The next morning was a quiet, uneasy affair.

  Ebris and Lucette tried their utmost to smooth tensions. They greeted everyone with wide smiles, formally introduced Simon to Relia and Torben...then grimaced as their efforts fizzled out like embers smothered by a wintry snowstorm. Torben remained silent, and while Simon exchanged several terse words with Relia, that was all.

  It was for the best. Speaking with Relia would've invariably led to her questioning his supposed relation to Ardyn. Simon had prepared answers and stories over the past night, but the simplest way to pass an interrogation was to avoid it entirely.

  And it wasn't like he had any comforting platitudes to offer her, either. Not if he wanted to be honest about how he felt.

  'Ardyn? Yeah, he got what was coming to him. Those who live by the sword die by the sword, and those who enslave others shouldn't be surprised when karma arrives in the form of an oversized rodent. Besides, Stuart – that's what I call the rat, we're close – did everyone a favor by munching on that expedition. If Ardyn had actually made it to Caelryn Cave, he would've reached the bottom and found the Sealed Demon of Ruination. Probably sets Kirkelas free for some pocket change and a pat on the back. Anyone with the poor judgement to fall in love with you would *totally* make a deal with a devil.'

  Some opinions were better left unsaid.

  Ebris made breakfast for them. More broth. It was objectively delicious, and tasted like sandpaper on Simon's tongue. He ate it anyway to keep up appearances, acutely aware of Katarina glaring holes into the back of his skull.

  Her father was struggling. Gerold's eyes had lost their vigor, as if a milky haze was clouding his mind. Without food or water to sustain him, the man's illness was worsening by the hour.

  Simon did nothing. He merely went back to his cot alone, gathered what he needed, and bided his time.

  The carriages set off again. At some point they passed by Caelryn Cave. According to Ebris, it would be another two days or so until their procession reached Springwater Village. Relia had argued that they make a pit stop there; obviously to verify that Simon really was a resident, or expose him if he wasn't.

  Simon saw no reason to disagree. Matters would be settled long before then.

  At noon, their dual caravan stopped once more. Time for lunch. Lucette's turn to cook.

  She was just about to begin when Simon approached her.

  "Hey." He put on a hesitant, embarrassed tone, as if he'd been working up the nerve to speak all day. "Sorry for...sorry. Mind if I handle lunch? You guys keep making meals for me, and I haven't returned the favor, and...yeah."

  Lucette's smile was so broad that it outshone the midday sun. "That sounds delightful," she answered, seeing his offer as an attempt to mend bridges. "Doesn't need to be amazing. Whatever you can manage is fine."

  Simon did just that, largely copying the recipe he'd watched Ebris make at breakfast. Less chance of cooking something that people wouldn't eat. The main difference was that he went somewhat heavier on the spices – enough to mask the flavor, but without raising eyebrows. That was important.

  The four slavers ate without complaint. So did Simon. Ebris was sitting closest to him, while Lucette had positioned herself partway between him and Relia to act as a social buffer.

  He waited until everyone was halfway finished with their food before speaking up.

  "I'd like to know more." Simon faced Ebris and Lucette, assuming a neutral, non-judgemental tone. "How did your crew start up? When did Ardyn join?"

  Ebris nodded, seeming pleased that he was asking. "As I told you yesterday, we joined together fifteen years ago. Ardyn was a founder." He scratched his chin. "I suppose we began much like any other merchant crew does – by identifying a market that needed filling."

  "You weren't born into the trade? Or inducted into it by force? Or–"

  "It was our choice, Simon." Ebris winced, buried memories flickering in his expression. "If you knew the trials we'd endured before...it is no exaggeration to say that this was our salvation. As someone hailing from Springwater Village, you should be well-aware of the struggle that we commoners face."

  Two more commoners struggled behind him, writhing in their bindings, days away from being sold into a living hell – or just murdered out of convenience.

  Simon took a second to compose himself. Frontal assault won't work. He would never convince them to upend their entire way of life at the drop of a hat.

  Attack from the side. "I think that these two people are not unlike us," he remarked, gesturing towards Katarina and Gerold. "What if you went after people who were – for lack of better phrasing – more deserving? Like unrepentant murderers, or–"

  "Other slavers?" Torben interrupted. His fellow three 'merchants' flinched at the title, like it was something they'd agreed not to state so directly. "Would bring trouble on our heads," he continued. "You don't go after people that deserve it. You go after people that won't be missed."

  "Oh." Simon tapped his spoon against the side of his bowl, letting out a bit of pent-up energy. "And you're happy with...being you?"

  Lucette quickly chimed in, cutting off what Torben was about to say next. "Before forming the crew, we all walked different paths in different cities. None of our old vocations proved fruitful. Everyone here knows what it feels like to starve."

  A sharp edge entered her voice. "There simply aren't enough opportunities for lower-caste folk. Either you find a way to pander to the ones with coin, or you live in filthy, run-down hovels, eking out a miserable living in the hope that tomorrow will be less of an unrelenting slog. I can't go back to that, Simon. I won't. Not after experiencing what it means to be free and live well."

  She exhaled, pointing at Simon's bowl. "The meals you've enjoyed these past days wouldn't have been possible without our business."

  "Then why feed me?" he snapped. "I'm sure I'd fetch a fine price." It wasn't the right thing to say, but he couldn't stop himself. "Why not tie me up like those two?"

  "Because you're family," Lucette replied, without hesitating. "Ardyn's blood is our blood. When we first joined together, we made a vow to protect each other no matter the cost. It is an immutable law we hold above all others. The world may crumble, but we shall stand strong – as one."

  He forced himself to relax, integrating that new tidbit of knowledge into his plans. Was wondering why they were giving me so much leeway. They take the 'found family' thing even farther than I realized.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Familial loyalty. An admirable quality.

