Alphonse gazed out at the silent street of the eastern district. He gripped the thin iron pendant around his neck in a poor attempt to stop his trembling hands. He wrapped the chain around his fingers and stared at the letters etched into the simple piece: 'E.K.A.'

He never imagined such a small trinket could ever hold so much significance. He'd never been attached to material things, unless they had some function meant for survival. The cool iron of the chain imprinted itself on his palm as his grip tightened.

Sitting through the rest of the conversation with Anya and her group had drained what little reserves of energy he had left. He wanted nothing more than to collapse in bed and wake up to convince himself it was all a dream. Even if he did manage to make his way back to the Guild Union, he felt that he would spend the rest of the evening staring at the empty sky, wondering what his small place was in a world piled with so many conspiracies.

It was as if he was stuck on a train at full speed, barreling down the predetermined tracks with destiny's turns laid out before him.

He was grateful for Kirie and Asa. Even with the mention of their mother's name they remained optimistic. They welcomed his assurances with open minds. He was convinced that Rinka had nothing to do with this man who spoke of True Equivalence.

He cursed himself for his shortsightedness. He'd always assumed that there might be others with a Construct Contract besides Rinka. There was a mindset of exclusivity that settled in when something drastically separated a person from others. For him, it had been the contract, even though he really hadn't used it much for its intended purposes, and he certainly didn't know where those purposes led.

Anya and company had left shortly after their mention of the catgirl mother. Some more light banter followed as they tried to alleviate the serious discussion, but it had long passed the point of no return. There were going to be more talks later on, and Alphonse knew that if he wanted some of these people in his confidence, then he would have to reveal some secrets to them.

The other party had respectfully taken the hint as the atmosphere remained tense. When they departed, Alphonse made it a point to give only Anya a look that told her he would explain everything in due time. He was grateful when she didn't question him further, but she did implore him to visit the Guild Union the next day so they could talk more.

Alphonse released the chain that had now started to cut off his blood flow. The gift from Reiko spun a few times, and he replaced it back around his neck.

“Rinka isn't involved,” Alphonse said quietly.

Kirie and Asa stood behind him. They waited for him to speak further, but he opted to stare into the darkness outside the tea shop.

“We know that,” Asa answered.

“She would never involve herself with someone like that,” Kirie said.

Alphonse saw their faint reflections in the window, contrasted by the faint light in the tea shop. The catgirls didn't raise their eyes from the floor as they spoke.

Alphonse stared at them and forced a look of confidence and conviction. They lifted their heads as they felt his gaze on them.

He was about to speak when he noticed Ash and Kureha standing a few feet behind them. Ash rested against the counter with an arm propped casually behind her, while Kureha stood next to her with hands clasped and shoulders hunched.

There's no dancing around this now, Alphonse reasoned. But I always knew there was no way we could survive in this world alone.

He returned his attention to the catgirls. “What are your thoughts?” Alphonse asked.

Kirie and Asa looked at each other at a loss. Their mouths opened and closed, but the words seemed to catch short.

Alphonse tilted his head quizzically. “Um, your thoughts?”

“R-right,” Kirie stuttered. “It's just that, you've never asked for our opinion like this before.”

“Wait, really?” Alphonse asked after a slight pause.

“Well, you do when we're planning for battles and quests,” Asa said. “But you usually have a clear sight in the broader sense.”

“Yeah, you always have an end goal for us,” Kirie added. “It just seems to work out that way, I guess.”

Alphonse thought about it and found that they were right. He couldn't think of a time where he asked them about direct consequences involving the guild. Sure, they knew about his dream to continue building GRIM into a home for them, but nothing else outside of that. They chose quests and battle tactics for survival and efficiency out of necessity. It wasn't that he was privy to some inner workings and specifics to reach said goal. He just never really considered their feelings in regards to the journey as a whole.

“Sorry,” he said. He scratched at his head awkwardly and averted his gaze.

“Don't be sorry,” Kirie said. “We never thought about asking either.”

“I'm guessing you at least have the start of a plan,” Asa surmised.

Alphonse nodded at her observation. “Yes, as always. But I would like my two lieutenants to affirm it for me.”

“That's right, we're lieutenants!” Kirie said. She puffed her chest out with an air of importance. “So this is an official guild meeting!”

Asa tapped the end of her staff against her sister's head. “Your mood swings won't garner respect when you have subordinates.”

Kirie pouted. “I can be scary.”

“That's not the same thing,” Asa countered. “It is a method.”

Images of Kirie in fierce combat flashed through Alphonse's head. Blood splattering. That dangerous weapon of hers hacking limbs. The thrill in her eyes as she conquered her foes.

