[Flamescion]

The relief barely had time to settle before the memory of Ahria hit Flamescion. She remembered her friend's state by the barn and started running.

When she got there, her heart stopped. Ahria was lying on her back, her body contorting in violent spasms. Every time she tried to breathe, she coughed up a bubbling mix of air and blood. Her eyes had rolled back.

Kneeling beside her in the muddy ground was the little village girl—the same one who had asked about their hair colors the day before. The girl held the healer's hand firmly, with zero fear in her large brown eyes.

"She needs to absorb the earth's essence, or she'll die!" the little girl yelled, her childish voice carrying a staggering amount of knowledge.

The girl didn't hesitate. Using her two small hands, she took Ahria's trembling hand and forced her open palm against a patch of damp, wild grass that still survived near the barn wall.

"Pull!" the girl ordered.

At first, nothing happened. But then, a faint aura began to emanate from Ahria. The lush green grass touching her hand started to shrivel. Within seconds, the blades dried up, turning into a yellow, dead mat.

The miracle was immediate. Ahria's body relaxed, the spasms ceased entirely, and her agonized breathing steadied. She opened her eyes, the pale blue returning to her irises, as her internal organs resumed their functions without the desperation of magical exhaustion.

Flamescion approached, breathless. Fauna hopped down from a roof, leaning on her bow as she got closer.

"It was the lack of Essence," Fauna realized, her voice thick as she stared at the circle of dead grass. "To use our powers in this world, we have to steal the vital essence around us."

The village girl nodded, gently letting go of Ahria's hand. "Mommy told me. Absorbing the pure essence of living things, like plants or small creatures, is the most effective way for you to use your magic."

"But what about normal people?" Flamescion asked, still gripping her axes, confused by Primitia's bizarre biology. "How do they survive if they don't steal the life from plants barehanded?"

"They can do it just by eating normal food," the little girl explained simply. "But someone doing heavy magic like yours would have to eat very, very large amounts of food every day, at all hours, and even then it would be slower to process. It's faster through the earth."

Flamescion blinked, absorbing that vital piece of information the gods had neglected to share with them in Hyperion. Ahria sat up, leaning against the wall.

Flamescion looked at the little girl, whose face was stained with soot and smoke. "Thank you. You saved her life," she said genuinely.

The little girl offered a sad smile as she stood up. "You're welcome, Lady of Fire. I'm going to try and find my group... I'm going to try and find my mother in all this."

She gave a small wave and disappeared into the rubble of the burned inn, leaving them there, alone and wounded, surrounded by death. They, who had descended from heaven to be the shields of the world, had failed their first trial: they hadn't just lost Neiva and Yae; they had also lost a piece of their divine dignity.

Flora approached slowly, her gaze still haunted by the surrounding carnage. She kneeled next to Ahria, touching her shoulder with extreme delicacy. "How do you feel?" Flora asked, her voice a fragile whisper.

Ahria took a deep breath, looking at her own hands, still dirty with the soil of the grass she had just killed. "It's terrifying," she confessed, her trembling voice breaking the silence that had settled. "The pain and the feeling of reaching absolute exhaustion... Your whole body aches in an inexplicable way. You feel dizzy, a weakness that robs the weight from your bones, uncontrollable spasms... It's a heat so cold it's impossible to explain. You feel your organs stopping, one by one, slowly. And finally, your own heartbeat starts to fade. It's death pulling you by the stomach."

Gigroth, who had leaned against the barn wall, coughed to clear the remaining smoke and looked at Ahria with profound respect. "Thank you, Ahria. You risked your own life, your very being, to pull me out of that room. I owe you my life."

Flamescion looked at the ground, feeling the weight of her own arrogance bite at her conscience. She adjusted the axes on her belt and sighed. "And I'm sorry for my recklessness. I was hard on you and forced you to use your powers when you knew the risk you were running. I shouldn't have done that."

Ahria shook her head softly, forcing a tired smile. "It's okay, Flamescion. We're in a world where we have to give everything we have, always. And... thank you for trusting that I'd be capable."

Flora looked at the circle of dead, yellow grass around Ahria. The pain in her eyes was palpable, as if every dry blade of grass was a stab to her own vital domain. "Now that we've learned how to use magic in this world, we'll have to practice absorbing Essence," Flora began, clutching her hands to her chest. "But please... I ask that we be prudent. By doing this, we are killing innocent life. I understand the necessity and urgency of our survival, but I ask that you have compassion for the earth that feeds us."

