A NEW BEGINNING

Here rest those who could not bear the weight of night.

The hrav were their judges, their cries the sentence.

May no others rise from our bones.”

— preserved inscription on one of the burial mounds

***

Reng, Karhen Rouz

He was so close to his goal, yet inside he felt a distance far greater than the one he had crossed from the south to get here.

He had reached the Valley of Mysterra yesterday and made sure no one knew. Now he watched the oasis below through the cracked lenses of his binoculars. At first glance it looked just the same as when he’d slipped away from it in silence. An unchanged place that should have brought him peace, yet instead it stirred confusion and nerves that gnawed at his mind.

From his spot on the slope he could even see the house where he’d grown up. He assumed that if Ela ever came back, this was where she would go. But even though he had watched the lazy bustle of the oasis all day, there was no sign of the red-haired girl. He hoped she simply had not arrived yet.

He lowered the binoculars and bit into a raw greenavka he’d bought from a farmer along the way. He had long since taken off his armor and stitched the gash from the grenade shard with five clumsy stitches. The ugly scar and bruising hadn’t stopped her from eyeing him when he paid for the greenavka with an expelled kreliniak. He needed something that would last. She needed fresh meat.

When he lifted the binoculars again, his heart lurched. Noel.

Reng swallowed. Even from a distance you couldn’t miss how the old man’s back had bent under the weight of years and loss. His hair and beard were gray, his face worn, yet he walked with the same slow certainty as always. To Reng he wasn’t just another elder of the oasis. Time, which had smoothed the sharp edge of their quarrel and his flight, had left him only with the image of the man who had pulled him out of a cage, taught him to hunt, and raised him like a son among his own children.

Now he watched as Noel’s steps turned away from the house. Only two paths led from the gate: one toward the trade route through the valley, the other toward the cemetery. And Reng knew where he was going.

Seren had been the only one who still listened to him all those years.

But this time, he wouldn’t be alone. He just didn’t know it yet.

By the time Reng reached the cemetery, Noel was already standing by her mound. He leaned on his cane, his back bowed under the weight of the whole world. A simple grave marker, just a few stones stacked together, and a bowl of fresh josan fruit for the scaleback. The old man’s twisted fingers traced the cold surface of the mound. He stayed silent. After all these years, there were no words left.

Reng stopped behind the broad old tree and watched him. In every gesture he felt the loneliness that stabbed at his heart. This was the place where the revolution had begun, the one that had turned their lives inside out. It had taken something from Noel’s children and from him as well, but it had given something too. Yet in Noel he saw only loss.

For a moment he wanted to turn around and disappear. He knew this could be the moment when he might lose the last piece of home he still carried inside him. But in the end he stepped forward. A branch cracked under his boot.

Noel spun sharply, anger flashing at being disturbed. At first he didn’t recognize Reng, but the longer he looked, the more his expression shifted from anger to stunned disbelief. His eyes grew wet.

“Reng…” he breathed, stepping closer as if he needed to touch a ghost. “I barely recognized you!”

The old hands pulled him into an embrace. For a heartbeat, Reng felt everything he had lost rushing back to him.

“I thought you were dead. We all searched for you… but we never found anything. No one believed you’d made it out alive.”

Reng swallowed dryly. For years he had hoped that the old herder Kalen had at least told Noel that he’d left with his herd for Oko Lahab. But it seemed the man hadn’t had the courage to admit he’d lied, keeping Reng as another pair of hands for his livestock.

“I’m alive. And I’m here,” he said with a bitter half-smile. He hesitated before forcing out the only question that truly weighed on him.

“I… I’m looking for Ela.”

At the sound of her name, Noel’s face tightened in pain. He slowly sat down on his wife’s mound and looked Reng straight in the eyes.

“She… is gone. For good.”

Reng’s heart clenched. It had to be a misunderstanding.

“What do you mean… gone?”

“It’s been a long time.” The old man’s head dipped, as if the memories had just placed another burden on his already bowed shoulders.

