Sarah's interrogation yielded valuable intelligence over the following weeks. The cult's structure, their remaining operations, the identities of three more Apostles. But she refused to discuss the Demon King or the true nature of the invasion.
"Some knowledge is too dangerous," she said during one session. "Even for someone trying to prevent the end. Especially for someone like you, who already flirts with darkness."
"You're not in a position to withhold information," I reminded her.
"Aren't I? Kill me, and you lose a valuable source. Let me live, and I'll eventually escape or be rescued. Either way, I control this relationship." She smiled behind her void-suppression mask. "Besides, you want me to talk. That means I have leverage."
She was right, which was infuriating.
"We could use more aggressive interrogation techniques," Nyx suggested after another fruitless session.
"No. We're not torturers."
"Damien would have—"
"I'm not Damien," I said firmly. "We get information through patience and intelligence work, not cruelty."
"Even if it means people die because we didn't act fast enough?"
"Even then. Some lines I won't cross."
Nyx studied me for a long moment. "Good. I was testing you. If you'd agreed to torture, I'd have been worried."
"You're terrifying, you know that?"
"I'm thorough. There's a difference."
While Sarah proved difficult, other intelligence sources were more productive. Specifically, reports from the Southern Kingdoms indicated unusual activity in the desert regions.
"Rift signatures appearing in patterns," Kael reported during a strategy meeting. "Not random like before. Deliberately placed, like they're building something."
"Another ritual circle?" Elara asked.
"Maybe. But different from the seven-pointed star pattern. This one's more... elaborate."
"We need eyes on the ground," I decided. "Someone to investigate without tipping off the cultists."
"I have a contact in the Southern Wastes," Nyx said. "A merchant who trades information. She mentioned unusual activities near the ancient desert ruins. Specifically, near the old Sun Palace."
The Sun Palace. In my previous timeline, it had been the seat of power for the southern desert kingdoms before the Demon Wars of the Second Age. Now it was ruins, slowly being reclaimed by sand.
"That's deep in desert territory," Kael noted. "Hostile environment, minimal support infrastructure. We'd need local guides."
"And local permission," Elara added. "The desert kingdoms are notoriously protective of their sovereignty. We can't just march an army into their territory."
"Then we don't march an army. We send a small diplomatic mission to request cooperation." I looked at my team. "Who speaks Southern dialect?"
Silence.
"Of course not. That would be too easy." I turned to Kael. "Your father has connections in the desert kingdoms, doesn't he?"
"He does. Specifically with Princess Zara al-Shams of the Crimson Sands Kingdom. They've been trading partners for years."
Princess Zara. The name tugged at my memory—someone I'd encountered in the previous timeline, though our interaction had been brief and unmemorable. She'd been neutral during most of the wars, only getting involved near the end.
"Can you arrange an introduction?"
"I can do better than that. I can arrange a formal diplomatic visit. You, me, and a small entourage. We request permission to investigate the ruins, offer to share any intelligence we gather, and build a relationship with the desert kingdoms."
"How long would this take?"
"Two weeks to arrange, one week to travel, maybe another week for negotiations and investigation. Call it a month total."
A month was a long time when the cultists were actively working. But charging in blind would be worse.
"Do it. Arrange the visit."
───
The journey to the Crimson Sands Kingdom took us through terrain that made the Northern operation look pleasant. Blazing heat during the day, freezing cold at night, and sand everywhere.
"I hate deserts," Sera complained, trying to get sand out of her armor for the hundredth time. "Give me a nice frozen wasteland any day."
"At least nothing's trying to kill us," Clara pointed out.
A sand viper chose that moment to strike at her from a dune. Nyx's dagger pinned it to the ground before it got close.
"You were saying?" Nyx asked dryly.
Our guides—desert nomads hired through Kael's contacts—found this hilarious. They seemed to take perverse pleasure in watching northerners struggle with the environment.
"First time in the deep desert?" our head guide, a grizzled man named Rashid, asked.
"That obvious?"
"You walk like you expect solid ground. Desert is never solid—it shifts, changes, tries to swallow the unwary." He grinned. "But you learn, or you die. Usually die."
"Encouraging."
"Truth is encouraging. Pretty lies kill."
I was starting to like him.
The Crimson Sands Kingdom's capital, Solara, appeared on the horizon like a mirage. Towers of red sandstone rising from the dunes, their surfaces covered in intricate geometric patterns that seemed to shift in the heat.
"It's beautiful," Aria breathed.
"It's defensible," Elara observed. "Limited approach routes, high walls, strategic positioning. Good military architecture."
"Can we appreciate both the aesthetics and the tactical advantages?" I suggested.
"I suppose."
We were met at the gates by palace guards in light armor designed for desert combat. They escorted us through streets bustling with merchants, travelers, and locals going about their daily business.
