Chapter 3: Crushed silence

Year 100 of the Silver Radiant Python Era. And ODOS beheld the souls of the departed, unmoored and seeking rest, and he made for them a place beyond the sight of mortals-the Luminous Vale. Here, in the realm unseen, are the spirits gathered, their essence measured, their burdens lifted.

Kest sat bound, chained to the wall, with pulse-restricting cuffs. The dim light of the abandoned outpost flickered, casting jagged shadows against the cracked stone walls. His face was bruised, streaked with blood, his torn clothes clinging to open wounds.

Fey leaned against a wooden table, arms crossed, his silver-streaked hair glinting in the dim glow. His eyes, hidden beneath his tinted goggles, flickered with a knowledge he wasn't sharing yet.

Rhea crouched beside Kest, her emerald eyes sharp. "You're lucky we didn't just kill you outright," she said, voice edged with disdain. "So talk."

Kest sneered, shifting in his restraints. "Talk about what? You think I know Lemos' grand plan?" He scoffed. "I make what drugs Lemos wants and pass it along that's it."

Nova cracked his knuckles, the blood-red runes on his arms glowing faintly as he took a step forward. The flickering glyphs along his skin pulsed with restrained energy, ready to be used if necessary.

Kest hesitated, glancing between them. Fey narrowed his eyes behind his goggles, catching the flicker of hesitation—fear in Kest's face.

"We already know about the Fairy-Dust," Fey said calmly, his voice measured. "We know it's being spread in the cities of the land, and we know it's connected to Lemos." He tilted his head. "What we don't know is why."

Kest's jaw tightened. He turned his gaze to the floor, refusing to meet their eyes.

Rhea sighed, standing up. "You're not the first person to think silence will save you." She turned, rolling her shoulders. "You've seen what Lemos does to people. Do you really think he cares about your loyalty?"

Kest let out a dry chuckle. "And you think you're better than me? You're just another group trying to survive, just like the rest of us. Doing what you need to do."

Nova's fist slammed against the table, the force splintering in it. "Surviving isn't the same as selling out your own people. Everything Lemos devous never returns to the cycle of death." His voice was ice.

Fey exhaled slowly, letting the tension settle before stepping forward. He pulled off his goggles, letting them rest around his neck so he could meet Kest's gaze. His irises swirled like galaxies caught in motion.

Kest flinched. He knew those eyes. Everyone did. The Eyes of Iztol the Eyes of Fate.

Fey's voice was barely more than a breath, yet it carried the weight of something far more terrifying than a simple threat.

"Tell me what you know. Every detail, no matter how small." His opal eyes gleamed coldly. "Unless, you'd rather not exist in this timeline anymore."

He tilted his head, his voice almost thoughtful. "I can see countless timelines where you're nothing but a forgotten shadow… where you never even mattered to begin with."

Kest swallowed hard. He wasn't important. He wasn't high up in the ranks. But he had overheard something—something he wasn't supposed to.

"…The dust," Kest muttered. "It's not just a drug. It's…" He hesitated, then exhaled sharply. "It weakens people. Their minds, their willpower. Makes them… easier to devour."

A heavy silence filled the room.

Fey glanced at Nova and Rhea. Gauging their reactions.

Lemos wasn't just spreading Fairy-Dust to manipulate people. He was using it to make them susceptible—to something worse.

Something that would feed him.

Something that would make him stronger.

Fey clenched his jaw. They needed more information.

But Kest was shutting down again, pressing his lips together as if he'd said too much. He wasn't going to speak another word.

Fey sighed. Then smiled.

It was a slow, lazy grin, the kind that didn't reach his eyes. The kind that made Kest's spine lock up.

Fey reached forward and grabbed him by the collar, dragging Kest—across the stone floor with a sharp scrape against rock. He twisted the man sharply, forcing Kest onto his back in the center of the room.

"You're not taking this seriously, Valen," Fey murmured, voice light, almost amused.

Kest swallowed. He didn't like the shift in atmosphere. "I told you what I know."

Fey leaned down, close enough that Kest could see his own reflection in the opal-galaxy depths of his otherworldly eyes.

"Yeah," Fey said. "And I think you can do better than that."

The air around them grew heavier. At first, Kest thought it was just his own panic creeping in, but then he felt it—gravity twisting, thickening. The stone creaked under the strain, as if the very ground was trying to sink under the pressure.

Kest gasped as an invisible force crushed against his chest, pinning him to the stone floor. He couldn't move.

"You see," Fey continued, his voice still dangerously calm, "I've fought too hard, too long and without glimpse into the weave of fate to be wasting time with someone who thinks he's clever."

Kest struggled, wheezing as the weight around him increased. His fingers tingle from lack of circulation. "I—I told you, I don't—!"

Fey pressed two fingers against Kest's forehead. His skin burned where they touched, but it wasn't heat—it was pressure. A silent, overwhelming force pushing into his mind, threatening to crack it open like a rotting shell.

"Let me put it this way," Fey murmured. "You can talk now… or I can pull the words out myself. But I don't think you'll like that very much."

Kest had no choice but to believe what Fey could do.

Nova and Rhea exchanged glances but said nothing. They knew Fey wasn't actually going to kill Kest—not yet anyways. But Kest didn't need to know that.

The veins in Kest's forehead bulged. Sweat dripped down his face. "Alright—alright! I—I heard something about a shipment! A big one—bigger than before. The dust is being—being taken somewhere. A processing site. That's all I know! I swear!"

Fey studied him for a long moment, then abruptly released the pressure.

Kest gasped, slumping forward as the crushing force disappeared. His breath came in ragged gulps, his arms trembling in their restraints.

Fey stepped back, sliding his goggles into place once more. The smile never left his face.

Rhea leaned down, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "See? That wasn't so hard… was it?"

Nova crossed his arms. "Where's the processing site?"

Kest panted, shaking his head. "I don't know. But I heard it's outside the city. Some old ruins—near the border of the deadlands."

For the first time in the exchange, Fey's smile finally faded.

"The deadlands. Of course it is, nothing is even easy" Fey sighed disgruntledly.