“There were several attacks in Prim. The lab she worked in was leveled. It seems she was among the victims. I tried to look for her, but you know very well I can’t go to Prim. She hasn’t contacted anyone since.”

Reng felt his knees weaken again, this time from relief. He crouched beside Noel and gripped his shoulder firmly.

“She’s alive. Believe me.”

Noel shook his head sadly.

“I know it’s hard to accept, boy, but we can’t run from the truth. I’ve come to understand that my Fate is to end up alone.”

“But I talked to her,” Reng blurted. A faint smile touched his lips at the memory.

“It was only a few days ago.”

Truth be told, he and Ela hadn’t said much. But the important part had been said.

Noel lifted his gaze to him, eyes full of disbelief.

“You spoke to her?” he repeated quietly.

Reng nodded.

“I was as close to her as I am to you now. We agreed to meet in Karhen Rouz.”

The old man froze. It wasn’t clear whether he wanted to believe him, or whether he feared Reng was awakening a hope that would only break him again.

“But why? Why didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t she reach out if she’s alive…”

“Because she became a Mediator,” Reng answered without a moment’s hesitation, not realizing he was repeating the Beacon’s own words.

“And they are stripped of their past. So they can live only for what comes next.”

“A Mediator…” Noel slowly straightened and turned his gaze toward the mound.

“Do you hear that, Seren? Ela walks in your footsteps. Was this truly what you wished for?”

They fell silent. Only the chittering of the hravs disturbed the stillness of the cemetery.

Then Noel looked back at Reng, and for the first time there was a faint spark of the man Reng had known as a child.

“Something must have happened. The Beacon doesn’t just let its slaves go.”

Reng nodded. The shift from skepticism to determination stirred a strange relief in him.

“Good. Then we’ll do whatever it takes to protect her. We managed it with her mother, we’ll manage it with her too,” Noel said with sudden resolve, squaring his shoulders as if someone had lifted part of his burden. He wasn’t fully himself yet… but closer.

“I’ll go to the Council right now and tell them you’ve returned. I may have to remind them who I am before they take you back.”

“I don’t think they’d ever refuse you,” Reng said with a faint smile and turned to leave. But in that moment he sensed the old man’s body freeze.

He turned back. Noel had gone pale, his eyes wide with horror.

“That… that can’t be,” he breathed and stepped away, as if he suddenly needed a wall between them.

Reng understood instantly.

One glance at the glint of metal showing through his short hair was enough.

He knew that look. He’d seen it in many strangers.

But this was Noel.

The father who once took him in.

And now that father turned his face away in silence, as if he’d just embraced a ghost that, before his very eyes, had become a monster.

For a moment, everything around them stopped. Just the two of them, facing each other. Two worlds that never wanted to meet and yet were forced to collide.

“It’s not what you think,” Reng said quietly, though the exhaustion of the past days seeped into his voice.

“What have you done?!” Noel’s voice cracked, his fist clenching as shock bled into anger.

“You’re one of them. An Alter! A Beacon phantom! How could you…? This is desecration. Of yourself, of us, of the whole family!”

Reng narrowed his eyes. He’d expected this, but from Noel it cut deeper than any blow he had ever taken. He stepped toward him, just a small step, careful not to frighten him further.

“They didn’t ask me. I was supposed to die in the south when they took me. My Fate was to end there… but they changed it.”

Noel retreated a step, his eyes a storm of anger and despair.

“How am I supposed to trust you? How do I know you’re not theirs?”

Reng rubbed his forehead, trying and failing to find the right words. In the end he simply lifted his hands in helplessness.

“Look. Do you recognize these?”

He held out his arms.

“You taught me to hunt with them. To break a kernal, to work the fields. They’re still flesh and bone. And I’m still that boy you took into your home. I haven’t changed. I just want to come back. And more than anything, I want to protect you and Ela. That’s why I’m here.”

Noel stared at him for a long time, breath uneven, but the anger slowly fading. In his eyes, the struggle remained, revulsion for what Reng had become, and at the same time a fragile belief that he was telling the truth.

