The old man gave a brief hum of approval.
"I had thought thou wouldst grasp the gravity of it."
Zay tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes as though pondering some old truth. In reality, he was buying time.
'Alright, so I'm supposed to care about all this. Whatever this place is, it has its own politics. He thinks I know something, or maybe he wants me to believe I do. Either way, I can't look stupid now.'
He leaned forward just slightly, keeping his tone even.
"And if the Sovereign continues along that path...?"
The old man's expression darkened, only briefly, like a passing shadow.
"Then the South shall burn, and the sands will drink of blood long before the snow of Highreach ever seeps red. The old alliances shall crumble, and the Weavers of Nocthollow shall awaken once more. Such folly would lead to ruin beyond even prophecy's sight."
Zay gave another slow nod, pretending to weigh the old man's words with all the depth they seemed to demand.
"A grim outcome indeed. But one that might still be averted, perhaps... if the right hands are guiding the way."
The old man's eyes glinted faintly, a mixture of curiosity and approval.
"Mayhaps thou art wiser than thy years betray. Tell me, Forsaken by Dawn... dost thou believe thy hands are steady enough to guide the blade that would sever destiny's knot?"
Zay's eyes widened the moment he heard his Resonance Name spoken aloud. A name he had never uttered. His muscles tensed, instincts rising faster than thought. He rose abruptly from the couch, his arm extending forward as Evershade materialized into his grasp, violet and midnight-blue strands of aura threading around the hilt like living silk.
He stared at the old man, the silence between them dense and watchful.
"How the hell do you know that name?" Zay asked, his voice low, but sharpened with suspicion. "I never told anyone that. I haven't spoken it aloud... not once."
The old man did not flinch. He offered no alarm at the weapon pointed toward him, no hesitation in his response. Instead, a serene smile spread slowly across his wrinkled face.
Without a word, he rose from the armchair with the same quiet grace he had carried since the beginning. Turning away from Zay, he stepped lightly across the carpeted floor, the hem of his robe brushing faintly against the rug. He approached a tall window framed in blackened oak and gold trim, the glass fogged at its edges by the cold aura of the realm.
With deliberate care, he unlatched the window and pushed it open. A breeze rolled in—cool, dry, and filled with a strange stillness. The fog outside stirred faintly, as though acknowledging his presence.
He looked out, hands clasped behind his back, before speaking once more.
"There art hidden names that are found," he said softly, his voice carrying with the wind. "Thine was neither. It was earned."
He turned his head slightly, just enough for one eye to meet Zay's.
"And I... have watched thee long before thou hadst even drawn thy first breath of memories."
Before Zay could begin to process what he had heard, the old man let out a soft chuckle. A warm smile returned to his face as he raised his right hand, wiping away the faintest trace of tears brought forth by his own laughter. He released a deep breath, long and weary.
"Pay it no mind, young one. 'Tis naught but the ramblings of an old soul who hath lingered o'erlong. Yet, I beseech thee—keep to heart some of what hath been spoken, else thou shalt live to rue the forgetting."
The old man's expression shifted suddenly, turning solemn without warning. His entire demeanor changed, and the tone of his voice followed suit.
"Now, we turn to the more serious matter I have long awaited to discuss."
Zay stared at him for a moment, then released a quiet sigh. He pushed aside all the words he wanted to speak, all the questions that burned in his mind—everything. Choosing silence over impulse, he sat back down on the couch, allowing Evershade to dissolve from his grasp. He already knew there wasn't a chance in hell he could so much as land a scratch on the man seated before him.
"And what would that be?"
...
"There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with the young man. His vitals are... surprisingly perfect. What exactly happened, so I can document everything? If you could, please explain in as much detail as you can."
The doctor pulled a small journal and a pen from his satchel, flipping open the cover with a flick of his wrist before placing the pen against an empty page.
Rei Alvor nodded and exhaled deeply, relieved by the news that Zay's vitals were perfectly normal."I'll explain what happened."
The doctor glanced at Rei and gave a silent nod, then returned his focus to the page.
"We arrived in Vex a few hours ago and saw this tavern—or bar, or whatever 'Oasis' is supposed to be. We walked in and heard some conversations about us—people asking who we were, if we were hired, or if something else was going on. All three of us made our way to the counter, where the bartender was, and he prepared three glasses with some kind of drink. None of us drank. And Zay, the guy lying unconscious on the bed—"
Rei extended his hand, then closed it into a fist before pointing toward Zay with his index finger. The doctor's pen moved steadily across the page, recording every word with precise strokes.
"So, what happened after you all rejected the drinks?" the doctor asked without looking up.
"Well, Zay asked for... a key. The bartender gave us one for this room. We went upstairs, came in here, Naomi laid down, Zay walked over to the window, and I went to take a shower. That's why my hair was wet when I ran down. I asked for a doctor, you stood up, we came back up here, and now you know the rest."
The doctor nodded slightly as he finished writing, then slid the pen back into his satchel along with the journal. His emerald eyes reflected the flickering candlelight from a nearby table as he blinked slowly and rose to his feet, fastening the satchel closed.
"I'll be in the clinic tomorrow morning at seven, and I leave at five in the evening. If he is still not awake by then, bring him in. The clinic is the third building on the right. I do wish him good health."
The doctor, having responded to Rei's urgent plea, nodded once more. As he turned to leave, a small vial slipped from his satchel unnoticed, landing softly on the floor. Without realizing it, he exited the room, closed the door behind him, and made his way down the stairs, answering a few lingering questions from curious patrons regarding what had happened upstairs.
Rei Alvor and Naomi exchanged a glance that lingered for a few quiet seconds before Rei stepped forward, closed the door behind them, and slumped onto the second bed. He leaned back on one arm, his eyes settling on Zay's still body.
"Is he really fine?" he asked, his voice low and uncertain.
Naomi turned her head to look at Zay but gave no response. Instead, she walked over to the window where Zay had once stood, peering out as though searching for something. There was nothing remarkable beyond the glass—just fog, rooftops, and the faint flicker of distant lights. She let out a breath and remained silent.
Rei sat motionless, scanning the room slowly, taking in every detail. His mind was restless.
'According to the doctor, he's fine. But I don't really believe that. We've been through a lot the past few months, and he's never just collapsed like this without a word. He gave me knowledge about beasts to look out for if they ever showed up in my sequences... two of them did. The third was brutal, but I handled it.
Still... that's why I'm not completely worried. He's always been two steps ahead, and I know he'll pull through. But even so, something about this doesn't sit right.'
He let out a deep sigh, then rose from the bed and stepped into the bathroom. The dim lighting above the mirror cast subtle shadows across his features. He stared at his reflection in silence for a few seconds before slowly raising his hand.
Aura surged to life in his palm, and flames of a deep azure-blue erupted, dancing around his hand with smooth, controlled heat. The light of the fire reflected in his eyes as he watched it swirl and rise. After a moment, the flames faded, receding into his skin along with his aura.
He glanced down at his bare torso. Lean muscle shifted slightly with his breath, his body marked with old signs of training and battle. A single scar stretched across the left side of his chest, thin and pale, a reminder of a time he nearly didn't make it back alive from an investigation.
He blinked once, quietly pulled his tunic back over his head, and walked out of the bathroom.
Closing the door behind him, he made his way to the couch. Without a word, he lowered himself onto it, stretched out, and closed his eyes. He let his toes extend, neck tilted to one side until a quiet, subtle crack came from within it. He released a breath, long and heavy, but not exhausted—just worn.
Naomi turned slightly to look at him, then turned her gaze back to the window. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them even knew what to say after what had happened. They had both been relying on Zay to lead them through this Sequence.