The ride to the military lodgings was uncomfortably quiet. Ryu drove the van that was provided by the Shogunate. Shin took shotgun, Ruka and Anna sat on the second row with Takeru and Shou bringing up the rear.
"So..." Takeru began, slowly and hesitantly. "Does anybody want to talk about what just happened now?"
He was answered with silence.
He shrugged his shoulders, "Fine, then." He looked outside through the heavily tinted bulletproof glass windows. His analytical eyes studied every building – his thoughts wandering from whether these buildings could be used as sniper posts, or they're just better off burned to the ground.
It's already dark outside with no moon, the vehicle's tinting made it darker, Shin's thoughts made it the darkest place in Osaka. They pulled over a modest building painted in green with the Shimazu crest emblazoned at its highest floor. The squad disembarked and Ryu gave the keys to a private who drove the van away.
"Shin," Ryu tossed Shin the keycard to his room, and Shin caught it absently, "6th floor. Room 677."
He nodded before walking ahead, thoughts filled his mind, dishonorable, disgraceful, borderline treacherous thoughts that would make Sakura kill him if he voiced them out.
He entered the lodge dedicated for the Shimazu forces within Osaka. He'd been here before, he knows the layout — a reception area, a small lobby, all decked in a chaotic but orderly mess of green and white, and a stairway tucked at the left corner. The only addition he noticed was a LED Wall beside the reception desk that is currently playing a tourism ad for Kyushu — strange to play that in what is essentially a luxury barracks for the forces of a hatamoto.
Shin let his feet lead him. He took the stairs, he had enough elevator rides for the day. He figured his squad would not follow him, opting instead for the quick shortcut to their respective rooms. He climbed each step, forcing his senses toward a single point — the step ahead of him.
Yet he can't shake the fact that a second set of footsteps echo cautiously behind him. They were soft enough to be quiet, but purposeful enough that he knew she wanted to be heard — as if saying that he's not alone.
He suppressed another smile, another sense triggered in him — his sense of smell — and it caught her faint wisteria perfume — Ruka.
-----------------------------------------------------
A/N: You may read the rest of the chapter here on Fanprose.
Chaewon and Minjeong can't meet each other's gazes. They would look at each other, yes, but their eyes seemed to be the same sides of a magnet. Now, the sisters are reduced to staring at each other's feet.
Minjeong sat between Jimin and Yizhuo at what seemed like a dressing room. Vanity mirrors lined the sides, fully decked with make up kits and things a guy isn't supposed to understand unless he intentionally dips his toes into it. Further back, racks upon racks of stage outfits and absurd costumes were stored.
Opposite them were Sakura and Haerin — the former seemed to have raided the clothes racks as she is now dressed like a rockstar herself with a tube top, and denim jacket and shorts.
Chaewon immediately let go of my hand though, saying she might not be able to control her emotions, which may cause her to burn my hand. I accepted her excuse — although I felt that there was more to it than just that. Now, her hands were behind her back, her thumb fidgeting with the palm of the other while Minjeong was chewing her lips. Her eyes were red, probably another reason why they can't meet each other's eyes.
Now, we stood before the expectant gazes of our friends, and all I could think about was how to mend Chaewon and Minjeong’s relationship. Funny how that matter seemed to hang heavier on me than the revelation that I had both demonic and angelic blood in my veins.
"So," Jimin breathed softly, she seemed to have aged a few weeks in a span of a few hours. Well, I think most of us were, me most of all — I can't even recognize the person I saw when I looked at the dozens of mirrors lining this room. "Where do we start?"
I breathed another sigh just to release a little bit of weight from my chest. I moved to a nearby vanity and sat atop the desk. Chaewon mirrored my actions on the opposite side of the room, she however, took a chair, angling it slightly so it faces Minjeong, and sat — both sisters still staring at each other's shoes.
"Great question," I craned my head, the flourescent lights were dim, reminding me of a cloudy day. Then I scoffed, "I don't know."
I lowered my head and my gaze landed on Sakura. She tilted her head, no doubt reading what I was thinking about with my expression.
"Can you...?" I began, "can you explain what happened back there, Sakura?"
Sakura's gaze sharpened, "It is not my story to tell, Seren."