The palace was even more impressive up close—a massive complex of interconnected buildings surrounding a central courtyard with fountains and gardens that seemed impossible in this climate.
"How do they maintain all this vegetation?" Clara wondered.
"Oasis magic," Rashid explained. "Ancient techniques passed down from the Second Age. The desert kingdoms know water magic like no others."
We were shown to guest quarters and told Princess Zara would receive us after we'd had time to rest and refresh ourselves.
"She's making us wait," Kael observed. "Establishing that we're guests in her domain, subject to her schedule."
"Smart. I'd do the same." I looked at the luxury surrounding us—silk curtains, plush cushions, servants attending to every need. "Though I'd probably skip the hospitality. This is almost too comfortable."
"Enjoy it while it lasts. Desert negotiations can take days."
He wasn't wrong. We waited for three days before Princess Zara finally granted us an audience.
The throne room was a marvel of architectural engineering—high ceilings with clever ventilation that kept the space cool despite the desert heat, walls decorated with mosaics depicting ancient battles and legends, and at the center, a throne of carved sandstone inlaid with precious metals.
Princess Zara sat upon it with casual authority that suggested she'd been born to rule.
She was stunning. Dark hair in elaborate braids woven with gold thread, bronze skin that seemed to glow in the filtered sunlight, and dark eyes that missed nothing. She wore flowing desert silks in crimson and gold that managed to be both modest and alluring.
"Prince Kael Sunblade," she said, her voice rich and warm. "It's been too long since we've had royal visitors. And you've brought friends."
"Princess Zara." Kael bowed respectfully. "May I introduce Cain Ashford, leader of the Twilight Order, and his companions."
"Ah yes. The Twilight Order. I've heard much about your organization." Her gaze fixed on me, and I felt like I was being assessed by an expert appraiser. "The vagrant who defeated a prince in combat, won a grand tournament, and claims demons will invade our world. You've been busy."
"Your Highness is well-informed."
"I make it my business to know what happens beyond my borders. Especially when it involves groups claiming to prepare for apocalyptic invasions." She gestured, and servants brought forward cushions for us to sit. "Please. Be comfortable. Tell me why you've traveled so far to visit my humble kingdom."
Humble was not the word I'd use for this place, but I let it pass.
"We've detected unusual magical activity near the ruins of the Sun Palace," I said. "Rift signatures consistent with cult activity. We believe they're building another ritual site."
"In my territory. Without my permission." Her expression remained pleasant, but her eyes hardened. "That is... problematic."
"We'd like to investigate, with your blessing. Any intelligence we gather would be shared with your kingdom."
"How generous. And what do you want in return?"
"Your cooperation. Access to local guides who know the ruins. And ideally, your kingdom's support for the Twilight Order."
"You ask much for someone who has little to offer." She stood and descended from her throne, moving with predatory grace. "Why should I trust you, Cain Ashford? You're a northerner claiming knowledge of the future. You lead an organization that operates across borders without answering to any kingdom. You could be a conqueror hiding behind pretty words about saving the world."
"I could be," I admitted. "But I'm not. And I can prove it."
"Oh? How?"
"Let me show you what we're facing. Let me take you to one of the sealed rift sites. See the evidence yourself."
She studied me for a long moment. "You're either very confident or very foolish. The Sun Palace ruins are three days from here. Dangerous terrain, harsh environment. If you fail to prove your claims..."
"Then you can execute me as a charlatan and liar. Fair terms?"
"Cain—" Aria started, but I held up a hand.
"Fair terms," Zara agreed. "We leave at dawn. But I'm bringing my personal guard and my court mage. If this is a trap, you won't leave the desert alive."
"Understood, Your Highness."
After we were dismissed, my team gathered in my quarters.
"That was reckless," Elara said. "Offering to let her execute you if you can't prove yourself?"
"It was the only way to get her to take us seriously. She needed to see real stakes."
"Still reckless," Nyx agreed. "Though I admire the audacity."
"What if there's no active rift near the Sun Palace?" Clara asked. "What if the intelligence was wrong?"
"Then I improvise. Or die. One of those."
"Very reassuring," Aria muttered.
───
The journey to the Sun Palace ruins was exactly as miserable as advertised. Three days of intense heat, limited water, and landscape that wanted us dead.
Princess Zara handled it with effortless grace. She rode a desert horse—a breed adapted for extreme conditions—and looked completely at ease while the rest of us suffered.
"You're doing well," she said, riding beside me on the second day. "Most northerners don't last this long in the deep desert."
"I've experienced worse."
"Have you? Do tell."
"Frozen wastelands, void-corrupted fortresses, dimensional rifts that made reality scream. The desert is actually pleasant by comparison."
