The morning fog over the Boiling Isles was thick and acidic, but not thick enough to hide the sharp, agonizing glare from the Emperor’s Coven scouts patrolling the Glandus market. Hunter—the Golden Guard, the youngest prodigy, and the most exhausted person on the Isles—adjusted his mask, trying to ignore the constant, icy pressure in his chest. Today was not a day for training; it was a day for "harvesting."
"Hand it over," Hunter commanded, his voice muffled by the mask, trying to sound cold and calculating, like Belos. "The Emperor demands all wild magic surrendered for… rehabilitation." 6. Hunting Palismen
He didn't run away. Instead, he snapped his staff, using its energy to create a diversion—a blinding flash of light—and forced the fox into a nearby, safe hiding spot, whispering, "Run." The morning fog over the Boiling Isles was
He saw the fox's tiny heart beating rapidly against its wooden chest. The pressure in his own chest intensified, not from fear, but from a sudden, terrifying realization. He was destroying something innocent. "Hunter!" Luz shouted, "The scouts are coming!" "The Emperor demands all wild magic surrendered for…
"It got away," Hunter told them, his voice shakier than he cared to admit.
Hunter looked down at the tiny creature in his hand, then back at Luz, who was now holding a terrified bird palisman of her own. For a moment, they weren't enemies. They were just two people, both trying to survive in a place that didn't care about them. "This is… wrong," Hunter whispered, barely audible.
As the scouts arrived, they found only a broken staff and a confused Golden Guard.