Rhonda swung open the door to the house with a beaming smile. Everything was precisely as Kleo remembered—warm, cozy, welcoming. Rhonda’s eyes immediately landed on Rugr, and she nudged Jack with her elbow. “Who’s the brooding one?”

  Jack gave her a weary smile, deflecting her curiosity. “Not tonight, Rhonda, okay?”

  “Fine, fine,” she said with a smirk, clearly undeterred. “I’ll be around tomorrow. Introduce me then.” She shot Jack a slow wink before disappearing into the rainy night.

  Rugr sank into a chair, tense and uncertain. In the bedroom, Kleo dried herself as best she could, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror.

  “I look awful,” she muttered.

  Jack stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “You look beautiful. And welcome home, by the way. It hasn’t been that long, but I missed this place.”

  Kleo sighed, leaning back into his comforting embrace. “Me too. It’s good to be home.” She steadied herself for a moment before straightening. “Come on. We need to talk to Rugr.”

  Jack groaned, reluctant. “We?”

  “Yes, we,” Kleo said, guiding him firmly toward the door. “You’re my husband, and he’s my father. We all need to talk and clear the air.”

  Jack grumbled but allowed himself to be led out.

  When they entered the main room, Rugr glanced up, bracing himself. He looked like a man weathering an internal storm, matching the storm outside that left him soaked and weary.

  Jack gestured toward the smaller room. “You’ll be staying in the spare room. I’ve never slept in there, but it should be comfortable enough.”

  Rugr stared at the doorway without speaking.

  Kleo pulled out a chair and sat, motioning for Jack to sit beside her. Once he did, she turned to Rugr, voice calm but resolute. “I need to say some things, and I want you to listen first. Afterward, we can talk. Is that okay?”

  Rugr nodded, tension evident in every line of his body.

  Kleo took a deep breath. “I’m going to be blunt because it seems that’s what works best between us. You’re my father, and I’m your daughter. I don’t want to hear about Markus or Nima. They were never my parents.”

  A shadow of sorrow passed across Rugr’s face, but he remained silent.

  “Nima spent my whole life pretending I didn’t exist. There’s nothing in here,” she pressed her hand to her chest, “for her. Not love, not hate—nothing.”

  Rugr’s gaze dropped, her words striking him deeply.

  “And Markus…” Kleo hesitated, choosing her words with care. “He was kind, sometimes attentive, but when it mattered most, he wasn’t there.”

  Rugr nodded, unable to deny the truth.

  “Who was there for me, Rugr?” Kleo’s voice sharpened. “Who was there when I needed someone?”

  Rugr swallowed, hesitant to respond, afraid to interrupt.

  “You were,” Kleo continued. “Who showed me love? Who picked me up when I fell? Who taught me to be strong?”

  His voice came out rough, barely audible. “I did.”

  “Who else?”

  Rugr shook his head. “No one.”

  “Exactly.”

  Kleo leaned forward, eyes burning fiercely. “You raised me. You are my father. I’m your daughter. And I love you.”

  Her words landed hard, unlocking something within Rugr that had remained guarded for years. He stared at his hands, his voice shaking.

  “I was so afraid, Kleo. You were everything to me—but I knew Markus could take you away at any moment. I let that fear hold me back. I failed you—”

  “No,” Kleo interrupted, placing her hand over his. “As I grew older, I understood exactly why you held back. It didn’t make me love you less; it made me love you more. You did everything possible to protect me, even when it wasn’t easy.”

  Rugr’s shoulders sagged under the weight of years of regret. “I should’ve been braver. I should have told them—told you—what you meant to me.”

  “You can tell me now,” Kleo whispered, squeezing his hand. “Right now is what matters. We’re not in Astiria anymore. No one can take me from you. I’m free, Rugr. I’m never going back to that cage.”

  Her voice carried bitterness but also strength—a woman who had claimed control of her destiny.

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  Rugr lifted his gaze, eyes bright with emotion. “You’re right. I let Markus define too much of what I could be for you. But no more. Kleo, I’m proud of you. And I love you more than anything.”

  Kleo smiled, blinking through tears. “I love you too.”

  Still silent, Jack stood and placed a supportive hand on Rugr’s shoulder. “You have an amazing daughter. And she’s lucky to have you.”

  Rugr looked up, his expression softening. “Thank you, Jack—for being there for her. For loving her.”

  Jack nodded. “Always.”

  The tension between them eased, replaced by something more hopeful and honest. They were a family now—flawed, complicated, but genuine.

  Jack was relieved the conversation was finally over. Emotions had been shared, truths spoken, and now rest seemed within reach.

  But Rugr had other plans.

  “Do you want to hear my thoughts on the box?” Rugr’s voice broke the silence abruptly.

  Jack groaned, slumping back in his chair. “Haven’t you been paying attention for the last hour?”

  After days of travel and the emotional storm they’d weathered, all Jack wanted was to retreat to the soft bed waiting in the next room.

  Kleo tilted her head, studying Rugr’s serious expression. “Is now really the right time?”

  “Well,” Rugr said, voice neutral, “considering Markus tried to send that box—and us—to the bottom of the ocean, I’d say it is.”

  Kleo froze. The idea of Markus wanting her dead was difficult enough, but Rugr’s certainty made her pulse quicken.

  “All right,” she said, leaning forward. “I’m listening.”

  Jack sighed. “This better be good.”

  Rugr met Kleo’s eyes. “The remains in the box—they’re Demana.”

  “And?” Kleo pressed.

