"You all want something," Throné said, watching the eight of them stand in the moonlit plaza. "Osvald wants revenge. Castti wants her memory. Partitio wants to end poverty. Hikari wants his throne. Temenos wants the truth. Agnea wants her stage. And me? I just want to be free."
"Why would a god allow falsehood?" Temenos asked, examining a dead heretic. "Simple. Because gods don't write books. People do."
"Ladies and gentlemen," Agnea said, her voice carrying like a bell. "This story is for you. It is called… The Eightfold Path of Light. "
"You're a strange one," Osvald muttered, accepting a scrap of cloth to bind his wound. "You dance, I burn bridges. We walk different paths."
Meanwhile, in the storm-lashed Isle of Toto'haha, a warrior of the beastkin named —a prince in exile—was fighting for his soul. His brother had seized the throne of Ku and unleashed a dark blood curse within Hikari, a shadow self that emerged in battle, whispering ruin. Hikari traveled to gather allies who could help him reclaim his kingdom without becoming the monster his brother was.
Agnea smiled. "Then let our paths run side by side for a while. Even a shadow needs a little light."