet halls and lectures Dimitri had grown up in.
"Here" He said collecting the groups passports and handing them to the man.
The guard flipped through the passports, stopping on Atreus's.
"A Collinsport, huh? It's an honor to meet you, sir," he said, his voice thick with mockery.
Atreus stepped forward, missing the sarcasm entirely. "I'm sure it is. Now please return our passports—mine's likely worth more than your entire salary."
Behind the mask, the guard's grin twisted. "Oh sure, your majesty." He took the golden passport and ran it along his rear. "Now it matches my shite salary."
He held it out. Atreus snatched it from his hand, his face burning red as Tara's mouth twitched into a reluctant smile.
"What is your designation? I'll have a word with your commanding officer!" Atreus barked, voice cracking between outrage and disbelief.
Dimitri stepped between them. "We don't have time, Atreus. Come on."
He started down the hall. Tara grabbed Atreus by the sleeve, dragging him after Dimitri as the guard doubled over in laughter behind them.
They walked the ancient corridor, the tile beneath their feet newly refurbished — unlike the ceiling above. Paint peeled from the cracked roof, leaving patches of open sky visible through the decay. The place was clearly a work in progress.
The group approached a tall banner marked with a silver owl — Phenta. Beneath it sprawled a makeshift camp, desks and cots arranged in uneven rows. Two other groups of Olympian students were already there, turning in their assignments.
A voice echoed from behind them.
"Kindred Set Vei — you're late."
They froze.
Dimitri's breath hitched before he even turned around.
It was Merrel Collinsport.
What is Sir Merrel doing here? Dimitri thought, his stomach twisting.
"Father?!" Atreus squalled.
"Dimitri," Merrel said, ignoring his son entirely. "Give me a report on your mission."
"Well, we extinguished four ancient cities—"
Merrel cut him off. "How many settlements were marked?"
Dimitri hesitated, already knowing his answer would not please Atreus's father.
"We've marked three settlements—"
Merrel's hand shot up, silencing him. "Only three? Kindred Set Iav marked four." His tone sharpened like a blade. He turned to Atreus. "I am disappointed. But I trust you did the best you could, Dimitri."
"Disappointed." The word stabbed deeper than any blade. Atreus felt the familiar cold pit in his stomach. He couldn't let his father look at him that way — not again.
His jaw tightened, jealousy and humiliation burning beneath his skin. He'd promised Dimitri not to reveal the truth — but the word echoed in his head, louder than reason.
"Actually, Sir Merrel," Atreus blurted, desperation seeping into his voice, "we found four as well."
Dimitri and Tara's head snapped toward him, eyes flaring like daggers.
"There's a sizable settlement near the old city of Astoria," Atreus continued. "Subjects are more than viable."
Heat rose in Dimitri's throat. He wanted to speak—to scorn Atreus, to protect Luna—but he knew that doing so would dishonor Merrel, Olympus, and Phenta herself. So he stayed silent, letting the anger show only through the burn of his glare.
"I'll send for some of our agents to investigate the location and make a trade for a few subjects," Merrel said, half-thinking aloud. "I'd rather this remain quiet—the First is already breathing down our necks as it is."
He snapped out of his muttering and fixed his sharp eyes on Atreus. "This information will suffice. Go rest at your cots. We leave for New Athens at first sun."
The group turned toward the barracks. Dimitri and Tara walked in silence, disgust tightening their faces. Atreus lagged behind, shame clinging to him like a shadow. He couldn't meet their eyes; he didn't need to. He could feel their disappointment like heat against his back.
Still, he forced his voice steady. "I did what was best for us in the long run," he said quietly. He hesitated, then added, "And… someday you'll thank me."
He turned away before either could answer, vanishing into the dim barracks and leaving a dark, heavy stillness over their shared camaraderie.