They all held rusty and dull weapons, wearing their worn-out garments, and staring intensely at the Morian. The cloudy sky covered the sun at that moment.

He focused, putting his hand near his sheath. "Enemies and friends are torn all the time. One day, this will all be mended back together," he uttered. "I won't kill any of you. For Axel," he whispered, before pulling on the axe and slicing through the thin air.

He ran down, as people screamed out, attacking him with all they had. They swung their weapons and threw their fists and after a while, Bancho had to slow down, stepping down each stair one at a time, deflecting their shots with his weapon. He broke the many thin blades which surrounded him, crouched and struck their legs with the blunt part of the axe, pushing the crowd further along.

He jumped up, climbing around their backs, before someone grabbed his leg, pulling him towards the ground and kicking his old face, barely missing his nose. He turned around, before throwing his axe to the sky, as a velvet eye appeared. A stream of water flew out of its end, spawning endless liquid, which, with each second grew denser and had more volume. It started pushing everyone around, alongside Bancho, who swam effortlessly, leaping forward.

A half-demon sprinted, with a knife below his crotch and a crazed look on his face. He headed right towards Pearl, ready to stab the horse's side. Bancho bit his lip, and the axe hurried back into his hand. With a throw, it found itself stuck in the adjacent wooden wall, and the same person man screamed, fearfully.

Bancho pushed him away, using the axe as a stepping tool and cutting off the line around the fence. He moved back, grabbing the weapon and erecting a watery path around the people who tried to stop him.

Soon, he made it past the front gate, and the Morian turned, seeing as all the people waited, and Phillip pushed himself through the crowds.

The two glanced at each other for a moment more. It seemed like Phillip wanted to say something, but a word wasn't uttered.

Bancho smiled, waving, before disappearing around the hill.

***

The horse kept treading, way faster than it did before. Deep inside, Bancho knew that the townspeople wouldn't chase any further, but then again, it was a world that refused to stay in one place. Things always continued to surprise him.

Once again, he found himself below the Whiteburn Mountains, glancing at what once was a friendly sight, orange roofs, and beige walls, all slowly tilting upwards, with a church at the top. When the sun shone, it cast colourful lights right onto Axel's throne/ But now, it was nothing but an empty memory of former glory.

The Morian made his way down through many pools of water, as the horse jumped around its shallow ends, treading down thick, dark green paths. He passed by tops, which kept extending up, with a massive river flowing in the middle. Sometimes, the water would stick out from below and reveal itself to the ones passing above. Its blues, natural and drinkable would turn sour, and then salty when Bancho found himself closer to the mountains.

The clouds lowered, passing through the rocks, and creating a fog above a waterfall. The grass grew bigger and longer, and eventually, Bancho couldn't see out of it. Pearl stopped before leaping over, as a clearer road appeared. It wasn't green, but grey, next to the first trees which would eventually spiral into Lignoria. To the right were big and small rocks, and in the far distance, stood a stone building, with a massive, decorated roof above it. Bancho stopped, breathing in.

He left Pearl near a big, beige wall, patting her head and giving her some of the seeds he had, before stepping to the side, seeing a long staircase, leading up to an entrance. The sun finally shone through the rainy clouds, and as he made his way up, glimpses of a rainbow appeared.

The inside looked as if it had already been there for hundreds of years. Some of the walls were old, and the steps he took led to a rather mossy square. In the middle, stood a small garden, with one bigger tree, two smaller ones, a few pink bushes, and a fountain in the middle. There were many glassless windows, leading to the outside, and another set of stairs digging up from here to the heights of Malikan again.

Most importantly, he spotted the actual structure he was looking for. Pillars separated a dark entrance and soon, someone stepped out of its hushed insides.

"I knew you'd come sooner, or later." A voice echoed, as an old man, with a long beard, colourful cloak and a big hat trod forward.

Bancho turned, with a slight beam. "I wanted to ask why you didn't receive my letter, but I figured as much already."

"You were always bright," Axel answered, in a raspy voice. Unlike Bancho, his accent was much softer, much closer to the Manjuno Paladians spoke in. "If the world would turn dark forever, you'd be the light."

"As would all the Wise. I only got a hint when stepping into Hakh-Nivena, but then followed through after a rather... unpleasant meeting with pastor Philip."

"Sana Phillip," Axel muttered. "I see." he stepped back, turning around. "Do come in."

"Axel, do you want to tell me what all of this is about?" he raised his hand, and Axel scratched his nose. "Things changed in town. I was attacked, and Phillip told me you swore off Pasto."

"Nothing is too different, Bancho. I am still of faith, just in something that varies what you used to know."

Bancho stepped closer to the entrance, as the dimness met both figures. No light came from the inside, and even the sun didn't dare to peek in.

"No matter how you put it. I was forced to notice the changes." Bancho nodded. "Why this path, Axel?"

Axel sighed. "Tell me, Bancho, if you had to put it all on the line to protect the ones you care about, would you do it?"

"Of course." Bancho immediately replied.

"Even abandoning what you had? Letting people tell you that you've gone mad?" Axel looked up.

Bancho didn't answer.

"Take off your boots, and socks, and wash your feet in the fountain. Then, you can step in. It's quite warm, don't worry." Axel said, standing on the doorstep, with his bare feet.

