“Beyond the barrier?” Bren asked in a whisper, his voice quiet and full of uncertainty. His eyes were on the unfamiliar map that had been drawn in the journal, his fingers brushing over the textured parchment as he followed the strokes of ink. “Are you saying these are ruins of a city outside of Vitalos?”

Ryva smirked, raising a brow. “Ruins? Who said anything about ruins?”

Bren blinked at him in shock, his mouth falling open slightly as he caught the tone in the demon’s voice and understood the implication. “You can’t be serious. You’re saying this is a civilization beyond the borders? A city like Vitalos?”

Amused by Bren’s disbelief, Ryva let out in a droll, “Are you surprised? Thought this was the only one, did you?” He chuckled, grinning as he tittered at Bren. “The world is a very big place, sweetheart. Bigger than this cage you find yourself in.”

Bren felt his upper lip curl in a snarl; he hated being talked to as if he were a stupid child. 

From the moment he found himself on the run, Bren knew he wouldn’t be able to stay in Vitalos, not for long. He’d told Archer as much when they’d been under the bridge after fleeing the manor; that if they were banished to the Wastelands, they’d find a way to survive…but he wasn’t sure he’d really meant it. 

Bren had imagined that if they found themselves exiled, they’d spend the little left of their lives on the run. They’d make camp somewhere and find a way to stave off the monsters as long as they could… Use the demon to aid them and protect them…

But what Ryva was suggesting was insanity. To choose to leave Vitalos and expect that there might be a realm of safety? A place with people surviving out in the nothingness filled with monsters?  

Bren couldn’t imagine that. 

Memories seized his mind as he recalled the night he’d returned from the black market… the night before the massacre. Though it had really only been yesterday, it felt like a lifetime ago. Still his mother’s warning cries filled his mind. You’d never survive the Wastelands! No one does! 

There was acid in Bren’s throat as he blinked back up at Ryva, the demon standing steadfast at his side. Bren sucked in a deep breath as he tried not to think about Ryva’s otherworldly advantages and charms. “To suggest that there’s a city, inhabited and thriving… The Wastelands are just that, a wasteland. It’s filled with nothing but corruption that will eat at your soul, far faster than it would naturally affect any Umbra by using magic. There is nothing waiting for us out there other than destruction. Nothing can survive past the barrier, not like this.”

Ryva’s hot red eyes stared at Bren as he smiled cunningly, raising an ashen brow. “Is that so?” he murmured, his deep voice leaving him with a soft grunt of amusement. Smoke curled around Ryva, causing him to disappear into thick ghostly swirls of black fog, only to reappear a few feet away; it was as if walking was too mundane for the demon.  

Appearing next to a vine of strange flowers, glowing just as eerily as Ryva’s eyes, the demon reached his hand toward them. He touched the petals tenderly, the same way he had caressed Bren’s cheek. They didn’t seem to cut him as they had Bren, Ryva gazing at them almost fondly. “These can survive corruption…” he murmured, his eyes flicking back to where Bren still stood near the center of what had been the summoning ring; it was all ghostly cracked earth now, charred along the lines of enchantments. “You’ve heard of creatures beyond your protective walls… Perhaps you’d be surprised what else has made a life out there.” 

Bren swallowed, his jaw clenched almost as tightly as his hands were around the journal. 

It was Archer that stepped forward, harsh and seething as he snapped, “I thought you said you couldn’t remember your time in the mortal plane. How the hell do we know you’re not lying? Or that things have changed since you’ve last been here?” Archer’s teeth were bared almost viciously as he inquired, “What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m never wrong,” Ryva replied almost instantly with a grin. “And the world has not changed. Not that much. It’s true, when I leave this realm my memories can often fade, but it’s the interactions I sometimes forget. The people I meet…the things I’ve done.” His voice was dark and threatening, a baleful look in the way he stared at Archer that made even Bren shudder. “I’ve traveled places you’ve never dreamed of, so believe me, I know where this is. It is not some dilapidated city lost long ago…and it is not in Vitalos.”   

Bren’s brow pinched at the demon’s answer. For once, he took Archer’s side as he stated defensively, “We’ve been taught by our very parents that the Wastelands are uninhabitable… Are you saying they were lying to us?” Bren’s voice carried through the clearing, anxious and full of inhibition as it echoed back to him, hanging around his ears. 

Grinning, Ryva let his hand fall away from the flower, eyes locked onto Bren as he said, “When you’ve been told a lie enough times it starts to sound very much like the truth. Doesn’t it? A belief you can pass down through generations…until someone questions it.” 

The demon went up into smoke once again, only for Bren to feel a warmth slide along his shoulders as Ryva materialized with his arm around him. It was odd for Ryva to seem like a shadow one moment and then feel so solid the next. 

Ryva’s hot breath was in his ear, whispering softly with that deep low voice, “You wanted the truth, didn’t you? You wanted answers.” His hand slid down Bren’s arm, moving to touch his waist as he pulled Bren closer to him, possessively. “Isn’t that why you summoned me?” 

Bren’s own words had become a weapon against him. Ryva was right, he did want the truth… But trusting the demon… 

Bren’s eyes flicked to Archer, his strong arms folded stiffly across his chest. He was silent, glaring at Ryva before his gaze snapped to Bren in question. 

Cautiously, Bren shrugged himself out of Ryva’s soft hold, facing him with gritted teeth. Taking in a deep breath, Bren asked as boldly as he could manage, “This place, drawn in the journal… If you’re right—”

“I am right,” Ryva interrupted, placing a hand on his hip as he gave Bren a cunning smile.

Grunting, Bren ignored his stammering heartbeat as he continued, pretending he hadn’t been interrupted, “If you are right, and it is a real city outside the borders, what would happen if we left? Would we be able to come back to Vitalos? Or would we be exiled…for good?”