Yup, she can be pretty scary, he concluded.

“South,” Asa said simply.

Alphonse stared at her for a moment and waited for her to continue, but she waited for him to voice his own assessment before choosing to elaborate.

“You think we should get as far away from here as possible,” he said.

Asa nodded. “Exactly. We should regroup. We ascertain who our enemies are through other connections and distance ourselves to where they have less influence.”

Alphonse breathed a relieved sigh. If they were on the same page, then it made his next plan of action much simpler. Contacting Field Master Jin Hanlon would be the next order of business. His reasons for getting out of the city involved the influence of the High Council, and Jin had already mentioned that there were people watching his guild. Ruslin also didn't seem to care much for the High Council, and a few choice words from the warrior suggested that information about the ogres might push them to take more aggressive action. The best choice was to leave the city until things quieted down a bit, and Jin would be the best source of intelligence when he left. Whether Alphonse took his information at face-value was still up for debate, but at least having the possibility of someone with eyes and ears in the city while he was gone could prove to be invaluable. It was also an opportunity for Ruslin to repay his self-imposed debt.

What he wanted more than anything was to head back west to confront Rinka about what this mysterious individual meant about True Equivalence, and why he knew her name.

He recalled how sincere and earnest she was about freeing her daughters from the Submerged Oasis. If there was an insurmountable threat that she knew of, would she really have sent her daughters into the thick of it? He couldn't bring himself to believe it. But then again, he knew so little about the catgirl mother.

“So, you'll head for La'abrine?” Ash asked. The fox woman gave him a contemplative look.

“Yes, it will be easier to blend in,” Alphonse said. “And it won't come as a surprise to anyone either. I'm sure there's plenty of work we can find.”

Ash glanced to the side for a moment and pursed her lips as she seemed to consider something. After brief deliberation, she stepped around the counter and disappeared when she crouched down.

She reappeared with a sealed envelope and held it out to him. “Would you deliver this for me? Since you'll be in the area.”

Alphonse stared at the letter intently for a moment. He noticed that the seal wasn't just some ordinary imprinted wax. A half circle with two waving lines at the center took up one side, while something he couldn't quite make out was impressed on the bottom.

He took the letter. “Not a problem.”

Ash smiled. “I won't force you to explain anything about the meeting, as long as you don't ask about this.”

Alphonse returned the grin. “Fair enough. Looks like I weaseled out of that one.”

“We'll have a heart to heart one day. How about over some tea? My treat.”

“I'll hold you to that.”

Kureha stepped up next to Ash. She lifted a hand and opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted as a slight tremor crawled along the floor of the tea shop.

Everyone in the room froze and stared at each other uncertainly as the shaking subsided. A cup resting on the edge of a table clattered to the floor. A feeling of dread welled in Alphonse's stomach as a final quake vied for their attention.

Alphonse turned and saw Asa standing outside on the porch in front of the tea shop. She stared upwards and her eyes widened.

"There's smoke," she said.

---

Evelyn fell into a side roll as a sweltering heat manifested near her shoulder. An orb of fire filled the space she resided in a split-second earlier and launched trails of embers in a multitude of directions. The orb caved in on itself and spread outwards with a force that pushed Evelyn out of her stumbling stance. She tripped over the barrier surrounding one of the smaller, empty fountains that bordered the plaza and fell back on her rear.

She regained her bearings and noticed the brief sheen that crawled up her body as her own full body protection spell took some of the impact.

More heat threatened her back as she lay staring at a now starless sky. She planted her hands on the ground and formed a protection spell along the stone to quell the licking flames that formed underneath her.

The air distorted a few feet above her just as she started to rise.

Sonuvabitch!

She pointed her dagger at where she thought was the center of the roiling air and split the orb of flames that partially formed. It spread apart horizontally at the dagger's tip and launched into the surrounding buildings. A quick incantation focused at Evelyn's feet pushed her back with wind magic. As she reached the edge of the fountain she went into a backwards roll and whipped her feet through the air to build momentum. She landed on the opposite side of the courtyard with her dagger pointed forward to intercept another fireball. One of the orbs on the dagger's handle beat an angry red after issuing the defense against the elemental magic.

Evelyn twirled the dagger in her hand and prepared another delayed spell on the flat of the blade.

Her opponent, the strange man in the heavy spellcaster robes, lifted his head in admiration. “Oh dear, a spellcaster with ample combat experience. Impressive, but unfortunate.” He stepped to the other side of the central fountain in an attempt to approach her blind side. Evelyn mirrored his pace to keep him directly in front of her.

Who the hell is this guy? she thought desperately.