"Yet, I'm still asking you to," I replied. "I don't want to think nor feel right now — and reliving — recounting — everything that was said back there, I don't think I can handle it."
"Are you sure?" Sakura followed up.
I nodded. "Besides, you're an intel operative, you'll probably know what to say and what not to considering the..." I looked around the room, only Jimin was looking directly at me, yet I was thankful that she hadn't objected to what I just said, "... current circumstances."
Sakura leaned back against the vanity behind her. She raised her head as she considered my request, then she sighed and met my gaze, "Fine. Feel free to stop me or whatever anytime you feel like it, though."
I nodded.
Then her gaze turned to Chaewon who was still staring at the space between her sister's feet. Yizhuo gently held both of the younger girl's shoulders, and Minjeong tensed for half a breath before relaxing.
"You too," Sakura added.
Chaewon absently nodded.
"Okay," Sakura said softly, a huge contrast to the weight of what she was about to say. Then her eyes swept the room, ending at Jimin who was now staring at her intently.
"Seren is a hybrid... of heaven and of hell..." and Sakura started recounting almost everything that was discussed with the sirens. She recalled my heritage, the two bloodlines, the demonic being Lilith's, the angelic still unknown. She discussed what Jieun said about Eclipse Garden, how it would be a revolutionary movement that may one day shape what Verrath would become.
Sakura however, did not disclose what Jieun advised Chaewon — to talk to Minjeong and do whatever it takes so that what happened to her won't happen to her little sister. That part was too personal, and Chaewon and I still don't understand what the seer meant by it.
Once Sakura finished, all eyes were on me, even Haerin's, who apparently got all that despite her usual air headedness.
"Seren, I —" Jimin stuttered. Minjeong covered her mouth with her hands, and Yizhuo was staring at me, eyes wide, as if she's rethinking our whole relationship.
"Can you tell the huntresses too?" I asked Sakura as Jimin was trying to find words to say to me.
Sakura nodded.
"Are you going to report this to the Triarchy?" Haerin asked softly.
"Not everything," Sakura replied.
"Thank you," I gave a curt bow, to which Sakura responded with a nod. I trust Sakura, oddly. I know she'll only say what the Triarchy needs to know without putting me or my friends in danger. Still — the Triarchy is unpredictable, and I can only hope that Sakura can reel them in.
I turned to the human ladies in the room, "I know you have... questions... I don't know if I can answer them... but —" my words died on my throat as Jimin rose, rushed towards me, and flung her arms around my neck, pulling me in a tight embrace.
I froze. My hands trembling in the air where I failed to catch her. My gaze drifted to Chaewon who was staring — there was no heat in her eyes, only relief, like she was glad that someone hugged me, even if it was Jimin. A faint smile crosses her lips as my hands slowly relax around Jimin's side, then her gaze drifts back to her sister.
Minjeong was staring at Jimin and I, allowing Chaewon to look at her sister uninhibited. I can see her mind whirring, no doubt thinking about things she would say later — which would of course, be immediately forgotten once they go face to face.
"Seren —" Jimin whispered in my ear, pulling me out of my thoughts. I nuzzled my head on her neck, smelling the faded fragrance of her perfume.
"I'm okay," I said almost instinctively.
"You're not," Jimin retorted as she pulled away. Her tired eyes searched my face.
"Yeah. I'm not," I scoffed.
"Do you... want to talk about it?"
"Not here... not now..." I replied. "I don't want to worry about my problems for the time being."
"So you're going to worry about other people's problems?" Jimin whispered, noting that my eyes are still fixed on Chaewon.
My eyes met hers, "Minjeong is not 'other people', Jimin," I replied tenderly.
"I know," Jimin dipped her head. "And I know you," she raised it back to hold mine, "you're going to fix their problem, then find another one so you won't get to fix yours," she said sternly that it was almost adorable.
I managed a weak laugh, "That's why you're here right? To make sure that I face my own problems."
"Don't make it a habit," Jimin hissed, yet there was no venom in it, only affection and assurance.
Then my gaze drifts towards Yizhuo. Her gaze still trembled as she stared at Jimin and I.