“Believe me,” Reng said softly.

“I’ve walked a long road. I’ve sacrificed so much just to return.”

The old man lowered his gaze. When he finally spoke, it came out like a confession he had been holding in for years:

“Back then… when Gramp and the others raided that damned caravan, I couldn’t believe there was a little boy in one of those cages. You. So terrified you couldn’t speak, couldn’t even tell us your own name. I had no idea what they meant to do with you, but I couldn’t leave you there. So I took you with me.”

“Seren just nodded, as if she’d been expecting you. Not a word of protest. You simply became one of us. I always thought it was chance… but now I think it was Fate. That everything you went through led here. So you would return in the end. And protect us.”

Reng shifted uncomfortably. They had never spoken much about how he’d come to them. He’d been six, and everything from before those events he had buried as deep as he possibly could. He didn’t believe in Fate himself, but if it was the only anchor Noel could hold on to, he was willing to accept it.

“I care about you. And about Ela,” he repeated quietly.

“If you give me another chance in Karhen Rouz, I’ll prove it to you.”

Silence settled over the cemetery. Only the wind stirred the branches above them. Eventually Noel nodded, though the gesture was hesitant, almost painful.

“I’ll return to the Oasis. You… stay beyond the borders for now. This needs time. We’ll meet here tomorrow, and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

Reng nodded. He knew a few more days meant nothing now. What weighed on him far more was the fragile, deliberate balance of this moment. It wasn’t the homecoming he had hoped for, but it was better than nothing. For now, he had to be content with having rekindled the thread of trust between them. A thread so thin it could snap again at any moment.

“But Reng… if this is a trick and you—”

Noel’s voice faded into the quiet.

“I’m not lying,” Reng said firmly.

“I swear it.”

The old man gave a slow nod and turned to leave. Reng remained standing alone by Seren’s grave, watching the hunched figure walk away. He hoped Noel wouldn’t let fear push him into something reckless. And somewhere deep inside, he feared the whole fragile thing might collapse before tomorrow came.

***

As soon as they parted ways, he ran back down the valley to the spot where he had hidden his vehicle. He’d kept it off the main road, tucked behind the bushes. He only meant to grab a few supplies and move to a safer place.

He opened the back of the truck. The last scraps of food, a blanket, and his armor. He picked up the chestplate and hesitated, wondering whether he should just bury it and draw a thick line between himself and everything tied to the Beacon.

Then the back of his neck froze.

A foreign gaze burned into his spine. He whipped around, but it was already too late.

Borin’s left hand slammed him against the metal side of the truck so hard it knocked the breath out of him. The grip around his throat was merciless. One small twist and it would snap his neck.

Reng dug his fingers into the metal arm, trying in vain to loosen its hold. In Borin’s eyes glinted amused certainty.

“I had a feeling it’d be enough to wait a little for that red-haired whore to show up,” Borin sneered and nodded toward the group standing behind him.

“But finding you instead? Now that’s… an interesting surprise for all of us.”

The faces of the other Modificants were stone-cold. Reng understood he couldn’t count on mercy from any of them.

The pressure on his throat shortened his breath. He swallowed with difficulty.

“What do you want from me? If you meant to scare me, congratulations... you’ve managed. What now?” he rasped.

“We’re looking for Ela,” Borin snapped, finally loosening his grip just enough for him to breathe.

“Someone’s after her. And if I caught you, she won’t be far.”

Reng dragged in a shaky breath, forcing himself to stay calm.

“Why? Why are you doing this?” he strained out.

“You know you don’t have to. Down south they called it off. It’s over. Our whole unit burned. Believe me, I saw it myself.”

For a moment Borin’s brow creased and he glanced at the others, but none of them reacted. So his eyes returned to Reng.

“Why are you saying that?” Borin snapped.

“Because it’s the truth. When was the last time you spoke to command? Has the Beacon contacted you lately? Do you even know what’s happening in the south?”

The uneasy silence of the group said everything.