She focused on his mana essence. A cerulean aura surrounded his body. It traveled to his hands, feet and head, cycling in equal proportions. Throughout the whole battle it didn't seem like his mana pool had emptied even a fraction. Seven fire spells, and he still managed to maintain an absurd amount.

The spellcaster stopped to regard the book in his hand. The pages turned as he shifted his eyes. The orange hue emitting from his hand morphed to a lime green. He curled his fingers, and a thin length of light extended outwards from his hand a few feet to either side. It burst in the traditional cloud of particles to reveal a plain staff. There didn't seem to be anything remarkable about the weapon itself, but a series of scripted characters gyrated around its center of mass.

Evelyn didn't recognize the runes. They seemed to be a mix of symbols and letters of the common language, but the structure made no sense to her. The weapon itself also looked more like a basic bo staff rather than one wielded by spellcasters.

The only thing that saved Evelyn in that next second was the instinctual twitch of her combat instincts. She tilted her head to the side and felt a sharp sting along her cheek. A wetness crawled down to her chin.

What? She slowly looked to the side and saw the staff less than a centimeter from her face. Her eyes darted behind her to observe the end of the weapon embedded into one of the buildings. Large cracks trailed from the point of impact, like a spider's web ready to trap her. The thought stimulated her senses and she propelled herself to the side. She nearly fell over from her own sudden movement as the staff retracted back to its normal length.

The spellcaster on the other side of the courtyard twirled the weapon through his fingers. He assumed a basic front stance with his leading leg bent and back leg straight. One hand held the orange book, while the other held the staff in front of him at chest height.

He frowned and clacked his tongue with dissatisfaction. “Troublesome. Perhaps you might have been useful in the dungeon.”

“The dungeon? The hell are you talking about?” Evelyn gritted her teeth and prepared another spell. Hopefully, the man would be distracted by conversation. Every bit of mana regeneration counted. After all, it didn't seem like he shared this problem. They were also making plenty of noise, and she didn't want the guards or other people showing up who could identify her. She wondered where Altham Volkest's men were hiding. They must've been nearby since the tea shop wasn't too far.

Evelyn didn't need to think about it too long. The battle had only lasted a couple minutes, but if they hadn't shown up by now, then they either retreated to inform a superior or were most likely incapacitated. She settled on the latter.

The man tilted his head at her question. “Lamfell, of course. The adventurers must finish the dungeon I revealed. Much evil lurks within. It desires the wrong equivalence.”

His words sank in. Slow. If what he said was true, he was responsible for the destruction of that village. He'd stolen hundreds of lives. And he did this because he wanted adventurers to complete the dungeon – to stop whatever lurked inside.

“You did that...” Evelyn said.

The man nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes. It was quite an ordeal. Many catalysts were indoctrinated to activate the old Dysian devices. But it is all for the sake of True Equivalence.” His wrist turned as he spoke, and Evelyn didn't fail to notice the subtle movement.

Evelyn's palms bled as her nails dug into the skin. “I'm getting sick of your 'True Equivalence' bullshit.” She thrust her fist forward and shouted, “Unbound Pyre!”

An arc of flames shot from her hand and focused on the other spellcaster's chest. He brought his book behind him, let go of the staff and brought the empty, bladed hand down to slice the flames in half. The two shortened arcs spread for a brief second before sputtering out.

An angry crimson formed beneath the spellcaster's feet and widened into a circle about five feet in diameter. Evelyn raised the hand holding the dagger, and a pillar of dark flames rose to consume the other spellcaster's form. Needle-thin lines of purple and tongues of white flame curled outside the raging pillar's form and made a motion as if stabbing into its sides. The base of the pillar exploded outwards to double its size.

Evelyn focused on the growing section of her spell and initiated the next part of her incantation, “Second layer, Bound Pyre-” Evelyn's body jerked before she could finish, and a heavy thunk sounded behind her. She stared at nowhere in particular as the pain slowly registered. She wobbled on her feet and clutched at her side. A quiet curse formed on her lips when she raised her hand and recognized the splotches of red marring her palm.

Her eyes were then drawn to the spot where her spell withered away. Standing amidst the blackened cobblestones and scarred statues was the mysterious spellcaster. There wasn't a single blemish on his body to indicate that the spell had inflicted any damage. His robes had been burned to oblivion by the spell to reveal his simple leather armor. A number of glowing, white symbols pulsed on the surface of his attire.

So many delayed spells! Evelyn momentarily forgot about the pain in her side as she beheld the impossible sight. Dozens upon dozens of powerful prepared spells were inscribed upon his armor. Not only was he maintaining a regenerative full body protection spell, but he was also feeding a ridiculous number of delayed spells.