"It's fine if you're afraid of me now, Yizhuo. I'd be too if I was in your shoes."
"No.. it's not —" Yizhuo stuttered as she tried to deny her fear. "Well, I admit..." the girl dipped her head, "I was scared when Ms Miyawaki said what you are... but..." she looks at Minjeong, "Minjeong doesn't seem to be afraid of you, neither is Jimin so... I don't see a reason why I should be as well." She pursed her lips when she returned my gaze. I nodded and gave her a quick thank you.
I glanced at Minjeong, she looked the most exhausted amongst all of us. And she also looked like she aged the most out of all of us. She stared at the floor with bloodshot, sagging eyes, and I figured it wasn't the right moment to talk to her.
I looked back at Jimin who still locked me with a look of concern. "Tell Yuna and Sullyoon for me, will you?" I asked.
She nodded, and I kissed her forehead as my way of thanking her.
"So," I let Jimin go and jumped off the vanity. "What now?" I asked Sakura as I made my way towards her, Jimin following close behind.
"Well, I suppose you have... personal matters to attend to..." she replied, looking at the sisters.
"Haerin and I will drive Jimin and Yizhuo to their dorms. The van's outside..." Sakura continued.
I pursed my lips and nodded.
"And you're going to keep the sisters company?" Jimin asked.
"They need it, Jimin."
"And Chaewon asked you to."
It was not a question.
"Jimin —"
"I understand," Jimin interjected. "It's for Minjeong, right?"
I nodded.
"Would it be safe, though?" Jimin followed, "it's already dark. Maybe you could call Eunchae to teleport you —"
"It should be fine, Jimin," this time it was Sakura who spoke up. "With the recent... attack at the college, Chaewon is now known as a credible threat to Verrath's Night Folk. Seren is also a known Glade Lord Slayer — not to mention his connections with us and the Verrathi Coven. His abilities would also allow him to sense for any surprise attacks or ambushes. If anyone is stupid enough to attack them, they both won't go down without a fight, and help wouldn't be far as well."
Jimin nodded, but still clearly unsatisfied. "Be careful, will you?"
I gave her a reassuring smile, well, as much as my exhausted body can give. "We will."
"Get the girls. We'll get the van ready," Sakura stood back up and made her way outside the amphitheatre, followed closely by Haerin who gave us an awkward bow before leaving.
Jimin and I stared at each other. "Get Yizhuo," I said softly. "We'll leave once you've left."
Jimin nodded. She made her way towards Yizhuo. The girl seemed reluctant to leave Minjeong's side. Only when Minjeong assured her did she agree and took Jimin's hand. As they were leaving, Jimin shot me a look and a subtle nod. I nodded back, a silent gratitude as they left the amphitheatre — then silence, heavy, almost hot, yet Chaewon was not heating up.
We sat there for what seemed like hours. The lights seemed to dim. I don't trust myself to talk, it is they who should be talking.
Then Chaewon stood. Slowly, she shuffled towards Minjeong whose gaze was locked against the floor. Chaewon extended her hand, and Minjeong slowly raised her head.
"I thought we were going to talk?" Minjeong asked weakly.
"Not here," Chaewon replied in the softest tone I've ever heard from her. "Home."
Minjeong managed a weak smile. She took her sister's hand and stood. My heart lightened at the sight, perhaps this won't be as hopeless as I thought.
Chaewon then looked at me, "Walk with us?"
I nodded. "I'll be right behind the two of you."
Chaewon tenderly led Minjeong out of the amphitheatre. I followed close behind, leaving the reflections that I was sure was looking at me with judging eyes.
----------------------------------------
A/N: You may read the rest of the chapter here on Fanprose.
"How's your wound? " I asked Yeji before giving her a glass of water.
"Healing," she groaned on my couch. She winced sharply as she pressed her hand on where she was stabbed by Indarin's rapier. "I can feel it closing. Should be fine after a good night's sleep." She replied before taking a quick drink from the glass.
"And you, Saerom?" I turned to the Death Dealer. She stood by my window as she watched outside, concern still etched on her face. Soyeon was taken back to the coven after her neck wound has closed. Chaeyoung accompanied her, now all she needs is to recover the blood she lost during the fight.
