Cinco's gaze drifted back to the blackened, scorched earth where the current had just been.

“You're talkin' about Brennan. Here?” He sighed heavily, his expression hardening. “I wondered why that current felt like it was stronger than usual. The veins of these currents don't just snap like that for no reason. 

He turned back to the shimmering Light Horse, which began to dissipate onto soft, golden glitter now that the job was done. Zorn watched the magic fade, still reeling from everything. 

“Tracking a god isn't like tracking a runaway merchant, guys,” Cinco said, shifting his weight and folding his arms. “They don't leave footprints like the rest. If they're careless, they leave scars on the fabric of reality. Scars that bleed.” His eyes shifted toward the scorched grass from the current and the bones of animals surrounding the land.

“Donal knows that,” Khor replied, his voice regaining its usual sharp edge. “That's why he sent us to find you. He said you're able to see the ‘drift’ he leaves behind.”

Cinco stood there for a moment, holding his chin in thought. He looked at Zorn, really looked at him, scanning the red sparkling aura that clung to the boy like stardust.

“Scorpius,” Cinco muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “The Red Giant in the heart of the Scorpion, Antares. No wonder the Iron Veil is breathing down your neck,” he grinned as he tilted his head.

“You're a walking battery for the kind of power to make empires crumble, boy,” Cinco chuckled darkly at the end.

Zorn's eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat from the statement. He doesn't know how to feel about this revelation. If this is true, why can't he access this power? Why does he feel so weak and fragile?

“How do you know that much about me?” Zorn asked.

“It's in the aura. There's a name for you bright stars that glow greater than most in your constellation, or erm… have more than one star connected to you at least; a binary system,” Cinco replied scratching his temple.

“I'm a star curse,” Zorn finished.

“No, that's just an oppressive term placed on you. Star Soul is more appropriate to that, but your title for those like you are Boss Stars,” Cinco grinned. 

“Are you one?!” Zorn asked with admiration. 

“Nah,” Cinco said flatly. 

The excitement quickly vanished, his face going blank as if this was the most anticlimactic reveal ever.

“I'm a Numerical from numerology. We are a whole different type of thing going on,” Cinco smiled.

“You're a living number? What the…” Zorn's head was spinning with confusion. How could a number be a person? Or alive at that?! 

I really need to stop trying to add logic to everything in this world, he thought.

Cinco reached into the pockets of his duster and pulled out a small, leather bound compass, but instead of a needle, a liquid silver substance swirled behind the glass. “If the Moon God was here, he's headed for a nexus. Somewhere the veil is thin enough to plant his feet.”

He tapped the glass compass, and the silver liquid spiked toward the south, vibrating violently. 

“The Draconian White Palace,” Zorn whispered, remembering Bijal's map.

“Worse,” Cinco grumbled. “The Palace sits on the Moon's Eye, the largest convergence of currents in this hemisphere. If he reaches the throne room, he won't just be a god in dignity. He'll be the one holding the leash to every Mystic Current in Varnaiya.”

He looked at the two of them, his white stetson casting a shadow over his eyes. 

“I'll take the job. Not for Don's gold petals, but because I'm not fond of living in a world where the moon eats the sun,” Cinco said. He whispered sharply, and the air split once more. The rift hummed like a rumbling vibration. 

“Pack your nerves, boys,” the Ranger grinned, a wild, dangerous glint returning to his violet eyes. “We're taking the high road. We have a Palace to crash and a god to annoy!”

“But there isn't enough room on the horse!” Zorn yelled.

“Use your star, kid! It'll help you run through the air. Or fly. Your choice,” Cinco shrugged nonchalantly. 

“What?! My star?! What do you mean?!”

“Whaddya mean ‘what do you mean?!’” Cinco said, whipping his head over his shoulder. “You never used your star before!? You're Antares, right?! Feel the fire inside you!” 

“It's like back at the beach and the bridge,” Khor replied.

Zorn sighed with frustration. “I gotta get mad to use my abilities?! This is ridiculous! I don't know how to fully allow myself to just feel like that at will!” 

“Not what we mean!” Cinco said. “Passion! Confidence! Feel it!” he clenched his fist with a fire grin. 

“I don't know how to express myself, okay? At least, not thinking about my heartache, I don't. It's just anger sitting there,” Zorn sighed.

Cinco stepped closer, boots grinding into the scorched soil as he jabbed two fingers toward Zorn's chest; not touching him, gently hovering over it.

“You keep talkin’ anger. It's not anger you're looking for. Anger is cheap. Anyone can get mad,” Cinci said. “I'm talkin’ about the fire that makes a star ignite. The thing that makes you exist without needing the permission to. Hold that thought long enough, and the universe remembers who you are.” 

Zorn blinked rapidly. 

“That sounds like the opposite of what I was taught growing up. I suffer in silence. That's the way of the Sixth Realm.”

“Yeah, Kid, and it's making you a prisoner of your own power,” Cinco snorted, “because relying on bottled feelings turns stars into duds. I'm trying to turn you into an actual star.”

Khor crossed his arms. “You remind me of Bijal with how carefree you are.”

Cinco pointed at him without looking. “Bijal cheats at existence. Don't compare me to him. That's a whole different discussion, no time."

He snapped his fingers. A spark cracked through the air. 

“Kid, look at me.” 

Zorn swallowed and lifted his gaze.

Cinco's crystal blue eyes glowed with a fire that radiated with a focus of someone who had seen a thousand cosmic disasters and had the audacity to keep doing his job anyway.

“You ever want something so badly your bones hummed?” Cinco asked. “Ever cared so much it felt like your ribs were too small for your heart? That's who you are.”

Zorn's breath hitched. He looked down, feeling hesitant to go into himself. It was foreign to him. It felt confusing. He closed his eyes and took a breath. 

Memories flickered; Donal laughing with alcohol, Khor dragging him along, Moira offering him his gloves, Sabrina reaching toward him, then suddenly the hand reaching toward him flashes to Lira's face, calling out his name. His eyes shot open with a gasp. 

Cinco's grin broadened.

“Well? What do you feel? Don't fight it.”

Zorn clenched his hands, feeling heat ripple through his veins like a sun rising slowly to its peak. 

“Cinco…” he whispered. “I feel–”

“You feel your star?” 

“I feel nothing.” Zorn finished flatly and abruptly. 

The three of them fell quiet. A gust of wind rustled their clothes around the scorched field, breaking the awkward silence.

Khor facepalmed, disappointed. 

“Get on the damn horse,” Cinco said curtly with a blank face.