She'd lowered her defenses for a brief moment during her spell, but even with complete attentiveness there was no way she would have been able to anticipate the spellcaster's tactics. She would have found the notions absurd if she hadn't witnessed it for herself.

She didn't even need to look. The renewed pain was enough. Impaled through her right side propping her up was the extended staff that the man had dropped. Sticking out of the staff at an angle was another length of jagged wood that sprouted like a malformed bone. This piece extended a few feet and stuck out of her thigh.

The man didn't drop the staff just to leave his hand free. He had performed three spells simultaneously. One rendered her fire spell completely ineffective, while the second focused on offense as the staff dropped from his hand and extended to its impossible length. The third must have delayed the weapon's fall with wind magic or minor levitation. The timing had been perfect.

She'd thought he was simply an exceptional spellcaster with an abnormal mana pool. That was certainly bad enough news. But now she knew that this man was something entirely outside everything she'd been taught about magic.

“Y-you're not human,” Evelyn gasped. Her hand gripped the staff and made a weak, pointless tug. She stared down as her life's blood seeped from the puncture near her stomach. A heat rose in her throat. After a bit of resistance, a spray of red bile forced from her mouth and splattered at her feet. She forced herself to stay straight as a bout of hyperventilation racked her lungs.

The man let out another one of his regretful sighs and shook his head. “I am sorry. Truly. But you left me with little options.”

Evelyn watched with bleary eyes as the spellcaster lifted his book and began turning the pages with his eyes again. The staff pulled from her body and returned to its normal length in the spellcaster's hand. Blood spewed from the wound and expanded the puddle already formed at Evelyn's feet.

She took a few sliding steps forward before her legs gave out. She landed heavily on her knees and remained propped up awkwardly with her hands resting on the cobblestones.

Through some last act of sheer will, she lifted her hand and rested it over the spot where the inside pocket of her robe held the letter entrusted to her.

No- The start of the thought cut off as something in her body ruptured. More blood spurt from the fatal wound, and the warmth crawled down her chin. She fell to the side and her head hit the cold ground. She only knew that she was lying down as the world seemed to tilt up on its side.

Some say that a person's life flashes before her eyes when nearing Death's embrace. If that were true, then Evelyn supposed there wasn't much left in her life that held much significance. She had no family to share in her brief moments of delight and success. Her days at the university were lonely with forgettable, inconsequential moments. The old grouch, Bevka, was the only one who understood her among their fellow spellcasters.

It was a short list, but what she really wanted was to make life more bearable for the person she failed all those years ago.

Evelyn watched as the other spellcaster took a step forward and pointed the staff in her direction.

The pained tears crawling down her face mixed with the blood. Jin...I'm sorry...

A flash of black smoke suddenly consumed the other spellcaster's book and half of his arm. He stared with wide, sunken eyes at the space obscured by the black cloud. He wrenched his hand free and examined his empty hand. He ran a slow gaze around the plaza, seemingly unconcerned with the absence of his book. The end of the staff that was meant to finish Evelyn stuck from the ground a few feet in front of him. He didn't even seem to notice.

His eyes searched lazily around the courtyard until they settled somewhere on the other side of the fountain. The edges of the decimated stone obscured Evelyn's view, but she could only assume that the book had been knocked out of his hand and landed somewhere nearby.

The spellcaster started to move forward but only managed a single step when a black mass fell from somewhere amidst the equally black sky. The impact formed a plume of billowing dust that forced the spellcaster to recoil slightly. A crouched figure wearing basic leather armor occupied the space a few feet in front of him.

“Interesting,” the spellcaster muttered. “My wards didn't detect either of you.”

He stepped aside as a spear of rock exploded out the side of one of the buildings and showered them in debris. The spellcaster firmly planted his feet as he slid along the ground and halted about a dozen feet away.

The powerful magic-wielder's eyes narrowed as he observed his new opponent. “That isn't magic,” he said. A bit of vehemence traced his words.

The newcomer rose from his low crouch and removed the hood that concealed thick, curly white hair. The side of his face was entirely covered in what appeared to be tattoos. He lifted a pale hand covered in similar markings and clawed his fingers. The other held a spherical object that ticked like a sped up clock. Many pouches hung from intertwined belts around his waist, and his chest and arms were dotted with attached leather carriers of various sizes.

The white-haired man glanced over his shoulder to regard Evelyn and motioned with his free hand in her direction. “See to her,” he said.

An instant later, Evelyn felt a gust of wind press against her. A figure wearing similar attire, with daggers mostly replacing the pouches, appeared like an apparition next to Evelyn on one knee. In the person's hand was a short, wide-bladed weapon in the shape of a leaf. The other hand held a vial of some unknown red substance. A white mask with thin slits near the eyes looked down at her.

