-Ban, island of Wuqes – October 7335-
Zirinos's fame spread through the Ban Islands like fire through dry grass.
Not because he sought it – he never sought it – but because the peasants of Wuqes, the fishermen of Barr, the merchants of Fansaaf, and even the distrustful nobles of Éstli spoke of the man with gold-and-blood hair who killed monsters with a sword that glowed hot.
"They say he faced an iron-cru spider alone," an old man recounted in a Banal tavern.
"They say he cut off a banished worm's head with a single blow," added another.
"They say King Zayan is afraid of him."
"They say King Zayan admires him."
The rumours grew, deformed, grew wings. Zirinos did not deny them. He let them fly.
---
The second spider appeared on the slope of Wuqes's volcano, deeper in the cave than the first. It was larger, older, its metallic body plates covered with dark moss and scars from ancient battles.
Zirinos entered alone.
Luna stayed in Banal, resting. Sanderá and Erlan guarded the entrance, by the hero's order.
"If I don't come back," he said before disappearing into the darkness, "tell the king. And tell Luna I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" asked Sanderá.
"Everything."
The cave was deeper than the previous one, the air heavier, the smell of sulphur stronger. Zirinos lit a blue flame in his palm – not to see, but to warm himself. The mountain's cold was damp, penetrating, worse than the ice of Lunos.
The spider did not hide.
It emerged from the shadows like an apparition, its long thin legs scraping the stone floor, its red eyes shining in the half‑dark. It was the size of a small horse, its body arched, its metal plates clinking with each movement.
"Hello," said Zirinos, drawing his sword. "I already smelled your death."
The spider attacked first.
Fast. Faster than the first. Its legs projected toward Zirinos's chest, but he was no longer where he had been. The training with the heat technique, the nights spent studying the creatures' movements, the experience accumulated in Lunos's Torrus‑Endras – all contributed to an agility he had not possessed before.
He dodged. He spun. The hot sword sank into the joint of the front leg, cutting through the metal like rotten wood.
The spider retreated, screaming – a sharp, metallic sound that echoed off the cave walls.
"Does it hurt?" asked Zirinos, advancing. "It should."
The second blow struck the right eye. The third, the abdomen. The fourth, the head.
The spider fell. Its legs contracted one last time and went still.
Silence returned.
Zirinos wiped his sword on the creature's carapace. The metal, still hot, smoked on contact.
"One more," he murmured.
He sheathed his sword. He left the cave.
Outside, the setting sun painted the sky red and purple.
"It's dead," he announced to Sanderá and Erlan. "You can tell the peasants."
"And the crater?" asked Erlan, pointing into the dark interior. "Are there more?"
"There are always more. But not today."
He mounted his horse. His body ached. His head was a fog.
He needed to drink.
---
The letter arrived three days later, delivered by a messenger from Lunos covered in dust and fatigue.
It was addressed to Luna, with the seal of House Lunos – the white moon with pale hands. Linda had written in hurried, almost illegible script:
*"Luna, the Krakeriar has woken. The one that was in the Graylor Islands. Refibus and Seru have fled south, but the monster is not their doing. It woke on its own, perhaps because of the thaw, perhaps because of the spreading corruption. The marquisate needs help. Do not return. Stay where you are. Love, Mother."*
Luna read the letter in silence, her hands trembling. Then she handed it to Zirinos.
"The Krakeriar," he said after reading. "The juvenile that remained in the Graylor Islands."
"It's the last of the four. The others died. One at Decatry port, killed by Ana. The other two on the deserted ice island."
"And now this one has woken."
"It has. And my mother is alone."
Zirinos returned the letter.
"Your mother is not alone. She has the loyal barons. She has the guards. She has the experience of one who has ruled for decades."
"But Refibus…"
"Refibus fled. He won't attack with a monster loose. He'll wait."
"And if the monster kills him?"
"Then we'll have a celebration."
Luna looked at him with a mixture of anger and sadness.
"You take nothing seriously."
"I do." His voice softened. "I take your safety seriously. That's why I don't want you to go back."
"I'm not going back. Yet. But I will help."
"How?"
"By speaking with the king. With the nobles. With whoever is necessary."
Zirinos sighed. He drank the rest of his wine.
"Then speak."
---
King Zayan summoned the nobles for an extraordinary meeting at the palace of Banal.
The dukes of the six islands – or their representatives – took their places at the long table in the great hall of blue and gold tiles. The air smelled of incense and tropical fruit. Servants served chilled wine in silver goblets.
"The Krakeriar has woken," Zayan announced when everyone was seated. "Marchioness Linda Lunos's letter is clear. The creature is destroying the coastal villages of Graylor and threatening the north of Lunos."
"And what do we have to do with that?" asked Duke Henlus of Fansaaf. "The monster is not on our islands."
"Not yet," replied Magnus Troydís. "But if Lunos falls, the refugees will come south. And the monsters too."
"Monsters don't cross the sea."
"They do. Krakeriar swim. And the others… the others will come."
Silence fell.
Zayan looked at Zirinos, who stood by the window, arms crossed.
"The hero of Endomyar has an opinion?"
"I do." Zirinos did not move. "The Krakeriar is a juvenile. The weakest of the four that were born. But still dangerous. It needs to be killed before it grows."
"And who will kill it?" asked Duke Dacer of Serner.
"Someone with experience in killing monsters."
"You."
"Me." Zirinos turned. "If you give me men. And ships. And weapons."
"What you want is an army," said Magnus.
"I want what is necessary."
Zayan rapped his knuckles on the table.
"The hero will have what he asks for. But not for free. Ban is not a charity kingdom. Ban is a kingdom of business."
"And what is the price?"
"The price is your word. When the Krakeriar is dead, you will return to Ban to help in our own war."
"What war?"
"The one that hasn't started yet. But will."
Zirinos looked at Zayan. The king's eyes, affable in appearance, hid something – a calculation, a hope, a warning.
"I give my word," said Zirinos.
"Then it's done."
The nobles raised their goblets. They toasted.
Luna, sitting beside Zirinos, squeezed his hand under the table.
"Do you trust him?" she whispered.
"I trust that he needs me. That's different."
"And you? Do you need him?"
"I need the Krakeriar dead. The rest… the rest we'll see."