  “They belonged to someone you wouldn’t know, someone who never set foot in Astiria.”

  Kleo frowned. “That’s impossible. The last of our people fled directly from Demana to Astiria. There were no others.”

  “That’s exactly what I believed,” Rugr said, “until I ran into my brother in Balta.”

  “Your brother?” Kleo blinked in confusion. “Your brother died during the Last Stand—you’ve told me countless times. He’s in every history book.”

  “Yes,” Rugr admitted, his voice tight. “Imagine my surprise when I saw him standing at the bar of the Salty Mermaid.”

  “You’re serious?” Kleo said, her disbelief mingled with shock. “Of course you are… How can that be? He died over three hundred years ago.”

  “Exactly what went through my mind,” Rugr said, eyes distant. “I fled the city immediately. Me. I ran away like a frightened child. Can you imagine?”

  “I can if you believed you’d just seen a ghost.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought at first,” Rugr said. “But I stopped outside Balta, on a hillside overlooking the city. I knew if it were Dungr, he’d follow. And he did.”

  Jack leaned forward. “Can we skip to the chase? What the hell’s going on?”

  Rugr nodded. “There’s another group of Demana survivors in this world. They built a sanctuary hidden deep in the great desert to the west. It’s isolated, nearly impossible to reach. No one crosses the sands unless they have a death wish.”

  “How is this even possible?” Kleo asked, breathless. “How did they get here?”

  Rugr’s expression grew somber. “That’s the heart of the matter, Kleo. But you might not like what you hear.”

  She steeled herself. “I need to know. This contradicts everything I’ve been told my entire life.”

  Jack slumped deeper. “I’m fine not knowing. Can I go to bed now?”

  “No,” Kleo snapped, kicking his foot under the table. “This is important. Stay awake, Jack.”

  He grumbled, resigning himself. “Fine. But I’m making tea.”

  Rugr watched Jack fill the kettle before turning back to Kleo, his voice grave as he began the tale. He revealed Barto’s betrayal of their people and Markus’s complicity. By the time Rugr finished, Kleo’s eyes were wet with tears—anger and grief mingling openly.

  She turned toward the window, unable to speak. The revelations were crushing. Jack hovered nearby, questions forming, but he held them in. Instead, he prepared cups of tea.

  When Kleo finally turned back to Rugr, her voice trembled with suppressed emotion. “How could Markus do this? My whole life—it was all lies.”

  “I don’t excuse Markus’s actions,” Rugr said. “But it was too late when he realized Barto’s betrayal. Markus tried to save as many as he could—those willing to follow. Barto is the true villain here.”

  Kleo forced herself to breathe. “At least there are more of us alive. And your brother—he’s alive, Rugr. That must mean something.”

  Rugr allowed himself a faint smile. “Yes, that part is good. But there’s a catch—and it relates to the box.”

  Kleo’s eyes narrowed. “Why does there have to be a catch?”

  Rugr’s expression tightened. “Dungr’s life depends on me returning the box. I swore on his life that I’d do it. That’s why it matters so much. The remains must return to their rightful resting place in the desert sanctuary.”

  Kleo groaned, dropping her head into her hands. Rugr and Jack braced themselves for another fiery reaction, but instead, Kleo surprised them both.

  “Oh, Father… I’m sorry for how I acted earlier,” she said. “I had no idea what kind of burden you were carrying.”

  Kleo straightened, her voice steady again. “But I still don’t understand why Markus went through all that trouble—sending us after the box only to have it destroyed and us along with it.”

  “That’s the puzzle,” Rugr admitted. “I don’t have the full answer. I spoke with Maya, and she shared some theories. But they’re incomplete—I want to consider them carefully before we jump to conclusions.”

  Jack rejoined the table, tea steaming in hand. “I didn’t sit through all this for half a story. What exactly did Maya say?”

  Ignoring Jack, Rugr focused on Kleo. “Do you remember saying the box wasn’t buried but hidden?”

  “Yes,” she said, nodding. “It was hidden in a recess beneath the temple floor—not buried.”

  “And the construction?”

  “It was strange,” Kleo said, recalling the details. “There was no visible seam or way to open it. It had a subtle protection spell—weak, but well-hidden.”

  Rugr leaned in. “Maya suspects the body inside isn’t dead.”

  Kleo’s eyes widened, and Jack dropped his tea. “What does that mean?”

  “She thinks the box protects the body of a powerful Kull magic practitioner, keeping it suspended—alive but unmoving—while its soul exists in another realm.”

  “I’m sorry—what?”

  “The body stays preserved,” Rugr clarified. “But the soul travels elsewhere. Over time, the physical body deteriorates, and eventually, it becomes impossible for the soul to return. Markus likely wanted the box sunk, hoping that would sever the link forever.”

  Kleo’s brow knitted. “But why would anyone separate their soul from their body?”

  Rugr shrugged. “To transcend physical limits, perhaps. To travel unseen, hide from enemies, search across vast distances, or even time itself. But this is Maya’s area of expertise—not mine.”

  Kleo’s thoughts raced, her voice quiet with realization. “Searching across distances. Across realms—”

  Jack’s voice cut through her thoughts, steady and serious. “The body’s here, but the soul is somewhere else, reaching out, calling…”

  “No,” Kleo whispered, eyes widening as she shook her head. “It can’t be.”

  But Jack was confident. “Yes.”

  “No,” Kleo insisted, shaking her head.

  He met her gaze steadily, and they spoke in unison:

  “The goddess.”