[POV Samo]
"You slept quite a bit, Samo," said the golden hydra as soon as I opened my eyes.
I wasn't in the real world, but in the plane of Irly. I faced the creature before me: the blue-eyed head stared fixedly at me, murmuring words I couldn't understand, while the green-eyed one slept soundly.
"Why am I here?" I asked, still confused.
"Well, you always come here when you sleep," she replied, lowering her neck and approaching me. "Your consciousness, at least. But only now have you managed to access it lucidly. Perhaps because of the 'Green' one."
"But haven't I been here many times before?" I brought my hand to my chin, trying to organize my thoughts.
"Yes, of course. Except the other times, you were awake, or almost so. Now, your physical body sleeps a deep sleep."
"I see. So I can talk to you while I sleep." An idea occurred to me. "And more importantly, I can train my Aura in here."
The instant I sat down to meditate, my physical body woke up abruptly.
Everything was dark. My body ached and my mind was clouded. Alternating the control of consciousness so quickly had its price.
I realized I was inside a tent made of branches and leaves. Outside, I saw the glow of a campfire and heard the crackling of firewood, along with some voices that seemed familiar to me. I got up and stepped out carefully. After all, I still didn't know who those people were.
Near the fire, I saw two silhouettes. A tall, strong woman was sharpening a double-bitted axe. Across from her, a man in a long robe was placing more wood on the fire. I approached in silence, but ended up stepping on a dry twig, breaking the stillness of the night.
The woman sprang up in a leap, ready to fight. The man recited a quick spell and a light appeared in the air, illuminating me completely.
"Oh, it's you," said the girl, relaxing her stance. Her voice was calm, quite different from her imposing body. I noticed her short brown hair and a fresh scar on her face.
"Wait!" the mage interrupted, alarmed. "I was certain his eyes were green when we found him tossed among the trees."
Ignoring the warning, the woman came right up to me and stared at me.
"No. It's really him. I remember seeing him in the Order's training sessions. They are the same eyes." She turned and sat down near the fire again. "And even if he were an enemy, do you think I couldn't handle him, Seras?"
The question left the boy flustered.
"Not at all, Lady Masala," he stammered.
I found her attitude a bit arrogant, but I let it pass. The mage kept looking nervously from me to her. I sat down by the campfire.
Thinking about what happened in the ambush, I realized there were huge gaps in my memory. The Hydra had said the 'Green' one took control. Apparently, I didn't remember what she had done with my body for us to survive.
"Where are we?" I asked, cutting straight to the point.
"Somewhere beyond the Lofty Peaks," replied Seras, looking at a torn map. "Since our route was to the Third Company, tomorrow we will head southwest. We should arrive in seven days on foot."
Seven days of walking was a long time compared to the three days by carriage we had planned. From what I remembered from classes, the forest of the Lofty Peaks didn't have monsters that were too dangerous, but being isolated out here was already a huge risk.
"Why don't you go to sleep?" I suggested, looking at the flames. "I've rested enough. You can leave me on watch."
"You may go rest, Lady Masala," countered the mage, looking at me with suspicion. "I will keep our companion here company."
I didn't understand the reason for such distrust. There was the old rivalry between mages and knights, but right now we needed to work together.
"No, no. You will rest too, Seras," ordered Masala firmly. "We have a long way ahead of us."
"But, my lady..." he tried to argue.
"No arguments. That's an order."
The boy's face turned red with embarrassment. The two went to separate tents. Masala stayed in the one closest to the fire, and Seras went to the one I had been using earlier.
I sat there alone, until I realized an important detail.
Where is Fäste?
I jumped up and looked around, but I didn't see it. Could I have dropped the sword during the ambush? I needed to look for it, but I couldn't abandon the watch in the middle of the night.
I only calmed down when I saw the reflection of the black blade inside the tent where Masala was sleeping. Fäste was there.
"Phew." I sighed in relief.
I'll get it tomorrow. Approaching a sleeping woman right now would be a terrible idea. Masala... I remembered that name. She was the heiress to a famous matriarchal clan focused on warfare in the west of the continent.
Far away from there, at the Third Company of the Knights of Aurora, the atmosphere was tense. Sergeant Antony de Montese was now acting commander of the base, since the former leader had been deposed on corruption charges.
"What do you mean we lost contact with the convoy?!" shouted Antony inside the command tent. The armored soldier in front of him recoiled, frightened.
"I apologize, sir. The last message arrived two days ago. They notified us they were making a detour because the bridge of the Lofty Peaks collapsed."
"A detour?" Antony rubbed his head in irritation. "They were forced to cross 'Rhakan's Toll'?"
The soldier grew pale just hearing the name.
"If they passed through there... then we must presume them all dead, right?"
The sergeant slammed both fists on the table and leaped up. The wood cracked.
"Shut your mouth right now!" he snarled. "Send a tactical squad to the toll route. Immediately!"
The soldier nodded frantically and ran out of the tent.
Antony took a deep breath and sat back in his chair, covering his face. He was consumed by worry. He had never imagined he would lose so many cadets all at once.
"If only that former commander had destroyed that damn toll, damn it," he grumbled.
The blame for the criminal structure's continued existence wasn't his, but as the current commander, the responsibility for the spilled blood would fall on his shoulders.
The tent fell silent. A cold wind blew in and scattered the papers on the desk. Among several reports, a stamped file caught his attention: the record of that boy with flaming red hair.