KESM: Terra Quatuor Chronicles

"Here's to that." Hayz said, raising his mug high. "A toast, then. To survival — and more so, to freedom." Sabbath added with a smile.

The mugs clinked together, and laughter spilled into the cool evening air, dancing alongside the crackling campfire. Above them, the stars glittered as silent witnesses, their faint light catching the fleeting shadows of the group's lively faces.

As the laughter tinged heartily through the group, the sigils on their hands began receding. The burden imposed on them this entire time, for as long as they could remember now, suddenly faded away. They had lived with that unyielding constraint — like a noose tightened around one's neck — for so long, that finally being released from it felt almost foreign. But so it was, they were free. Bound no more.

They exuded an almost palpable sigh of relief.

"That's it." His words hushed, as if speaking them too loudly might break the fragile reality, "we're truly free." Jon barely believed his own eyes.

Having scarfed down as much stew, meat and wine as their bellies could take without bursting. The members of the group freshened up, cleaned their gear…. or what little remained intact, and simply let the night embrace them.

Even babies don't sleep this well.

For Sabbath, it was the last peaceful night he would have.

***

Another sleepless night.

Sabbath groaned, pulling his pillows off his ears "Can you guys at least keep it down?!" he shouted hoarsely. "Jon, I know you have something to isolate all that noise to your rooms, or keep any from getting to mine."

"Sorry Sabby, I'll get to it tonight." Jon said laughing.

"You've been saying that for two weeks!" Sabbath's glare could have cut stone.

"Maybe get yourself a lady friend, Sabby." Angie quipped, stepping out of her room with Hayz. Both looked as if they hadn't slept a wink, but neither seemed to care.

The past few weeks had blurred in a haze. They waited in this small Transit town for the Nexus's next arrival, to finalize their release as Bound men.

With no missions to prepare for, they had all been living their best lives, barely thinking of anything in particular. Embracing the rare luxury of idleness.

"Emaila, don't forget to bring Shards this time, you know the tavern doesn't take Siids." Hayz said.

"Are you saying I'm forgetful?" Emaila shot back, her voice tinged with mock offense. Getting no reply, just chuckles and laughter, they got set.

Sabbath however left first, making his way down to the tavern's breakfast hall, wondering just when next he'd be able to rest.

The sun spilled into the moderately sized tavern kitchen, slanting through the windows and painting everything in a muted gold. Mira adjusted her apron, frowning as she tried to smooth out a stubborn crease in the fabric. Her friend and fellow server, Lila, was already wiping down the wooden bar with the efficiency of someone who had been up for hours.

"They'll be down soon." Mira said absentmindedly, glancing toward the staircase that led to the guest rooms, where Sabbath would be appearing from.

"How do you know? You've got fox ears now?" Lila teased, wringing out her cloth. "Or maybe you're just waiting for a certain someone?"

Mira flushed, shooting her friend a glare, but didn't dignify the remark with a response. She didn't need to. Lila knew all too well how Mira's eyes drifted to the quiet one every time the group came down. Sabbath. Even his name sounded heavy, like the kind of word meant to be spoken carefully.

Upstairs, muffled voices filtered down — mostly lighthearted bickering, the kind you'd hear between old friends. Mira couldn't make out everything, but she caught snippets: Jon laughing at something, Hayz's gruff response, and Angie's sharp wit cutting through it all like a blade.

Weeks ago, when they'd first arrived, they'd seemed…. lighter. Mira still remembered the way they'd strolled into the tavern, looking like they owned the world. There'd been a spark in their eyes, a kind of freedom that spoke louder than any introductions, something they still carried effortlessly. At the time, she hadn't known who they were, just that they weren't ordinary travelers — Pilgrims as they were called. Their gear — scarred and worn but impeccably maintained — told a story, as had the way they moved: like seasoned combatants who didn't need to prove a thing.

Then the rumors started.

"They're Bound men, you know." one of the regulars had whispered to her father late one evening. Mira had pretended not to listen, her hands busy with a tray of empty tankards. "Their last mission was against a Tier-2 Fiend. A real beast. Took the thing down, they say."

