Chapter 24

  The Lost One

  “This is the girl?” one of the priests stepped forward, he had a weathered voice like wind through an old canyon. “Our lost one?”

  “I’m not lost!” Maia bristled, her fists clenching.

  The priest didn’t flinch. Instead, he studied her with a measured gaze, his hands clasped in front of him. Around him, nearly a dozen others shifted subtly, their attention fixed on her. The flickering torchlight made their expressions unreadable.

  “You do not know what you are,” he said, his words tinged with a strange mixture of pity and reverence. “That is why you are lost, child.”

  “Relax, Maia,” Kallira gave her an easy smile walking towards the group. “This is Father Orahn,” she gestured to the priest. “He’s the one that has been helping our kind.” Kallira then turned to the rest of the group. “Everyone, this is Maia. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s one of us.”

  “I’m not one of you,” Maia fired back.

  “You’re a scrav,” Kallira said, her tone not unkind, “and so are we.”

  “You’re Verdant scravs,” she didn’t mean to say it like an accusation but it came out that way all the same.

  “The Verdant abandoned them,” Father Orahn interjected, his face kindly. “They may have been created through a corrupted means, but they are still Sacred Vessels.”

  “Sacred Vessels?” Maia repeated.

  “That is what scravs were once known as,” Orahn explained, his voice reverent, as though speaking of something holy. “Sacred Vessels of the Archons, imbued with great power to fulfill the will of the gods. The Fatebond was not always a thing of fear. It was revered, celebrated. Often, only one person in a generation would be blessed with such a divine connection. It was only during the war, when the Archons were desperate, that they began to anoint more Sacred Vessels to fight the invaders.”

  “But they’re Verdant scravs,” Maia argued, her eyes darting to the group behind him. “Aren’t they your enemies?”

  “The Verdant are gone,” Orahn said simply. “These people are lost, adrift in a world that no longer knows what to do with them. Their gifts—divine or otherwise—still bind them to this planet, to us. They are as much a part of this world as you or I.”

  “But their Fatebonds,” Maia frowned, her gaze on the rugged group of scravs. They didn’t look much different to her. Just like regular mercenaries from the wastes. “Aren’t they… I don’t know, against what the Archons wanted?”

  “I do not believe that they are,” Orahn shook his head, “at least not anymore. I believe that the Archons wanted me to help them. They are still here, are they not? Their power binds them to this world. Making them invested in it.”

  That did spark something in Maia. How come all these Verdant scravs were still alive? Were their Fatebonds not tied to the war? She looked to Kallira.

  “Your Fatebond,” she ventured, “do you… do you know what it is?”

  “Of course I do,” Kallira replied, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “All scravs do.”

  “All of them are still alive,” Orahn said, gesturing to the scravs around him. “Their Fatebonds couldn’t have been tied to the war. If they were, they’d all be gone. We must believe that they are the key to saving our world.”

  “Saving it?”

  “Our world is dying, child,” Orahn continued, his tone heavy with sorrow. “The land turns to desert. The seas rage uncontrollably. The heavens shattered. To the north, the snow falls so thickly it has buried entire kingdoms beneath its weight. The balance has been lost.”

  Maia’s stomach churned. She’d heard this kind of talk before. People were always looking for the answer to why the world was dying.

  “You still haven’t told me why you brought me here,” Maia said, turning to Kallira.

  “To teach you,” Kallira replied, her smirk fading. “You’ve been stumbling in the dark, letting your father keep you ignorant. It’s time you understood what Fatebonds really are.”

  “And what are they?” Maia snapped, her frustration bubbling over. “What’s this great truth I’m supposed to know?”

  “A divine purpose,” Orahn interjected calmly.

  “That is what Father Orahn believes. But we know that our Fatebonds are shaped by our own perception. All of us here have learned this truth. We’re still alive, aren’t we? Fatebonds don’t kill us unless we truly accept that they cannot be fulfilled. Only once we have fully given up. I choose to keep living. I choose to believe that mine can be fulfilled.”

  “And what is yours?”

  “I was given my Fatebond in the final days of the war,” Kallira held her head up, as if in pride. “The Verdant Generals could see there was something wrong with this planet. My purpose has always been clear to me. I must ensure the revival of this planet.”

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  “The Verdant hijacked the Archon’s Fatebond mechanisms,” Kallira went on, “this is how we were created. We were created the same way that Archon scravs were created. The same way that you were. Our souls were imprinted with a Fatebond, and linked to the source of power on this world. The same source for the Archon’s power. You’ve seen it yourself. The Fatebond Anchor at Cassix station is a link to it. We might not have been born on this world, but we are connected to it. And we must save it.”

  “That still doesn’t explain how I come into all of this?” Maia said, her voice laced with skepticism.

  “Because you’re like us,” Kallira replied, stepping closer, her gaze intense. “You too are connected to this world. I can see the threads of power flowing through you. It’s one of our gifts as Sacred Vessels. And I can teach you how to see them.”

  Maia hesitated, searching Kallira’s face for deception. She crossed her arms, unsure if she wanted to trust this woman.

  “What threads?” Maia asked.

  Kallira smirked, then lifted a hand. “Close your eyes.”

  “What?”

  “Close your eyes, Maia. Trust me.”