They all gave a silent, affirming nod. She was right. They couldn't turn into life-sucking monsters purely out of convenience.

"So much morality for fallen goddesses," a cold, silky voice echoed from the dark alley between the barn and the neighboring house.

Tenebris emerged slowly from the shadows, walking with the same lethal elegance as always, as if the entire village weren't bathed in blood and ash. "I honestly didn't count on our victory," Tenebris admitted, stopping at a safe distance from the group, an indecipherable smile playing on her lips.

Ahria gritted her teeth and leaned against the wall to stand up. "It's incredibly convenient that you only show up now, Tenebris. Whenever the battle ends and the danger passes, you emerge from the shadows."

"Calm down, Ahria," Flamescion intervened, crossing her arms. "She helped. I saw her. She attacked the archers and commanders from a distance when I was cornered."

Gigroth narrowed her eyes, evaluating the Primordial of shadows from top to bottom. "What puzzles me isn't where you were, but how you did what you did. How are you able to use your powers so easily since we arrived in Primitia, without needing to drain plants like us?"

Tenebris dusted an imaginary speck from her dark cloak. "I suffer from a unique condition, Gigroth. A rare condition I already carried even in Hyperion. But for now, that's all you need to know. Believe it or not, absorbing essence from the earth is just as new to me as it is to you."

"Unique condition? Secrets?" Flamescion retorted, taking a firm step toward her. Her patience for games was running out. "There are no secrets among the Primordials. We fell together, we fight together."

Tenebris let out a short, dry laugh. "Oh, no? No secrets among us?" She tilted her head, her eyes sparking with a lethal venom. "Then tell me, oh fearless leader... where are Stella, Neiva, and Yae?"

Silence fell over them like a lead blanket. Ahria took a step forward, fists clenched. "They didn't stay in the inn! The fire and the guards must have separated them from us. I know them, they would never leave us behind!"

"You knew them so well," Tenebris shot back, her voice dropping to a cruel, sharp whisper, "that you didn't even notice Stella was already planning to abandon you since the party at the inn last night. Do you really think their disappearance during a village attack was a coincidence? They abandoned you."

Ahria went pale, the words hitting her deeper than the magical exhaustion from moments ago. She opened her mouth to argue, to deny it, but Flamescion intervened before the group could crumble right then and there.

"Enough!" Flamescion growled, her voice echoing with the authority that once belonged to the 'princess of light'. "If they chose to follow a different path or if they fled, they probably had their reasons. But we cannot, and will not, sit here waiting for them. We have to act."

Tenebris simply smiled at Ahria—a smile that mixed pity and triumph—before looking away.

They left the argument behind and walked toward the center of the village. The surviving villagers gathered around the well, putting out the smaller fires and covering the bodies of the fallen. The village leader, a man with a lined face and singed beard, was organizing the few provisions that were left.

"What are you going to do now?" Flamescion asked him, stopping in front of him.

The elder looked at the ruins of his house and sighed, the weight of the world carved into his shoulders. "We avoided abandoning the village for a long time, my lady. We thought we could hold out, that the debt would protect us. But we can't anymore. There's nothing left to defend. We truly have to leave."

"Where do you plan to go?" Gigroth asked, leaning heavily on her feet.

"To the northwest," the leader replied, pointing toward the distant mountains. "Toward the kingdom's capital. We need to inform the king about this mercenary attack and find shelter within the walls until the war calms down."

Flamescion turned to the remaining Primordials. Her original group of nine was reduced to six. "What do you say? Shall we escort them and make sure they reach the kingdom safely?"

Tenebris didn't answer. She only gave them that enigmatic smile, took a step back, and, as if the air swallowed her, vanished into the shadows of the ruins.

Flora, Fauna, and Gigroth didn't hesitate. They nodded in agreement, ready for the march. Only Ahria stood motionless, her gaze still lost in the direction of the burned inn, reluctant to accept that her friends of centuries had left her behind. But then, she took a deep breath. She brought a hand to her face, wiping away the soot and the fragility all at once. When she looked up again, Ahria's expression was perfectly neutral. Hard. Cold. The warmth and innocence had died right there.

"I agree," Ahria said, her voice devoid of emotion.

The villagers began preparing the few intact wagons, gathering the children and picking up weapons from the ground. Flora stood before the corpse of the child with an expression of sadness and pain. She crouched down, covered the terrified child's eyes, and, utilizing the lesson of draining energy, reversed the process to bloom their body into a field of funerary flowers.

Without looking back, the new, fragmented sisterhood joined the caravan, beginning the long march to the northwest.