Heartstone

At the Helos' camp, under the flickering shadows of oil-lit torches and the low hum of evening conversations, Chief John called for one of his men.

"Get the newcomers," he ordered. "Toby, Reu, and Brea. Bring them to me."

The ashkin nodded and sprinted across the bustling camp. Upon reaching their tent, he burst in.

"You three," he said breathlessly. "Chief John wants to speak with you. Urgently."

Brea groaned and pulled her blanket over her head. "I was finally about to sleep."

Toby stood up, stretching. "Let's just go before he sends someone louder."

Reu stretches his arms and walked ahead. "C'mon, you two."

In John's command tent, a large wooden table stood covered in maps and war plans. The scent of ink, sweat, and old smoke filled the air.

"How are your tents?" John asked as they entered. "Comfortable enough?"

Toby smiled. "Yes, thank you so much."

John waved his hand. "Don't mention it. I called you here not for pleasantries, but for something greater."

Reu raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

John stepped forward, placing his hand over a map of Gresia. "This town... this place we stand on... it was once a beacon for the oppressed. The Nasyonalistas have corrupted that. We, the Helos Knights, aim to liberate it. Not just with strength, but with purpose. I'm asking you three to fight with us—for Gresia, for its people—and you will be greatly rewarded."

Brea perked up, nearly jumping to her feet. "Reward?! Did you say reward?" Her eyes gleamed like twin stars in the night.

Reu crossed his arms and leaned against a post, clearly unimpressed. "No way. I'd rather stay out of this ashkin-paladin mess and Gresia already seen too much blood."

John nodded solemnly, his face a mixture of patience and purpose. "I respect your stance, Reu. You have every right to refuse. But remember—your group's path often follows its leader."

Both Brea and Reu turned to Toby, waiting.

Toby scratched his chin, looking down thoughtfully. "Brea's got a point—rewards could mean gear, supplies, safe passage. All things we need. But Reu's not wrong either. This war isn't ours.

He exhaled slowly. "So for me..."

BOOM!

A massive explosion shook the ground beneath them, dust cascading from the tent ceiling like falling ash.

An explosion shook the ground, throwing dust from the tent ceiling.

A panicked ashkin burst in. "Chief! We're under attack!"

John stood tall. "Paladins?"

"No," the ashkin breathed. "Lunas."

John turned to the trio. "I could use your help."

Reu clenched his fists. "Even if I hate this, I owe you. I'll fight."

John smiled and tossed him a temporary blade. "Then fight well."

"Let's go!" Toby shouted.

Brea nodded, already moving. "I'll help evacuate the children and elderly."

Outside, chaos reigned.

"ARM YOURSELVES!" a Helos ashkin shouted. "LUNAS ARE ATTACKING!"

Figures in black cloaks surged into the camp. The Lunas, masters of shadow, fought with precision. Daggers glinted, arrows flew. The clash of steel was deafening.

John's eyes narrowed. Flames ignited from his hands.

"Killa really kept her words."

With a thunderous roar, he unleashed a wave of fire.

"HEAT BLAST!"

Luna ashkins screamed as flames engulfed them. But more kept coming, using the smoke and night as cover.

Reu sprinted to the forge.

"Gunbert! Gunbert!"

"Here!" came a weak voice.

Gunbert lay trapped beneath a collapsed beam. Reu lifted it with a grunt and pulled him free.

"You protected it?" Reu asked, looking at the partially completed blade.

"Yes," Gunbert coughed. "It's not finished, but I will finish it... for you."

"Later," Reu said. "First, we get you somewhere safe."

Toby stood on the frontlines. Lunas came at him with inhuman speed.

"Let's go!" Toby yelled, disappearing and reappearing mid-punch.

But the Lunas were quick, ducking and dodging. Still, Toby dodged just as well, turning the field into a blur of flickers and flashes.

Meanwhile, John fought like a storm incarnate. Flames danced from his limbs, his sword ablaze, each swing an inferno. But then—

"JOHN!" a voice called.

Killi stepped through the smoke, sword and shield drawn. Tall, imposing, and ruthless.

"Tonight, your story ends."

John smirked. "You're alone. How can you hope to—"

A shadow landed beside Killi.

Killa.

"Ahaha... he's not alone. You are."

Her chain dagger uncoiled from her hip like a serpent.

John's eyes flared. "Show me what you've got."

