The journey northward from Yavenga's Rise was slow and deliberate.
The land dipped into valleys carved by ancient rivers, dry now, leaving only dusty scars across the earth. Trees thinned into crooked clusters of thorny brush. The sky stretched wide and pale, a heavy canvas smeared with the faint promise of storms to come.
The group moved in silence for a time, Kazi leading, Rhazir slightly behind, Zuberi and Dakarai bringing up the rear.
There wasn't any tension amongst the group, but trust was also not as prevalent as well.
They were four bodies bound by a purpose none of them fully understood yet, and each step forward only deepened that uncertainty.
Zuberi adjusted the strap of his pack, glancing around the scrubland.
"You ever notice," he said quietly to Dakarai, "how the world goes quiet before something bad happens?"
Dakarai chuckled dryly. "In our world? Happens every few days."
Zuberi's expression stayed serious.
"Back before you found me," he continued, "after that message showed up in the valley... I started feeling it."
Dakarai looked sideways at him. "Feeling what?"
Zuberi's jaw tightened slightly.
"Like I wasn't alone. Like something was watching from the edges. No sound. No movement. It just felt like something was wrong."
Kazi, walking ahead, slowed to listen.
"You think it was the same person who left the message?" she asked without turning.
Zuberi nodded once. "Whoever left that warning, they weren't just passing through. They were sizing me up."
He paused.
"But they didn't step forward to test me."
Rhazir, walking several paces behind, spoke almost idly.
"Wise of them."
Zuberi's eyes flickered, catching the undercurrent in Rhazir's tone, but he said nothing.
They camped that night at the base of a broken ridge where water once carved deep gullies through the rock. The land offered little cover, but Zuberi said it was better to sleep where you could see your enemies coming.
They gathered around a low fire, the flames muted against the rising wind.
Kazi sat cross-legged, tossing a pebble from hand to hand absently. Dakarai leaned against a large stone, arms folded behind his head.
Zuberi squatted near the edge of the fire's light, hands tracing idle patterns into the dust with his fingertips; cracks forming and sealing under his touch, controlled and effortless.
"You two ever actually fought someone who knew what they were doing?" Zuberi asked casually.
Kazi raised a brow. "Define 'knew.'"
Zuberi smiled faintly. "Someone who wouldn't pull their punches. Someone who didn't stop when you begged."
Kazi's face stayed neutral. Dakarai's smile faded slightly.
Zuberi caught it and nodded to himself.
"Good," he said. "Because if you're planning to survive what's coming, you'll need to hit harder than that stag."
Kazi sat up straighter. "You offering to teach?"
Zuberi shrugged. "We could spar. Unless you're scared."
Dakarai grinned. "I'll sit this one out. Too late to be frying myself on rocks tonight."
He crossed his arms and leaned casually against a stone, sparks flickering lazily between his fingers as he watched.
They cleared a small space in the gully.
Kazi faced Zuberi to begin their sparring session, hands loose at her sides, the ember beneath her skin already stirring. Dakarai stood off to the side, arms crossed, sparks flickering lazily between his fingers.
Zuberi cracked his knuckles and sank into a low stance, steady, grounded, immovable.
"First rule," he said. "Don't hesitate to..."
Before Zuberi could finish, Kazi struck first.
A whip of fire lashed out, aiming for his shoulder. Zuberi pivoted smoothly, the flame curling past him as he stomped the ground, sending a ripple through the dirt. It knocked Kazi off balance just long enough for him to step inside her guard.
But Kazi was faster. She spun, sweeping low, flames spiraling around her leg.
Zuberi jumped, landing light on the balls of his feet, the earth under him hardening into a small platform that rose half a foot above the ground.
Dakarai laughed once, impressed despite himself.
"Okay, he's showing off," he said.
"My turn," Kazi said grimly.
She attacked harder now, bursts of flame accompanied by rapid strikes, forced Zuberi to defend with rolling earth shields that cracked and reformed with each impact.
For a moment, it was almost beautiful; flame dancing against stone, pressure and resistance, heat and weight.
Kazi launched a final burst toward his chest.
Zuberi caught it; literally.
He grounded himself and let the flame wash over his forearms, the Mark along his arm flaring bronze as the heat was absorbed into the earth itself.
Then he dropped the shield and nodded.
"Not bad," he said. "Your control's good. But you're still pulling your strikes."
Kazi scowled, breathing hard. "We're not trying to kill each other."
Zuberi smiled faintly. "That's the problem."
Later, after sparring shifted to sitting again, Dakarai joined Zuberi at the edge of the ridge.
"Why'd you stay up here so long?" Dakarai asked.
Zuberi shrugged, tossing a stone into the darkness.
"Out here, the only person I could hurt was myself."
Dakarai nodded slowly.
"I get that."
They sat in companionable silence, broken only by the soft crackle of the campfire.
Behind them, Kazi rested against a boulder, her Mark glowing faintly in the dark. Across the fire, Rhazir sat silent, always silent, his eyes half-lidded, but watchful.
As though he was waiting for something to happen.
Above them, the clouds twisted against the night, coiling like something alive.
And far away, much farther north, two figures watched the skies with different kinds of hunger.
One cloaked in violet mist.
The other cloaked in patience.