Two months had passed, and the kingdom of Elden City never missed a beat. Planet after planet was brought in under La Mort’s regime.

  But things were different. Cane was different. He was out for blood, revenge, to prove he wasn’t weak and who had to pay the price for one’s anger—the neighboring planets that would not just lay down their arms and let La Mort walk all over them.

  It was a bloodbath. The planets were the canvas, and the blood the paint. Every time Cane stepped onto a planet that offered resistance, he painted the most brutal picture imaginable. It was truly the most heinous of scenes. A message to the galaxy, but more importantly, a mental message to himself: the seeds of weakness bore no place in his mind, body, or spirit, and he would continue his purge until the soil was uninhabitable, a forced exorcism on the part of him that made him weak in his eyes.

  Word traveled fast as resistances folded under the mere whisper of his name. Ezra, on the other hand, would allow the seeds to grow. All he could think of since he was a mere child was his mother. What did she look like, what did her voice sound like, and what would he say to her if he ever laid eyes on her? But now, it was more of a reality than fantasy.

  And as for Veronica, she kept her word to the Seer and to her people; she didn’t contact her sons and it was killing her on the inside. Sitting down giving speeches to thousands of her people but feeling dead on the inside. Looking over a room full of families, couples, and friends who had made a bond that would last a lifetime, all while she went home and the only thing that kept her company was a similar lit fire in her living room.

  But she could stand for it no more.

  As the sun set over the horizon, Veronica saw it as the perfect opportunity. She waited for the last of the guards to douse their torches, then snuck through the back of the city with her stones and chalk and scurried through the forest, making sure to look back in case she was followed.

  She ran deeper and deeper into the forest until she couldn’t see the village anymore, then she stopped. Turned around in a circle. There was nobody there, no witches hiding in the distance, so she began to set up, drawing the circle with her chalk and the symbols then placed the stones on the outside, creating a barrier for the spell.

  Veronica sat in the middle chanting and the symbols around her began to glow, creating a magic barrier that shot up out of the forest toward the sky. The light was bright, catching the attention of her fellow witches and wizards as they lay sound in their beds. Lights began to flicker in homes and the townsfolk quickly left their homes and met up in the town center.

  “What’s going on?” one of the villagers asked frantically, looking toward the Seer who was making her way down the center of the path.

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  “Veronica, what have you done, you stupid woman? I need six witches, the rest of you head back on inside.”

  Four witches and two wizards stepped forward. “Okay, let’s go,” said the Seer, seething that Veronica went back on her word.

  They charged through the forest with intent until Veronica was finally in sight. “Veronica,” the Seer shouted. “Stop this madness right now!”

  Veronica’s eyes glanced over to the Seer and the rest of the group, her eyes bright blue. She turned back and continued chanting.

  Cane was in the training room while Ezra was seated on his bed when their bodies suddenly went stiff and their eyes lit up bright blue and they were pulled into a vision.

  “She’s not going to stop, so we must stop her now before it’s too late,” said the Seer. “Everyone surrounded the portal and link hands now.”

  The wizards and witches stopped around the portal linking arms and began chanting over and over. But Cane and Ezra were already inside the spell. 675892—the numbers burned bright red in the black void.

  The witches and the wizards continued to chant, and the line that kept the circle together began to break and the numbers that burned brightly in the air began to fade.

  “Hold on—no, what do these numbers mean?” Ezra screamed. “Mother!”

  “Another feeble attempt to contact me, clearly I never made my intent clear last time,” shouted Cane. “Sixty days of not hearing your voice, just the endless screams of those begging for mercy has drowned out your effect, mother. I won’t play into your foolish games, a wounded animal will only fall for the same trap once. The boy you once knew, the one you abandoned died a long time ago.”

  Then suddenly, before either brother could say another word, the spell broke and Cane woke up from his trance still mid-punch, while Ezra sat there on his bed with tears of joy flooding his cheeks.

  “Are you okay, sire?” one of the soldiers asked cane. “You’ve been standing there for some time now.”

  “Of course I’m okay, you incompetent fool, why wouldn’t I be? Get back to work… now!”

  “Yes, sire,” the soldier responded then went straight back to work.

  Ezra’s "wake up" on the other hand was the polar opposite of Cane’s. While Cane was lashing out to reclaim control, Ezra was trying to stay perfectly still, as if any sudden movement would shake the red numbers out of his head.

  675892. A number that would be forever ingrained in his head. The number that would lead him to the answers he has so desperately craved.

  Back in the forest, the spell was broken but the message was received. Veronica sat sympathetically on her knees as the witches and wizards looked on in disgust.

  “How could you, Veronica? You know the dangers better than anyone. You know what La Mort will do to you, to us, if he finds this place.”

  Dirt clung to Veronica’s knees as she rose to her feet, keeping her head hung low. “I won’t apologize anymore for my actions; you talk about great sacrifices and the debt one must pay to be seated where I sit,” said Veronica, shaking her head. “I didn’t ask for a life of solitude, to never be able to see my children again; the hope of seeing them was the only thing that kept me going. But you want to condemn me for it? No!”

  Veronica stormed past the Seer, bumping into her shoulder as she did, and not looking back as she stormed back through the forest towards the village.

  “Seer,” one of the wizards asked. “What do we do now?”

  The Seer’s head slowly turned towards her people. “We prepare for the worst but hope for the best. We don’t know what will be coming our way.”