His eyes landed on Towan first.
And for a mont—just one fleeting mont—Towan forgot how to breathe.
Imasurable pressure.
Controlled power.
Not unleashed. Not aggressive.
Just there.
Like a boulder that chose not to roll downhill.
Towan stood his ground, but his muscles tensed before he realized it.
So this is what it feels like… when soone doesn’t need to prove anything.
“I’m sorry… who are you?”
Towan tried to keep his voice steady, but his breath caught halfway through the sentence.
The man turned his eyes on him—calm, unblinking.
“Eryndar.”
One word. No flourish. No explanation.
But the mont he said it, everything changed.
Eryndar’s gaze dropped—just slightly—to the rings on their fingers. Forged by Rheon. Crafted with aning, not ornant.
Recognition flickered across his face.
“I suppose you two are the reason he used it,” he said quietly.
“The Vital Essentia. He wouldn’t have burned his soul unless he believed you were worth the cost.”
Elliot froze. His fingers instinctively brushed against the ring.
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In the last few weeks, he'd consud every book the dojo had. Learned nas. Dates. Theories. Wars.
But one na had co up again and again. Not as often as Rheon…
…but always beside him.
Eryndar.
Stone flow. The Unmoving Bastion. One of the last surviving Essentia Warriors.
A man who stood at the gates when the Corruptor first erged… and didn’t fall.
Elliot’s eyes widened. The pieces snapped together.
“You're that
Eryndar,” he breathed.
The warrior said nothing. Didn’t confirm. Didn’t deny. He simply looked at them both, reading sothing deeper.
And maybe, just maybe, hoping it was there.
“Let’s go and have a cup of tea,” Lytharos said, breaking the silence with the casual tone of soone who knew how to read heavy rooms.
“I’ve got to fill you in on what happened.”
Eryndar gave a single nod and followed without a word, his steps still carrying that sa quiet authority. Selene lingered for a mont, glanced back at the brothers, then turned and disappeared down the hall behind them.
The room felt lighter the mont they left.
Not empty—just… less dense.
Towan let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
He looked over at Elliot, voice low.
“He’s strong.”
Elliot nodded slowly, still half-staring at the hallway where Eryndar had vanished.
“Really strong.”
He paused, fingers once again brushing against the ring on his hand.
“That was Eryndar,” he added. “One of the last Essentia Warriors. The man who held the eastern wall during the Second Eclipse… by himself.”
Towan blinked. “Wait—what’s the Second Eclipse? What do you an eastern wall?”
Elliot turned his gaze from the hallway, looking thoughtful for a mont—almost like he was flipping through pages in his mind.
“It was one of the last major battles of the first war against the Corruptor,” he said quietly. “The sky darkened for five days straight. The historians called it an eclipse… but the books suggest it was more than that. A physical manifestation of corrupted Essentia—dark flow blocking out the sun.”
“The eastern wall was the final line before the capital. Everything else had already fallen.”
Towan frowned. “And he held it alone?”
“Not by choice,” Elliot replied. “He was ant to retreat. But the civilians hadn’t escaped yet. So he stayed.
For three days, wave after wave of corrupted ca at him. He didn’t move from his post. Didn’t let a single one through.”
Towan looked back toward the hallway, a slow, heavy realization settling in.
“And now he’s here…”
Elliot gave a short, almost nervous breath of laughter.
“Yeah. No pressure.”
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