The golden hues of sunset spilled across the vast grasslands as Toby, Reu, and Brea rode slowly across the countryside, their horses trotting with a gentle rhythm. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting elongated shadows that danced across the gently swaying fields. The sky blazed with streaks of orange, lavender, and crimson, like an artist's canvas washed with the final colors of day.
Every now and then, a soft breeze would rustle the tall grasses and carry with it the distant songs of meadowlarks and the rustling of leaves, wrapping the travelers in nature's gentle lullaby. In that serene moment, it felt as though time itself had slowed, as if the world was holding its breath in reverence to the beauty of twilight.
The wind carried with it the rich scent of soil and the sweet perfume of wildflowers, swaying the tall grass around them like waves in a sun-drenched ocean. Birds called lazily overhead, their silhouettes dark against the gold-streaked sky. The horses' hooves made gentle thuds on the dirt trail, harmonizing with the soft rustle of grass.
The trio had not yet crossed Prenia's boundary, but already, the horizon ahead painted the promise of distant lands. The road to Gresia—the northern town of Felily that served as the threshold to Gastonmere—lay stretched before them like a ribbon of stories yet to be told. As twilight thickened around them, the shadowy line where earth met sky seemed both inviting and foreboding, whispering of trials and triumphs that would shape their journey.
Toby, as usual, rode behind Reu, his arms loosely gripping Reu's waist. He leaned slightly to the side, his eyes drinking in the changing colors of the sky.
"Reu," Toby said, voice mellow, "We should camp here. This plain gives us visibility in all directions. We'll see anything—or anyone—coming."
Reu nodded in agreement, pulling his horse to a halt. "Good call. And this place is quiet. No signs of patrols or beasts."
Brea halted behind them, sighing as she awkwardly dismounted her horse. The jumbled clatter of pots, pans, and clinking jars echoed as her many bags slapped against one another. She looked absolutely fed up.
"Hey boys? How about a little help here?! Or do you plan to let me collapse under the weight of my entire pantry?"
Reu turned around slowly, one brow raised high. "Brea, did you seriously pack your entire tavern? What's in there—chairs, a table, your secret soup stock from childhood?"
Toby doubled over laughing. "AHAHAHA! Reu, stop it! You're killing me! She might actually have the bar counter in there."
Brea narrowed her eyes, placed her hands on her hips, and gave them a death glare worthy of any commanding officer. "Shut your mouths and help me, you two overgrown toddlers, or so help me I'll use these bags as bludgeons."
Toby choked back more laughter and rushed to grab the largest bag. "Yes ma'am! At your service!"
Reu sighed, muttering, "I left behind civilization for this..." But he moved to help, grumbling under his breath the entire time.
Toby hopped down and hurried over with a grin, grabbing two of the heavier-looking satchels. Reu followed reluctantly, muttering about back pain and unnecessary weight.
Before long, Reu had crafted a fire pit with surrounding stones, and Brea had arranged slabs to make a makeshift cooking surface. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the flames danced in front of them, casting orange shadows across their faces.
Brea, crouched by the fire, stirred a simmering pot. "You know, I could cook even if we were in the middle of a blizzard. You two would starve without me."
Reu smirked. "I bet you could cook Toby too, with all the spices you've got in that bag."
Brea grinned wickedly. "Don't tempt me. I've always wondered what roasted idiot tastes like."
Reu laughed and shook his head. "You're not so bad... for someone who almost tried to throw a chair at a paladin."
Then Brea reached into one of Reu's side satchels, pulling out a small bottle. "Catch!"
"What the—?" Reu barely caught it, eyeing it suspiciously. "This better not be poison."
Brea rolled her eyes. "It's ale. You're welcome. For, you know, saving my life. And my father's."
Reu blinked. "Ah. Well... thanks. You're not so bad either."
Toby leaned back against a rock and smiled at the warmth between them. The fire crackled softly, and for a moment, there was peace.
"Hey Brea," Toby asked, spooning some of the stew she'd passed to him. "You never told us much about your father. He wasn't just a tavern owner, right?"
Brea's face softened. She looked into the fire. "He used to tell me stories when I was little. Back when I didn't even know what the word 'ashkin' meant."