Following his words, he did exactly what his friend told him. Axel glanced at times, with a smile and Bancho breathed out, shaking his head. Eventually, the two wandered in, with Axel holding the Morian's hand, treading a red carpet.

The floor was checkered and had many black and purple tiles spread around. Where the tapestry ended stood a fence, guarding the blackness stretching inside.

"What you're looking at, my dear friend, is a result of faith," Axel said.

"Faith? It seems quiet."

"By definition, faith is belief in something. Perhaps otherworldly, or maybe as humane as a Paladian sleeping in the Gorro's grass." Axel explained. "As you might've learned, it was the Kabun clan who stabbed us in the back. Their power meant that everyone else in the world was of the same idea. That a place as wretched to the eyes as Hakh-Nivena should've never existed. They don't want half-demons to live in peace amongst Erans, and no matter how much we prayed, salvation wouldn't come. Do you know who reached out to us, in the end?"

Bancho furrowed his eyebrows. "Demons."

"They're not as different from us, after all.," he added. "They're merciful if you treat them like you're on the same page." Axel looked up, stretching his arms into the darkness.

"The same thing was said during the Second War. There was no arguing back then and there still isn't any, even now."

Axel didn't answer.

"They all want to kill us, and we're only fighting back."

"Can you feel it, Bancho? He's here, looking at you."

The Morian turned towards the darkness, to spot a pair of shining white eyes, greeting him on the other end, with a lowly growl.

"He welcomes you in his home." Axel continued.

"There's no such thing as a good demon, Axel," Bancho said. "You'd know better."

"Who writes the rules?" Axel turned his head.

"None of the Wise would be proud of this. They'd reject you, and wouldn't be as understanding as I'm trying to be." Bancho uttered.

"They're dead," Axel said, as his voice echoed. "Cynthia, Darius. They've been dead for hundreds of years. Nothing will change that." he added, in half a whisper.

The demon groaned, and Bancho moved back.

"I was led to this temple by one of them. A humble demon, offering his companionship against the Kabun. The threats were defeated, and I was bestowed his power, for exchange that I'd stay here and watch him grow in strength. Soon, it's going to be him protecting the town of Hakh-Nivena. Not Pasto, or other faith." he beamed. "They understood my pain when nothing else did. We stand on the same level now."

Bancho shook his head, stepping to the side, as his tread echoed inside.

"Bancho" Axel said, putting his hands together. "I still trust your wisdom."

"I trust yours as well," Bancho muttered. "Just because we're different, doesn't mean we must fight or quarrel."

"Exactly, much like with faith. You believe in Shin, and I trust equal to us demons. Would you reject a Paladian for having no faith?"

Bancho closed his eyes, for a moment. "No, of course not."

Axel smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We're still the Wise. Remember that."

Bancho turned around. "I know, Axel. I know."

***

In a room above the main hall, Bancho sat on a chair, eyeing a bracelet with a thunder emblem attached to it, that lay on the table, with the distant sun rays cascading over the faraway mountains and reaching the window.

"I'm assuming you've heard the rumours," Axel muttered, putting a cup of tea next to Bancho and sitting down as well.

"I'd be damned to call them rumours," Bancho answered, putting his fingers above his temple. "Facts, Axel."

"Right," Axel continued. "A woman was attacked if I'm not mistaken."

Bancho glanced up.

"The demon said so. It's much wiser than I am, in that department." he chuckled.

Bancho nodded. "She was a great friend of mine, and now her kid is setting out towards the Demonear test. The fire from that night paved the way to every other thing crashing down."

"No one has ever attacked Mistwick beforehand. Something must be at play here. Do you think?"

"I want to reject the idea of Shi Hon having anything to do with what happened then," Bancho said. "But, much like Phillip said. Things have changed."

"They're still changing, as we speak, and unfortunately, it's not that simple." Axel looked down, breathing in.

"What do you mean?" Bancho inched closer.

"Errarion in itself seemed to be in some sort of an uproar as of late. The Kabun attack being one of the many contributing factors to a neverending rampage." Axel stood up. "I was more surprised that it was the first time you've heard about it."

"No one said a thing."

"...and then everyone speaks so profoundly that rumours fly around Errarion like eagles over the Haran desert. I'd say, it's the silence that makes things happen. The unexpected turns into reality, and as I'd like to call it, history repeats itself, over and over again. For example, Magna has always been a common target for attacks, either by demons or the goblins, trying to desperately fulfil their greedy needs," Axel spoke.

"What are you implying?"

Axel shook his head, breathing in. "The last time it happened, it spawned from silence. No one trusted Darius' words, and either way, he ended up as their sacrifice. I could recall those days like all the stones from Saphrith's Soma Area. Back then, it was the-"

"-atmosphere, the uneasiness in sleeping in the dark and the lights which didn't shine as brightly." Bancho finished his words. "The same things that are happening now."

Axel closed his eyes. "It's the demon's words."

"If they come out of your mouth, Axel, then I'm willing to trust its message."

"If silence is there to keep everything at bay, hope dies."

"Tell me, Axel." Bancho put his hands together. "Please."

The other Wise turned, before taking the same seat and staring right at Bancho's furrowed brows.