Ryujin likewise, was in the same situation, with the hunters taking her back to the catacombs to recover. Chaeryoung also joined them.
Now, Yeji and Saerom are resting in my apartment. Joohyun and Seulgi remained at the rooftop with a couple other Death Dealers and Hunters as they examined Indarin's body.
"I'm fine. Compared to the others, Yeji's injuries and mine are trivial."
"For what it's worth, that was one hell of a fight," Yeji muttered, wrapping both hands around the glass.
"You showed great heart out there," Saerom told Yeji.
"So did you, even if yours isn't beating anymore," the huntress quipped weakly to which Saerom responded with a quick chuckle.
"And you, Seren? How are you holding up?" Yeji asked.
I crashed down on the opposite couch, sinking too hard that I thought for a second I was going to break the damn thing. Then I took a deep breath.
"Tired. So. Fucking. Tired."
I turned aero sense off — I turned everything off. I took a look at my arms, the cuts Indarin made were also slowly healing. Just like Yeji, I hoped this would all be healed after a good sleep.
"That trick with the faerie dust was something else. I've never seen even other fae fight like that," Yeji commented.
"Keep honing that," Saerom added. "That and your fighting skills, coupled with your aero sense — I can see you getting frighteningly dangerous in an even more frightening short amount of time."
"Thanks," I said wearily. "It means a lot, especially coming from both of you."
They each gave a tired sigh as acknowledgment before silence befalls us — comfortable with a breath of relief. Saerom shifts by the window, she now faced us as she leaned against it. Yeji emptied her glass then placed it on the glass desk. The huntress leaned her head back against the couch's backrest.
Then she released a small huff. Then an airy chuckle. Saerom responded in kind, chuckling as she leaned her head back against the window pane. In just half a minute — the three of us were laughing. The sound felt like it was lifting something off our chests, like every breath takes a collective weight off. Yeji clutched her side, her wound no doubt bothering her, but she kept wheezing anyway.
-----------------------------------------------
A/N: You may read the rest of the chapter here on Fanprose.
I just binged TBotE and it's great! Really interesting concept and setup, even if i struggled a bit to get the names sorted 😅 but im looking forward to more!
Also a Mori Koyuki mention???? Bless your soul for that! Hope she will be part of the future story (no pressure ofc)
Thank you and I'm glad you enjoyed it!
We're on the same boat on the names though, didn't realize I named two different characters with the same name. I only realized it when I reread Chapter 1 after Chapter 2 was posted.
And Yuki's inclusion was unintended, or maybe premature would be the right term. She's included in idols I wanted to include here, forgot her family name's Mori though. Well, I'm still too early in the story that there are still ways to write around this. Yuki is sure to be included in later chapters though.
Anyway, thanks again for reading! Arigatodegozaru!
Chapter 8: The Memory Who Chose to Stay
1.1k words
The temple corridors were quiet.
Not peaceful. Just... muted. Like the walls were listening.
I wandered them alone, following nothing but instinct. I left the Compass in my room, much to his disapproval. If I'm going to do this, I'm doing it alone.
Chaewon hadn’t given directions. But my feet moved anyway, step after hesitant step through white marble halls veined with soft gold and crimson quartz. Somewhere deep in me, I already knew where I was going.
Not to Yunjin.
Not to Kazuha.
To her.
Sakura.
The one who shattered the hardest. Well, at least, in my opinion.
I passed through a long gallery where the stained glass no longer showed heroes or angels, but time itself—swirling stars, ticking gears, collapsing loops, and the stone walls now seemingly made of sand. My reflection moved strangely across the glass. It was out of sync by a heartbeat. Or maybe I was.
Then I reached the door.
It wasn’t locked. But something in me hesitated before I touched the handle. The air was… off. Like two different versions of the same room were trying to occupy the same space.
I opened it.
And stepped inside the mind of a breaking god.
When Kazuha and I first met her, she was locked in stasis alongside everything inside the temple she was in. It was still, like time stopped, which it literally did. The room I entered to... was a storm.