The masked woman didn't say a word as she pulled the cork off the bottle and splashed the contents around Evelyn's wounds. She fought to suppress a scream as a scorching pain enveloped the area. Her unknown savior made a number of finger signs and pressed her hands around where the staff had pierced Evelyn's side. From a concealed area under her sleeve near the wrist, a strange device shot a needle outwards and stuck into the fleshy insides of the wound. The piercing pain this time almost drove Evelyn to unconsciousness. Numbness soon took over, followed by a tingling sensation akin to a limb falling asleep. There was no longer any hurt, and she detected the acrid smell of smoke as the air distorted in front of her.

Evelyn had no idea what manner of healing this was. She was just glad that the pain was gone.

The voices in the courtyard echoed in her head.

“You struck my book,” the spellcaster said. “You don't understand what you're doing.”

The calm voice of the white-haired man answered, “I don't need to understand...for now. I've seen enough.”

Evelyn's vision swam. She blinked a few times and the placid appearance of the world began to return. She saw the woman next to her pour more liquid. The two men at the center of the courtyard faced each other. Neither of them made a move.

The owner of the orange book glanced down and noticed that the other man's foot was planted on the sacred tome. The side of his mouth twitched a bit as the foot stomped into it a few times.

The white-haired man grinned. “Guess this is pretty important to you.”

The spellcaster allowed himself a smirk as he observed the antagonistic and childish display. A soft chuckle escaped him, one that was not joy, desperation, fear or anything synonymous with emotion. He just simply laughed as he watched his precious book pressed beneath the white-haired man's mocking foot.

The spellcaster held his hands in front of him and let out another uncharacteristic laugh. “You can't do anything. That is merely its physical form. I am the owner of the contract.” To prove his point, the book on the ground shivered and released a black pestilence that forced the other man to step back. The book's binding shifted colors until it assumed a lifeless gray.

The spellcaster lifted his hand, and the book appeared in his possession once more. “You disturb the goal of True Equivalence. Who are you?” he asked.

His opponent bent over and casually pulled a dagger from a holster hidden within the cuffs of his pants. He tossed the strange sphere in the air and turned his palm over to catch it with the back of his hand.

“No one important,” the white-haired man said. “Just a wandering alchemist.”

The spellcaster glowered at him. “I see. Not one of True Equivalence. You are outmatched.”

The alchemist shrugged. “I can slow you down until they escape. Don't underestimate alchemy.”

Evelyn clung to every word as she watched the confrontation at the center of the plaza. She stared transfixed, and didn't even notice when the masked woman went to work on the rest of her injuries.

An alchemist, Evelyn thought. There weren't many of them left in Hovestile – not the ones who studied the offensive arts at least.

The woman next to her visibly flinched and focused her gaze past where the two men were standing. She pulled the hood from her head to reveal a pair of unmistakable rabbit ears that indicated she was a demihuman. The ears twitched and strained to hear whatever was of interest on the other side of the plaza.

Evelyn turned her head slowly to follow her gaze and noticed what held her attention.

Three humanoid silhouettes emerged from one of the side roads. The feline ears on the heads of two of them were obvious when they emerged from the shadows. One wore a white healer robes with an accompanying staff that was as long as she was tall. The other demihuman was covered in thick warrior armor and wielded a large double-edged axe. Behind them stood a human wearing dark leather armor. A scarf covered the lower half of his face.

No, Evelyn thought. GRIM?

Evan McCarthy curled his gloved fingers around his shortsword and freed the weapon from its sheath. “We never seem to get much of a break,” he said.

“Naturally,” Asa said. She ran her hand along the staff as she prepared a spell.

Kirie tapped the handle of her axe against a shoulder. “Works for me.”

Evelyn noticed a fourth figure take shape from behind them within the darkness.

A woman outfitted in unremarkable leather armor emerged and stepped in front of Evan. The portions of her outfit were scuffed and discolored in some places, but still held a sheen of care and frequent maintenance. A brown bandanna with a circling leaf design was wrapped around her neck. A headband pushed back her hair with two furry ears that stuck straight up. A fluffy, dark brown tail flowed back and forth behind her with a touch of white fur at the tip.

She drew one of her twin scimitars. Even with the woman's arm in a sling, Evelyn felt a shiver crawl over her as she saw the fox woman scan the plaza with intense, hazel eyes.

“Sure you don't wanna sit this one out, Ash?” Evan said carefully.

The fox woman, Ash, brandished her scimitar and took an offensive stance. “Yeah, I'm good.”