  With a huff, Maia complied, though her body remained tense. She didn’t trust Kallira, not completely, but curiosity outweighed caution. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Now breathe,” Kallira instructed. Her voice was low, calm, almost hypnotic. “Slowly. Deep in through your nose… hold it… and let it out.”

  Maia reluctantly followed the instructions, her breaths coming slow and measured. The air felt cooler now, the sounds of the temple growing distant.

  “Good,” Kallira continued. “Now focus. Not on what you see, but on what you feel. The faint vibrations around you, the hum of energy beneath the surface. It’s everywhere, Maia, if you just listen.”

  Maia furrowed her brow, trying to tune in to whatever Kallira was talking about. At first, there was nothing—just the steady rhythm of her own breathing. But then, as she focused deeper, she felt it. A faint, pulsing resonance, like the thrum of a distant drumbeat. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

  “Do you feel it?” Kallira’s voice was soft, coaxing.

  “...Maybe,” Maia murmured.

  “Good. Now, keep your focus on that sensation and open your eyes—slowly.”

  Maia obeyed, her eyelids fluttering open. At first, everything looked the same—the dim torchlight, the crumbling murals, the gathered group watching her intently. But then, as her gaze adjusted, faint lines of shimmering light began to take shape. They were faint, almost ghostly, weaving through the air like threads of silk.

  “I… I see them.”

  Kallira nodded, her satisfaction evident. “There they are. These are the threads that connects our Fatebonds, our power, to this world. This is what your father has been hiding from you.”

  Maia stared at the glowing threads in awe. They pulsed and danced in the air, faint but unmistakable. Some flowed from her to the ground. Others from the other scravs, to the ground and to each other. They looked like the same threads that appeared when she was drawing out the life essence of plants.

  She reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing against one. She coouldn’t feel it her hand passing through.

  “I’ve… seen something like this before,” she admitted. Although it had been her overlays showing them to her. “When I used my drain abilities.”

  “That’s impressive. It took me years of training before I could see the threads of my own power. And longer still before I could see others. Your own power is easier to see. Can you see my threads?”

  “Yes,” Maia replied but that she was speaking she was loosing her breathing rhythm and her focus on the threads was faltering. They began to fade from her perception.

  “But what does it all mean?” Maia asked. “How are you supposed to balance the planet, or whatever?”

  Kallira gestured for Maia to follow her, leading her to a table in the corner of the temple. A sprawling map was spread across its surface, worn and patched together like the remnants of a forgotten age. It was a post-war map, stripped of borders—no Lindrao, no Sanjura, no nations at all. Just fragmented city-states surrounded by endless wasteland.

  “We’ve been mapping the Fatebond Anchors in the region,” she leads Maia over to a table where a map of the wastes was laid out. It was clearly made after the war as it no longer had the nation borders of Lindrao, Sanjura or any other neighbouring countries outlined on it. There were no borders anymore. Just city states and wasteland in between.

  “We’ve been mapping the Fatebond Anchors in the region,” Kallira said, tracing her finger across the parchment. It stopped at a point that made Maia’s mouth drop a little. To her surprise it was the very same location the Arcanum system had revealed to her earlier. The point that all of the Fatebond Anchors were connected to.

  “We believe the source of everything is here,” she pointed at a point on the map and to Maia’s surprise it’s the same point the Arcanum system had revealed to her earlier.

  “I don’t believe the Archons sacrificed themselves in vain,” Father Orahn spoke up, his voice heavy with conviction. “I cannot! They knew something we didn’t. They fought and fell defending this very spot. I believe this is where the Archons made their last stand against the Verdant. And I believe it’s where everything begins and ends.”

  “We’re going there,” Kallira said, her tone leaving no room for doubt. Her sharp eyes fixed on Maia. “And I want you to come with us.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because you’re important,” Kallira said simply. “In the same way that I instinctively know my Fatebond, I know that you’re a key part of this. At that place, I believe you’ll reach your true potential. Something is limiting you, Maia. Part of it is your father, but there’s something else too.”

  “My father?” Maia’s voice sharpened. “What are you talking about?”

  “He has been drawing from you Maia. I know his power set. He has no inherent power source to draw from. He draws from you. Your Life Essence. This is what feeds his power.”

  “That’s a lie,” Maia’s jaw tightened. “My father wouldn’t do that.”

  “Look for yourself.” Kallira’s voice was calm but insistent. “Yo can see the threads now. Look for his. You’ll see the tether he’s placed on you.”

  Maia’s chest tightened, her fists clenching at her sides. She didn’t want to believe it, but a seed of doubt had already planted itself. “And if I come with you?” she asked, her voice low. “What happens then? I… I don’t know what my Fatebond even is.”

  “We break the limiter. Once that’s gone, everything will become clear,” Kallira said, her tone almost soft. “You’ll finally see what your Fatebond is meant to be. You’ll see your true self.”

  “I… I don’t know,” Maia hesitated, her thoughts tangling. Part of her was drawn to the answers they were offering, the clarity she had longed for. But another part screamed to stay. She had just arrived in Lindrao. She hadn’t even seen Kyra yet. And her father… Furious didn’t even begin to cover what he’d feel if she ran off with a group of Verdant scravs.

  Kallira seemed to sense her inner conflict. “We’re not leaving for a few days,” she said, stepping back. “Think about it, Maia. The offer stands. I would love for you to join us. The truth waits for no one, but it’s always there when you’re ready to see it.”