Dozens of paper-thin time threads danced to an unforgiving beat through the air—glimmering golden sands tangled in a harsh, chaotic spiral. Some held visions. I saw Sakura’s face smiling, crying, screaming. One of them had wings of glass. Another wielded the Vow like a scythe. Another was bleeding, whispering my name over and over like a prayer. None of them were the same. None of them looked good. This is a place where time converged and it converges on the one kneeling at the center of it all.
Sakura.
Around her, it was calm—no chaos, no swirling timelines. And yet, by instinct, I knew it was the most dangerous place in the entire room.
Kneeling with her back to me. Shoulders shaking. Her hair fell messily over her face, drenched in sweat. The Temporal Vow floated in front of her, flickering in and out of sync with the room—sometimes an orb, sometimes a sundial, sometimes a broken music box, sometimes an hourglass. It pulsed like a dying star and all, were cracked.
She didn’t turn when I entered.
“…I know which version of you you are,” she said hoarsely, prompting me to pause in my tracks.
Her voice was frayed at the edges. It carried the exhaustion of centuries and the trembling fragility of a girl too tired to cry.
I took a step forward. “Sakura…”
“I remember this one. This version.” She raised her head, not quite meeting my eyes. “You’re the one who kissed me beneath the trees… or were you?”
I tilted my head. To my recollection, it was her who initiated the kiss.
“Or was it me?” Her eyes flickered gold. Then green. Then back again.
“And you’re also the one who let me burn.”
My stomach twisted. “That wasn’t me.”
Her hand trembled as it touched the ground. “No... not you you. But one of you. And not yet. And you all feel the same right now.”
===========================
A/N: Read the full chapter here at Fanprose. Thanks!!!
The first thing I heard was the wind.
Not a storm. Not fire. Just wind—gentle, warm, and clean.
The second thing was the Compass.
“You’re awake,” he said in my thoughts, uncharacteristically gentle. I had no energy to answer as I made sense of my surroundings.
I opened my eyes slowly, blinking past the haze. A white ceiling curved above me, carved with thin golden filigree like veins through polished stone. Not a hospital. Not a temple either. Something between both — a keep, maybe.
My body ached like I’d been buried beneath time itself. Even breathing felt heavier than it should.
“You’ve been asleep for three days,” the Compass said. “That’s why everything feels…off."
Three days... I thought... then remembered, Yunjin, bound in flames, Kazuha, shattered wing, Sakura, shattered heart, Ignariel, snarling in defiance to Chaewon. And Chaewon, the Hollow Voice — once the Archangel of Will, the one who was said to have given free will to humanity only to be cast out in Heaven as a traitor — at least that was what legends say, the Compass says it isn't, and knowing Kazuha and Sakura, there's probably more underneath than the legend people see.
I sat up—or tried to. The room spun, then settled. A glass of water was waiting on the side table. Someone had tucked the sheets around me. My gear was gone. Clean robes wrapped around my chest and legs. It took me a second to realize I wasn’t in danger anymore.
But that only made me more tense.
“Where are we?” I asked aloud.
“Still in Dazkora.”
The name returned to me like ash on my tongue. Dazkora—the city of braziers and stone spires, the city nestled between two mountains, where Ignariel's mansion had stood like a monument to divine hubris. Where it had enslaved the populace under its hymn, stripping them of emotions. Where the Counter imprisoned Yunjin and nearly burned us all to cinders.
But this place… it was different. There were no screams. No fire. No hymn.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Chaewon happened,” the Compass’s voice grew quieter in reverence — and something else.
"You're afraid." I observed. "Of Chaewon."
The Compass huffed. "Of course I'm afraid. All six of us, wielders and relics, struggled against Ignariel, eight if you would count Yunjin and her ring. And she just bursts in from above and casually commands the pompous bastard to scram. Of course I'm afraid of her."
Good point, I thought. "She seemed... smaller than I imagined — around Sakura's height? Less archangel, more... scalpel." I chuckled.
"Don't let her hear that," he replied, also chuckling. “She remade the city in your sleep. Burned away its corrupted flame and replaced it with something else. Something structured. Serene, even. Orderly.”
I frowned, “She rewrote it?”
“Yes. Like a sculptor correcting a flawed statue. No violence. No war. Just… command. The people here call her Oracle now. They follow her because they want to." He paused. "Because she made them want to.” He finished.