Toby leaned forward. Reu stopped sipping his ale.
"His name's Peter Duma. But in the past... he was known as Ember Fist Pete."
Toby's mouth dropped. "Wait... the Ember Fist? From the Maxxy Knights?"
Brea nodded. "Yes. His chief was Maxxy—Maximus Redlan. A powerful ashkin with the power of molten fire. Together with his group, the Maxxy Knights, they traveled across Fiejin: from the Crystal Fields of Henryvill to the ruined Spires of Santa Clara. They protected villages, overthrew tyrants, and even defeated a tyrant beast in the wilds of Seth."
Reu's eyes widened. "He traveled the whole continent?"
Brea smiled with pride. "He did. But when he met my mother, he left the Knights. Said he finally found something worth settling down for."
Toby looked at the fire with reverence. "There are other continents too, right? Paradisi, Zarkun, and that central one for the Meredans."
"One day, I want to visit them all," Toby said dreamily.
Reu grunted. "Ambitious. You better live long enough."
Brea clapped her hands with mock seriousness. "Alright, team, let's talk business. We can't keep traveling without a name. It's practically against the ashkins' code."
Toby scratched the back of his head and said earnestly, "What about... Obi Knights?"
Reu nearly choked on his stew, coughing as he sputtered, "Obi Knights? That sounds like a bad tavern act. Or worse—a dish at a food stall nobody orders."
Brea burst into laughter, doubling over. "Oh, that's rich. If we call ourselves that, I'll change my name and walk back to Prenia."
Toby frowned, crossing his arms. "Alright, alright. What do you suggest then, oh wise one?"
Brea raised a finger dramatically. "Brea Knights."
"NOT A CHANCE!" Toby and Reu roared in perfect unison, glaring at her.
Reu shook his head, still grinning. "Most groups choose something meaningful—something that reflects their leader, their mission, or their origin. Not their cook's ego."
Brea shrugged, clearly amused. "Okay, fine. But let's come up with something that at least sounds like we know what we're doing. We've got powers, a dream, and a story unfolding under the stars..."
"Then how about... Vesper Knights?" Brea suggested thoughtfully.
Toby tilted his head. "Vesper?"
"It means evening. And your power is shadow-based, right? Shadows... night... Vesper. Sounds cool, doesn't it?"
Reu mulled it over. "It's not bad."
Toby's eyes lit up. "Vesper Knights. Yeah. That sounds awesome."
Brea jumped up and punched the air. "VESPER KNIGHTS!!!"
"Shhh!" Reu hissed. "Do you want to attract ashkins? Or worse, paladins?"
Toby laughed, then turned thoughtful. "Hey Reu. You asked earlier about my power. It's from a heartstone."
Reu nodded. "That much is obvious. But how did you get it?"
Toby leaned back, grinning. "I was ten. Beau—Beau from the Veritas Knights—came to visit Berta. He had a small glowing box. I was curious... opened it... and poof! The heartstone entered me."
Brea blinked. "Wait—you know Beau? The fat guy with the speed and sword skills?"
Toby sighed. "Yes. That Beau."
Reu's voice grew quiet. "And it chose you..."
Brea looked over. "What was that?"
Reu shook his head quickly. "Nothing. Just thinking. We should get some sleep. Long day ahead."
The fire crackled as the night deepened, casting a warm, flickering glow that held back the darkness just beyond the circle of their camp. Crickets began their nightly chorus, and a soft wind rustled through the tall grass like whispers between unseen spirits.
One by one, the trio settled into their bedrolls. Reu, ever watchful, chose the edge of the firelight, his sword propped beside him. Brea tucked her bags close, pulling her blanket around her shoulders as she stared quietly at the stars, their light twinkling like distant fires in the vast dome above. Toby lay on his back with his hands behind his head, his eyes wide with wonder, tracing imaginary constellations and dreaming of lands far beyond the horizon.
"We really are doing this," he murmured to himself. "A real ashkin group. The Vesper Knights..."
The words lingered in the air like a promise.
In the distance, a lonely howl pierced the night—faint, but enough to remind them of the wild world that waited beyond. Yet none stirred. They had made their choice. The journey was theirs now, the path uncertain but thrilling.
And this was only the beginning.