She laughed—a genuine, delighted sound. "You're strange, Cain Ashford. I can't decide if you're brilliantly insane or just very, very lucky."
"Probably both."
"I suspect you're right." She was quiet for a moment. "Tell me about these demons. The ones you say are coming. What are they like?"
I described them—Void Spawn, reality-bending horrors, creatures that fed on fear and corruption. I told her about the invasion I'd witnessed in my previous timeline, the cities that fell, the kingdoms that burned.
"And you've seen all this in visions?" she asked.
"In memories. From a life I lived that hasn't happened yet." I met her eyes. "I know how insane that sounds."
"It does sound insane. But..." She gestured at her court mage, riding behind us. "Master Khalid, tell our guest what you sense about him."
The court mage—an elderly man with a long white beard—urged his horse forward. "His magical signature is unusual, Your Highness. Layered, like two different souls occupying the same space. And there's darkness in it—old darkness, the kind that comes from experiencing horrors beyond normal comprehension."
"You see?" Zara said. "Either you're genuinely from another timeline, or you're the most elaborate fraud I've ever encountered. I'm leaning toward the former."
"Because?"
"Because a fraud would try to seem normal. You embrace your strangeness. That suggests authenticity, however uncomfortable."
We reached the Sun Palace ruins at sunset on the third day.
The palace had once been magnificent—a sprawling complex that housed thousands. Now it was broken stone and faded glory, half-buried by centuries of sand.
"The cult activity was reported here?" Zara asked.
"According to our intelligence. Nyx?"
"This way." Nyx led us deeper into the ruins, following tracks and signs invisible to everyone else. "Recent activity. Multiple people, moving with purpose. They were here within the last week."
We found it in what had once been the palace's central courtyard—a ritual circle, partially complete, with void energy still lingering in the air.
"By the Sun," Zara breathed. "What is this?"
"Void magic. Cultist work." I examined the circle carefully. "They're building an anchor point, just like the others. But this one's different—more complex. It's not just for opening rifts."
"Then what's it for?" Master Khalid asked, his professional curiosity overcoming his fear.
"I don't know. But it's big. Powerful. And they're close to completing it."
As if summoned by my words, reality tore.
A small rift opened in the center of the ritual circle, and something began to emerge. Not a full demon, just a hand—massive, covered in what looked like scales made of solidified darkness.
The hand grabbed at the edges of the rift, trying to pull itself through.
"Defensive positions!" I shouted.
Zara's guards formed a protective circle around her, but she pushed through them, her hands already glowing with fire magic.
"You want proof?" she called to me. "This is your chance to prove everything you've claimed!"
The hand was getting larger, pulling more of its body through. I could see an arm now, a shoulder, the suggestion of a massive head.
"Elara, ice magic! Freeze the rift edges!" I ordered. "Aria, light magic on the creature! Sera, ready for close combat if it gets through!"
We worked together with practiced efficiency. Elara's ice magic crystallized around the rift, making it harder for the creature to widen the opening. Aria's light magic burned the exposed flesh, making the demon recoil.
But it wasn't enough. The creature was too strong, too determined.
Zara joined us, her fire magic combining with Aria's light to create a devastating combination. "Tell me what to do!" she demanded.
"Maintain pressure on the creature! We need to drive it back before it fully manifests!"
"How?"
"Overload it with energy it can't absorb! Light, fire, ice—all at once!"
She understood immediately. "Master Khalid! Full power, now!"
The old mage added his own magic to ours—desert magic, sand and heat and ancient power. The combined assault was overwhelming.
The demon shrieked and withdrew, its hand releasing the rift edges. The tear in reality collapsed with a sound like breaking glass.
Silence fell over the ruins.
"By all the gods," Zara said, staring at where the rift had been. "It's real. It's all real."
"I told you."
"You did. But seeing..." She turned to me, her expression transformed from skepticism to grim determination. "The Crimson Sands Kingdom pledges its support to the Twilight Order. Whatever you need—troops, resources, territory—you have it."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that. I saw what almost came through. If there are more of those things, if they're really planning to invade..." She took a deep breath. "We need to be ready. All of us."
I'd won her over. More than that, I'd found an ally who understood the stakes viscerally, not just intellectually.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"Call me Zara. If we're going to fight demons together, formality seems excessive." She smiled, and there was something warm in it. "Besides, I suspect we'll be seeing much more of each other."
Aria cleared her throat pointedly.
Zara's smile widened. "I see. The Silver Saint is protective. How delightful."
This was going to be complicated.
But as we secured the ritual site and prepared to return to the capital, I couldn't help but feel we'd gained something important.
Not just an ally or a kingdom's support.
But someone who understood the threat on a fundamental level.
Someone who'd seen the darkness and chosen to fight anyway.
The Twilight Order was growing stronger.
One kingdom, one ally, one battle at a time.