“So they’re just not answering,” Reng murmured, more to himself.

“That means nothing,” Borin shot back.

“We have a mission… and I intend to finish it. And if I deliver a deserter on top of that, I’m hardly making things worse.”

“I’m not going back,” Reng exhaled.

“None of us have to.”

He looked over the group, but still felt as if he was slamming his head against a wall.

“Neron?” He turned to one of them directly.

“Wouldn’t it be better to finally start living a normal life?”

The addressed Modificant snorted.

“My life before was shit. I’m not going back to that.”

Borin laughed when he saw Reng’s face go rigid.

“You still don’t get it, do you? The Beacon didn’t win our loyalty through pressure. Quite the opposite. It gave us everything we never had before. If you can’t see that, that’s your problem,” he spat.

“And I told them. I warned them about you, and clearly I was right. You’re just Tonot’s losing bet.”

Reng held his gaze.

“And the Beacon? You think it’s loyal to you the same way you’re loyal to it?”

Borin brushed the question aside with an irritated flick of his hand.

“Just the whining of someone who never knew how to take what he’s given. Now tell me where Ela is. I’d prefer to settle this the easy way.”

“She’s not here,” Reng replied calmly.

“And I don’t know where she is. I flew south. You saw me in that horus yourself.”

Borin was silent for a moment, searching his mind for some way to force him to talk. In the end he only hissed:

“You’re lying.”

“And you have no way to prove it,” Reng said quietly.

He expected the hit. It was heavy and fast, knocking him to his knees. His breath snagged in his throat and tears stung his eyes. He cursed himself. If he hadn’t abandoned the armor, it might’ve taken part of the blow. Instead, he took it full force.

Borin’s boot lifted him and slammed him into the metal side of the truck. The impact boomed, and Reng slid back to the ground. He didn’t stay there long. The metal arm hauled him upright again, merciless.

“Makes me wonder how much you can really take,” Borin growled through his teeth.

“You… have no idea…” Reng hissed, blood dripping into the dirt.

“But this… isn’t about me. It’s about you. About what… you’re willing to do… just to convince yourselves… the Beacon still needs you. And the worst part… is you don’t get it… you already lost.”

Borin let go, and Reng crumpled again. Someone snorted with laughter.

“Keep an eye on him,” Borin told Neron, then stepped aside with the others.

Neron crouched beside him. His gaze was empty, fingers twitching anxiously.

“Looks like you screwed this up nicely,” he muttered. It wasn’t clear whether he meant it as a joke or the plain truth.

“You know you don’t have to do this,” Reng tried, hoping to break through at least a little.

“Out here, you’ve got a chance to start over. Going back, even if you drag my head with you, won’t help you. No one will need you anymore. They’ll dispose of you.”

For the first time, Neron looked at him. His eyes were glassy, the muscles in his face twitching. And in that moment, Reng understood there was no point in saying anything more. Not because the man refused to listen, but because his mind was drowned in mobzar.

“How many times did you hit it on the way here?” Reng asked quietly.

The Modificant shrugged.

“No one counted. Too many problems. And problems mean fights.”

A jolt of cold shot through Reng. In the Beacon, after every deployment they had mandatory breaks so the body and mind could clear. But this group had clearly been running for days nonstop.

The result was obvious.

Every single one of them was a live round with no safety.

He watched the others wordlessly settle whatever they’d been discussing. Borin returned with a smile — and clearly with a plan.

“Come on, up.” He yanked Reng back to his feet and shoved him forward.

“Where are we going?” Reng breathed, though he already suspected the answer.

“Where do you think? We’re going to have a chat with the ones who’ll tell us more about Ela. And trust me, they’ll talk eventually. You just have to press the right way.”

A cold wave of fear washed over him. Reng understood instantly what they intended to do. He knew their methods. Knew they wouldn’t stop.

Guilt slammed into him so silně, až se mu stáhl žaludek.

He had promised Noel he would protect them.

And instead he had brought murderers straight to their door.