Her father had scoffed, as he always did when adventurer tales got too grandiose. They were merely Tier-3's afterall. But Mira had seen the way his eyes flicked to the corner table where the group sat, their laughter cutting through the din of the tavern.

Whether the rumors were true or not, Mira couldn't shake the feeling that these weren't people to dismiss lightly. They carried an air of quiet authority, the kind that made the tall tales seem almost plausible.

"Here they come." Lila said, snapping Mira out of her thoughts.

The first to descend was Jon, his robe slightly askew, Emaila's glasses slipping down his nose. He looked every bit the disheveled intellectual, muttering something to Hayz, who followed close behind. Hayz's heavy boots thudded against the wooden stairs, his massive frame dwarfing the narrow staircase.

Emaila was next, right behind them, her chestnut hair free flowing, unlike its usual twin braids. In contrast to Angie who sported the twin braids, as she followed suit. Her twin blades strapped to her back even during breakfast. Her sharp eyes scanned the room instinctively, as if expecting danger even in the peaceful tavern. She caught Mira's gaze and smirked, a knowing glint in her eyes. Mira quickly busied herself arranging plates on a tray.

However, something was odd though, he hadn't come yet. She heard the door open, she heard his footsteps. Surely he should've made it down first? What had distracted him?

And then, finally, Sabbath appeared.

Mira's breath hitched.

He was dressed simply, in brown slacks folded at the ankles and a loose-fitting white linen shirt. The laces at his collar hung undone, exposing the hollow of his throat. Although Sabbath was never one to dress clad in armour. It was a far cry from the figure she'd seen when they first arrived, his battle gear imposing and formidable. Now, he looked…. human.

But that didn't make him any less striking.

The group settled at their usual table — a corner spot with a good view of the room. Angie leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed, chattering on about something with Emaila, while Jon immediately began fiddling with a strange contraption he'd pulled from his pocket. Hayz signaled Mira with a lazy wave.

"What do you think they'll order this time?" Lila asked, sidling up beside her.

"The usual." Mira replied with a small smile. "Which is to say, whatever the cook feels like making, as long as they haven't had it before."

Lila laughed. "That's one way to live."

As Mira approached their table with the first round of plates, she felt her palms grow clammy. She hated how obvious she was, how her eyes kept drifting to Sabbath even as she tried to focus on not spilling anything.

"Morning." she said, setting down a steaming plate in front of Jon.

"Morning, Mira." Jon replied without looking up, too engrossed in his tinkering. Up close it looked like a locket, with a picture in it.

Hayz nodded in thanks, already reaching for his fork. Emaila, however, raised an eyebrow as Mira placed a plate in front of Sabbath with deliberate care. Noticing this:

"You're staring again." Angie said, just as Emaila did, in unison. Their tones light but teasing.

Mira nearly dropped the tray. Her face burned as she stammered out a denial, but their smirk only widened. As women, they knew.

Sabbath, for his part, seemed utterly oblivious. He muttered a quiet thanks and began eating, his focus entirely on his plate and crew…. as always.

"You're cruel." Mira hissed at Angie under her breath, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

Angie and Emaila only laughed, the sound sharp and unrepentant.

Back at the bar, her father watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. He grumbled something under his breath about adventurers and bad influences, but Mira ignored him.

"Your dad's going to lock you in the cellar if you're not careful." Lila whispered, barely containing her amusement.

"Let him try." Mira shot back, though her cheeks were still pink.

From her spot by the bar, she stole another glance at Sabbath. The lines of his face were softer now than they'd been weeks ago, his smile still so precious. As if every moment of peace was a rare gift.

Mira sighed, returning to her work.

Whatever their pasts held, one thing was certain: these weren't ordinary travelers. Their energy ever so endearing, yet carrying an indescribable lethality. And as much as her father might grumble, she couldn't help but feel a quiet thrill every time they walked through the door.