Time

"Irina, how much food do you have left in your artifact?"

"For the two of us? A week's worth, whatever that means here."

Eventually, he'd just dropped the "Your Highness" and "Princess" talk. It was fine when they spoke so rarely in the palace, but it was just tedious here.

The girl either didn't mind or didn't realise as she never mentioned it.

'Alright. If we run out, I guess we'll have to return.'

Looking at the young girl who walked forward with a stubborn set to her face, he hoped they found the end soon. He really didn't want to go back on his word and accept defeat after all this.

Without thinking, his gaze half returned to the glowing doors that haunted them, but catching himself in the act, he continued on just as stubbornly.

And so they walked. For what felt like an entire year, they walked. And then they ate the first of seven remaining meals.

For months still they walked, and in that time ate four meals.

The stubborn set to Irina's face had melted with stress and insecurity, and even Lucian felt a deep weariness in his soul.

'What if… If we return and time has passed us by in this place.' His hand shook with the thought, but he gripped it with his other, not letting the younger girl see his unease.

'Just more reason to continue.' he tried to convince himself. 'If we go back now and truly lose all this time, there was no point to it. That would be the greatest waste.'

"Come, show me your Falling Leaves technique once more." He said, eager to distract himself, but more importantly, Irina, whos steps had slowed to a crawl with her head down.

"Right." She said lifelessly.

The two practiced for… however long, until he had made a few points, and she took note of them all. It wasn't working. She remained lethargic and her movements were sloppy, to say the least.

She didn't need sleep. She needed time. Real time.

They continued to walk on for what felt like a day to Lucian when Irina collapsed.

"Hey? What's wrong?" He shouted as he caught her just above the ground.

"I've had enough…" She said through sobs. "It's been so long. We don't even train anymore, how am I supposed to ignore it all?"

"What do you mean? We trained yesterday, remember? The Falling Leaves technique."

She fixed him an astounded gaze as more tears built on her eyes, and then smiled widely, mockingly.

"A day? It's only been a… day?" She mumbled, her head lowering again.

Shivers ran up his arms, as Lucian wet his lips to speak.

"Irina?... How long has it been?"

…

"Irina?"

"A year…" so soft he could barely hear her. "Maybe two."

Shock rocked him, and he sat crouched there, stunned, for moments.

'A year? Maybe two?' Rubbing her back, he tried to think of how to help her but nothing came to mind. 'Should we just… leave?'

His head began to turn back but again he stopped himself. He would not look at those doors waiting for him. If he did, he would surely run through them.

Irina's shaking brought him back to reality.

"H-how much food do you have left, Irina?"

He stumbled over the words as he spoke with a dry mouth.

"Food? It should be all gon– How? How is that possible?"

"What?"

"It's still there. The last two meals. But, years went by. I…"

"Alright," he said softly. "Sit down properly. We'll stop here for now, and decide what to do."

After withdrawing a soft cushion from her artifact, Irina couldn't bear it any longer and cried into it. Lucian sat beside her, pretending he couldn't hear it. He'd never had to deal with something like this before, and didn't know how much comforting was too much.

Stifling a sigh, he wondered what to do next. There was no indication that their travels through this place would ever end. But that was the point wasn't it? After so long here, he knew well enough what the point of this trial was.

It was a test of will.

In that case, surely all they needed to do was continue on despite anything else, but… that was easier said than done. He'd known the trial for a while now, but that didn't change anything. It didn't make the time feel any less wasted, didn't make this place less disorienting, and didn't help with their mental health.

His right hand was still shaking.

He wanted out.

Curiosity and intrigue be damned, he wanted out of this place. But two things held him back. If he left now, and years truly had passed, would he lose that time for nothing? Worse still, whos to say those doors are an exit.

He remembered Takis saying there would always be an exit, and that they could leave with their lives, but he was not so trusting of those all too perfect doors that haunted them. What if it was a trap? What if, by walking through those doors, he died and became assimilated, as all the other sorry souls who died here.

The thought was horrid. To die within the legacy ground of The Maelstrom was to have your soul rent from your body and torn to pieces, your cultivation broken down into energy, your memories scoured, splintered, and stored. To have everything about him down to the power of his blood made into an inheritance for someone else. Someone who didn't give up.

His right hand ceased shaking.

He wouldn't accept that end. If there was even a chance that the glowing doors brought that end, then he wanted nothing to do with them.

Irina's crying had become nothing but quiet sobs, and turning to look at her, she seemed to have fallen asleep sitting against the wall with her head in her cushion.

'Easy enough to decide for myself, but what do I do about her?'

He allowed himself the sigh this time, sure she would not hear it. If she recovered somewhat by the time she woke, he would keep distracting her and guiding them onwards. If she didn't, he'd have to risk leaving this place, for the sake of her mental health.

**

After receiving a deadly arrow wound and fighting off the poison that invaded his system, Harl Runer's positive condition took a turn for the worst and he died en route to the Demian capital of Karnath.

With his death, the highest authority of the Naldurian delegation fell to Yalan Kas, a relatively inexperienced though high standing diplomat.

Tess did not know why this Harl Runer had to die, but neither did she care. His death meant continued support from the kingdom in her growth.

'Calling me all the way from Toubia just for this, what are they thinking?'

Things had become chaotic in Toubia and Nalduri of late, with large scale battles taking place constantly, and she had been well set to take advantage of it all. Now that she had been pulled back, what would happen to the Restful Haven without her?

'I need to earn merit to get my hands on a 5th stage to my Spirit Palm technique. Until I have that in hand, my cultivation is held hostage, and the best way to get earn merit is back in Toubia.'

She had heard a lot during her time in Toubia. She'd heard more rumors of 'ascendents' and many possibly delusional ramblings about a winged man with a halo of light. But more than that, she'd heard rumors among cultivators about the 5th stage, descriptions that everything changes and your art no longer matters. It was an absurd thought really, but she couldn't help but hope.

'If the 5th stage is the last for my spirit palm, doesn't that mean I would be free once I get my hands on it? I could start my own organization, forge a foundation for myself.'

Her time in Toubia had changed things in her eyes. Her past months of leading others and answering to others rarely had given her a taste of freedom, and authority. She'd never desire to be cooped up in the nobility, but there were other ways to build a force now. Other foundations to stand upon.

'I just need to show merits for now, as much as possible.'

Biding her time, Tess, now a plain Toubian man with unrecognizable features, made her way back towards the capital. For this mission, she was only to report in person, never with her badge.

Unknown to her, however, her stay in Demia was only just beginning.

**

After Princess Irina woke, she seemed to have recovered considerably. Her anxiety and stress were smothered by what Lucian thought to be frustration with herself and impatience, as well as embarrassment.

She was a fighter, however inexperienced, and surely didn't like the idea of sobbing in front of another.

He was glad though. As she was now, they might truly pull a victory from this place. He looked forward to it, the realization that it was all over, that they had not failed or given up.

And so, when the time came to continue on, he set forth with a hopeful air about him at first.

And then time passed.