A chuckle left the back of the demon’s throat, his eyes narrowing onto Bren as he answered, “There’s always a way through the barrier… Especially when you have a demon.” 

Bren let out the breath, relaxing slightly as he looked up once more to the sky. Beyond the shimmering dome of the barrier, he could see that the sky was lightening. The stars were beginning to fade, glistening not quite as brightly. “It’s almost dawn,” he murmured, blinking away from it as he turned to Archer, “We’ll lose cover at daybreak…and we can’t just stay here.”

Archer kissed his teeth as his shoulders slumped, gaze sliding to the thick coverage of trees. Though there was nothing but forest there, Bren knew Archer’s stare was looking toward the city center…to what had once been their home, though it had never really felt like it for Bren. 

“We have nothing to go back to,” Archer admitted in a gruff mutter, blue eyes looking back to Bren. When he spoke his voice was bitter, a passive-aggressive tone riding on the words as he said, “You’ve made every decision so far without me. Why should this one be any different?”

Bren felt a pang in his chest, his eyes stinging as he murmured, “Archer, that’s not true…”

“I’m not saying they were wrong…” Archer’s glare flicked to the demon as he grumbled, “Not all of them,” he looked back at Bren, shaking his head as he stated, “But it’s hardly like I’ve had a say in any of it.” 

Bren scoffed, snapping back in retort, “Archer, you chose to come with me through the Shadow Gate. You were the one that suggested we find a vessel! You’re the one that stole it—!”

“You fled! You needed it!” His voice was raised, making Bren flinch as his brother spat the words; he might as well have been hurling daggers the way they hit Bren painfully. “You needed me.”

“Well,” Ryva’s calm, deep voice slunk out of him as he took a step closer to Bren, “He doesn’t need you now.”

The words made Bren feel sick, disgust and rage filling him as he stared up at the demon. All his enamour faded as he spat back in defense of his brother, “Yes, I do!” 

He could see the moment of surprise on Ryva’s face, pale brows raised as he looked back at Bren. He smirked, leaning in as he whispered provokingly, “Oh my. You can be protective, too. What a pair you make.”  

Bren ignored him, facing his brother as he pleaded, “Archer, let’s be realistic. If we stay here, we’d be fugitives on the run from prosecutors. Out there…” Bren wasn’t sure there really was a chance ‘out there’. “What choice is there to make anyway?” 

Archer stared at him, eyes narrowed and unforgiving as he snapped, “You’ve already made it, Bren. You’re trying to convince me, but save your breath.” He let his arms fall to the side, exhaling a sigh of defeat. “We both know where we’re going. You know that I’m in this and that I’ll follow you, even past the barrier, so just…ask your boyfriend how we get there.”

Heat filled Bren’s cheeks, certain he’d turned as red as Ryva’s eyes. He wanted to deny it, but somehow the thought of addressing the accusation made Bren feel even worse. Though he was humiliated at Archer’s implication, it wasn’t the only thing coursing through Bren’s veins. 

Rage and spite boiled his blood as he snapped the journal closed and shoved it back into his coat pocket. 

Turning away from Archer, Bren buried all his doubt and worry. If Archer wanted him to make the decision alone, then he would. He’d do exactly what Ryva wanted…and give him an order. 

“Take us to the barrier, then. If we need to go through it, I assume you know how. No magic I know of can break the spells that form it.” Bren’s voice held authority in it; it was something he was good at when he was cross, his pride fueling him. 

Still, his heart ached knowing how much Archer really disapproved…and what he thought of him. Archer was right, he’d already made the decision. 

Swallowing the guilt, Bren watched as Ryva cocked his head to the side, flirtation in his gaze. It was as if Ryva was intrigued by this new aggression Bren had; perhaps the demon already knew it was a wall he put up to protect himself from even more hurt. 

“How do you want to get there, sweetheart?” Ryva asked, his elbow leaning on his crossed arm as he drummed his fingers on his chin. “It would barely take seconds by Shadow Gate—”

“No. We walk,” Bren demanded, his stomach squirming as he said, “I’m not using that much power when we’re so close to the border. We can’t get through the barrier that way in any case. The trees will give us the best coverage, especially since the sun is rising. So just…lead the way.” 

Though he expected the demon to be irritated, Ryva grinned at Bren, giving him a wink. “As you wish…master,” he murmured in a hush, a growl in his throat. His red eyes flicked to Archer for a moment before he turned his back on them both, leading them away from the clearing and the remnants of the summoning. 

Bren didn’t check to see if Archer was following him, though he was glad when he felt his brother’s presence at his side. 

It was eerie making their way deeper into the twisted forest, the flowers lighting their way like bloody orbs hanging listlessly from thorny vines. 

They didn’t speak. The only sounds that followed them were their footsteps cracking the dry soil and the sound of rustling branches as they passed through the warped trees. Bren could have sworn he heard movement in the distance, but it was too dark to know if it was just in his mind…or not.    

Time passed and the sky grew lighter, Bren’s eyes remaining focused on Ryva’s broad back. He scanned down Ryva’s muscular body to the dim glow that remained under the soles of his boots. He wondered if Ryva really was unable to set foot on mortal ground, caught mid-thought when the demon stopped abruptly. 

Bren almost collided with him, skidding in a cloud of dust as he stopped just behind the demon, Archer at his side. Unable to see past him, Bren stared up at the back of Ryva’s head as he whispered, “What is it? Why did we stop?”

Ryva’s voice was sinister as he murmured, “We’re at the border…” He turned to face Bren, almost entirely eclipsed in shadow…apart from his red glowing eyes, revealing a grin as he uttered, “And we’re not alone.”