The battle began in a blaze of fury. Killi charged forward, shield raised, shouting a guttural war cry. John met him with fire swirling up his blade.

"HEAT BLAST!" he roared, sending a wave of fire surging forward.

Killi braced behind his shield. The flames rolled off it, licking at the edges of his cloak, but he pushed through, closing the gap with relentless momentum. Their swords clanged like thunder, sparks lighting the darkness between them.

From the side, Killa moved like smoke—silent, fast, elusive. She whipped her chain dagger around, letting it fly with precision.

John caught the glint of steel and spun, his sword intercepting the attack midair. He lashed out with a back-kick, striking Killa in the ribs. She stumbled but rolled and landed on her feet, eyes burning with admiration and fury.

With a snarl, John turned and fired another blast of fire, catching Killi off-guard and sending him skidding across the dirt. The flame's impact scorched the ground and cracked the earth beneath.

"The two of you... might not be enough."

"I'm more than enough!" Killi roared.

Killa shouted, "Watch out, Killi! He's dangerous!"

Together, they surged at John. Chain daggers whipped from the flanks. John was fast, but the coordination wore him down.

From the tents, Brea carried a child while glancing at the battle.

Her eyes fixed on Killa.

"She's... incredible. If I stay with Toby and Reu, I have to grow stronger. As strong as her."

She turned back to her mission, shielding the children.

John staggered. Blood ran down his arm. A critical blow.

Killi smirked. "No more words, Helos chief?"

Killa raised her chain dagger. "Let's end this."

They closed in—

""Hah! You two are terrible dance partners!"

The voice rang through the chaos like a bell of mischief and salvation. Arthur burst in, his usual grin replaced with a manic energy. He launched himself into the fray, his boot connecting squarely with Killa's ribs, sending her tumbling across the scorched earth.

Without missing a beat, he drew his bow and unleashed a volley of rapid arrows. The shafts whistled through the air, forcing Killi to retreat and shield himself.

Arthur closed the distance like a shadow, slamming Killi with the curved limb of his bow. The force sent Killi reeling back, stunned by Arthur's mix of agility and raw strength.

"You missed me?" Arthur teased, pivoting sharply to parry a sneak attack from behind.

John, battered and bloodied, used the moment to stand. His eyes locked on Killa, who had recovered and now streaked toward him like a specter of vengeance.

Flame clashed against steel once more. John fired blasts of fire, searing the air—but Killa was a blur. She rolled, twisted, ducked, her chain dagger hissing like a serpent.

Then, with a spin, she lashed the chain around John's flaming sword, jerking it downward and throwing him off balance. She flew in close—too close.

Shhk! A dagger thrust into John's shoulder, the steel biting clean through flesh and muscle, emerging from his back.

John gasped, flames sputtering from his mouth, before collapsing to one knee.

And then he fell to his knees.

Then—

"YOU!"

Toby flickered in, his fist blazing with momentum, and slammed it into Killa mid-spin.

A sickening crack echoed as her arm twisted unnaturally. She was launched backward, crashing into a wooden beam that splintered under the impact.

John coughed, blood on his lips. "You okay?!" Toby asked, his voice strained with concern.

"Just scratches," John muttered, his voice barely audible, yet defiant.

Killa groaned, face contorted with pain. With a sharp yank and a grunt, she pulled her dislocated arm back into its socket, trembling from the pain.

"Who are you, brat?" she hissed, eyes burning with fury and recognition of his strength.

Toby raised his fist. "I'm going to be the Ashkin King!"

John nodded. "She's yours."

Toby flickered forward.

Flickers. Punches. Kicks.

Chain daggers whistled violently through the air. Killa spun on her heel, deflecting the strikes with practiced ease and lashing out in return with vicious precision.

"You're fast," she sneered, sidestepping a flicker-strike and narrowly avoiding Toby's foot. "But you're also loud, sloppy... predictable."

Whip! Her chain screamed as it sliced the air and slammed brutally into his back.

Toby cried out, his body contorting from the impact as he hit the ground hard, gasping. Dust rose around him as he struggled to stand, pain etched on his face.

Killa stalked forward, the chain in her hand coiling and uncoiling like a living thing. "Speed is nothing without control, boy."

Toby screamed and rolled.

John, rising weakly, looked around. Fires. Helos ashkins downed. Screams.

"Evacuate!" he shouted. "Evacuate the camp!"

The Helos camp burned, and the night was far from over.