  And a prime weakness to be exploited.

  "That...sounds nice," Simon replied, as if contemplating the pros and cons. "How much do you get paid per–"

  "You aren't joining us," Relia spat.

  "Relia," Lucette admonished. "He's–"

  "He's angling to release the cargo. Don't you see it in his eyes? This fraud of a Cobblestone will shake our hands, swear our vows – then let easy gold walk free like he'd tossed coins down the gutter."

  Ebris frowned at her. "And we'll be there to stop him," he said, admitting that he was aware of at least part of Simon's plan. "The boy is young. He doesn't understand just yet. Remember that it took us some time to grow accustomed to the business as well."

  "But why bother with him? Even if you're willing to overlook his duplicity, he doesn't need to stay here and ruin a good thing. He can just go back to being a beggar at Springwater, or whatever he was."

  "You've answered your own question. A member of our family – because that's what he is – deserves better than hunger and poverty. I want to give him a comfortable life while we still can."

  Simon blinked. "...While you still can?"

  The four slavers simultaneously averted their gazes. None of them could look him in the eye.

  A solid five seconds had gone by before Ebris sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Tell me, Simon – did the land around Springwater used to appear more vibrant?"

  He had no idea, though the context was clear. "I think so. It's tough to remember everything from when I was a kid, but I'm pretty sure there was more green back then."

  "Just so. This may be difficult for you to believe, yet when I was a child, plants weren't so uncommon as this. When my father was a child, there was even more. When his father was a child...you see where I'm going with this. As the years go by, our land shrivels like fruit baking under the sun. Only one conclusion can be gleaned from this pattern."

  Ebris laced his fingers together, his legs twitching with repressed emotion. "In three decades or less, all life on Valtia's Severed Isles shall be depleted."

  Simon froze. For a brief moment he forgot about the plan, his mind filled with visions of empty towns and overflowing graveyards. He knew that the purpose of transmigration was to rescue doomed worlds, but hearing a line like that from a Valtian native...kinda hit different.

  "Hold on," he said. "Maybe places like Springwater will disappear, but I thought cities like Caelryn were–"

  "Surviving. For now. They choose to ignore what is already transpiring at distant villages, as that is their luxury. By the time this pattern reaches them, it will be too late to reverse it. Duke Helmund will have drained the Severed Isles of every drop of mana and life."

  Duke Helmund. The same ruler that Kirkelas had blamed for Valtia's decline.

  Apparently, the Demon had been truthful about that much.

  A wry, humorless grin inched up Ebris' face. "Few people would agree with my conclusion. Openly, at any rate. It is far too harrowing for them to accept. Yet...notice how my compatriots do not raise their voices in dissent. Us four have traveled far and wide while conducting business, and we've witnessed what is happening to these lands with our very own eyes."

  His gaze deadened to a look of sunken fatalism. "The pattern cannot be ignored."

  Simon recalled something that Voice-In-The-Sky had foretold. Both an explanation...and a premonition.

  'Without its champion's strength, all life on Valtia shall vanish within the span of one year.'

  Ebris was right about the impending apocalypse. He'd just gotten the timeline wrong.

  "Your heart breaks for them," the slaver continued, pointing towards Katarina and Gerold. "I understand. We were like you, once. You imagine the pain they will suffer, and seek to rescue them from their fate."

  He shrugged. It seemed forced. "But what does it matter? They'll be dead in decades regardless. The man's best years are behind him, and even if the girl escaped, she wouldn't live a full life before everything falls apart. They're worth more as a bag of coins with which to ease our burdens."

  Simon clenched his fists. "Nothing is certain. You said that Duke Helmund is responsible. He's just a man – he can be stopped."

  Relia burst out laughing. "Just a MAN? By the Ancient One, you are confident in yourself. I'd be envious if it wasn't so absurd."

  She waved a dismissive hand at him. "By all means. Join the Hurricane. Throw yourself at Helmund like the rest of those suicidal fools. It won't change anything. Might as well try summoning the rain while you're at it."

  Looking from person to person, Simon found only stares of pity reflected back at him. They believed he was naive; an uncut stone in the midst of being tempered by the harshness of reality. Without evidence to the contrary, his assertions were seen as no more than deluded ramblings.

  And even if he told them everything he knew...even if he suddenly shot up to Level 1000, teleported to Duke Helmund, and assassinated him on the spot...

  They still wouldn't change their ways. Not when it had benefited them for so long already.

  Their fatalism was real and genuine. That didn't mean it wasn't an excuse.

  "You can't care for everyone, Simon," Ebris said, his voice low. "Pick some people – then hold onto them with all you've got. Forget the rest. They aren't your concern."

  Simon's posture sagged. "That's just how it is?"

  "That's just how it is."

  Of course.

  He could trick a god. He could defraud a Demon.

  But he couldn't teach empathy to those who failed to comprehend its value.

  Ebris lightly coughed into his hand. Like a flipped switch, Simon sat up straighter. The signal had been given – it was time to get this show on the road.

  As if things could have ended any other way. He'd known they wouldn't listen to him. From start to finish, this whole conversation had been an indulgence on his part. It wasn't necessary for the plan to succeed.

  Yet...he'd needed to try. Ebris and Lucette had earned that much from him.

  "For what it's worth, I agree with you on one thing." Simon softened his tone. "No one can save everyone. Even if you don't go out of your way to hurt people, we're still bound by our inherent limitations. Give one charity a hundred dollars, and that's money you can't donate to another. Kindness is often a zero-sum game."

  He glanced over. "And at the end of the day...we all need to make a choice."

  Ebris was in the middle of replying when a summoned longsword slashed his throat open.