"How is that different from Ignariel?"
"It's order, Seren — a lawful one — a necessary one. Not one borne out of the removal of free will and emotion. The city is once again alive — and it feels."
That's better, I thought. Though I'm still wary of Chaewon's power. Something like that, it's unnatural, maybe even overpowered.
I pushed the sheets off and stood. My balance wobbled, but held. Three days in bed was not enough to dull the memories.
Ignariel’s flames. Kazuha’s wing — shattered. Sakura — crumbling like sand as my memorues and pain tore through her. Yunjin’s ashen form as she was bound. And the truth about my village, why it was targeted, and who targeted it. I finally have a name, Seraphiniel.
And finally, Chaewon—descending through fire like judgment incarnate.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
Then the door opened.
She stepped in like she belonged there. No armor. No diadem. No cold flame curling around her shoulders. Just soft white robes and black hair loosely braided down her back. She looked less like an archangel and more like a young lady who preferred playing with swords rather than dolls.
-------------------------------------------------
A/N: Still can't post the whole thing. Y'all may read the full chapter here at Fanprose. Thanks!!!
"They're both acting weird, aren't they, Shou?" Takeru commented to Corporal Kagami Shouichi as he lounged on the couch of the inn's lobby.
"I guess, if you say so, sarge," the rookie replied.
"Think about it, Ruka-chan was already there when we barged into Shin's room," he let a dart pin fly from his fingers, adding to the porcupine of pins on the nearby dart board's bullseye.
The lobby was modest, one long green couch was positioned against the wall where Takeru decided to loaf. He must have shot a dozen dart pins against the board across the room — all hitting the bullseye. Two more smaller blue and red couches were on either side, Shou sat on the blue one to the longer couch's right.
Shou shrugged, "Maybe she got there first, hacked the door —"
"And left it closed knowing there's a shinobi attack? Ruka-chan's much too smart for that," Takeru retorted.
"Maybe the shinobi closed them?"
"Maybe you should mind your own business, Sgt Maeda?" Ruka cheekily chimed in as she entered the lobby, a laptop clutched in her arms. Shou stood and gave her a salute, Takeru also gave one but remained lounging on the couch. Ruka returned the gesture and Shou sat back down.
"Just... curious, Ruka-chan," Takeru replied while releasing another dart. Ruka sat on the corner where a small high table was set.
"You can transfer that curiosity as to why the shinobi of Iga attacked the captain last night," Ruka replied.
"And why were they personally led by the Crimson Blade," Shou added.
"That too," Ruka said, pointing at Shou with a lollipop.
Ruka and Shin didn't divulge what Enami Asa told both of them, they just said that the famed kunoichi escaped after noticing she was outmatched by Shin and outnumbered with Ruka's presence.
Ruka leaned her elbows on the table as she typed on her laptop, trying to search for anything related to the shinobi of Iga, Hattori Hanzo, and Enami Asa — well, as much as the internet bothered to publish.
"You saw the Crimson Blade, right?" Takeru asked.
"Uh-huh," Ruka replied absently while scrolling amongst useless articles. She considered hacking the military's database but decided it's too dangerous, not just for her, but also her comrades in the unit.
Another pin hits the bullseye and Takeru sprang up. "Was she pretty?" He asked with a grin cheekier than Ruka's.
Ruka's gaze drifted to the sniper in disbelief. "Seriously? That's what bothers you?"
"What? I'm curious. So is Shou," Takeru nudged Shou with his foot.
"Uh.. yes, Lieutenant," Shou stuttered. "It's just, the Crimson Blade was known not to miss a target — and she failed for the first time. I'm just... nervous, maybe, if she'll strike again."
"That's not what I was asking, Shouichi," Takeru rolled his eyes before laying back down on the couch.
"It's possible," Ruka nodded, placing the lollipop in her mouth, "but unlikely."
"How so?" Shou followed up.
"Because shinobi excel most whenever they have the advantage on two things, Shou," Takeru answered, scoring another bullseye, three pins fell since the mark is already overcrowded with pins. "Do you know what they are?"
"Uhmm... stealth?" Shou replied.
"Close. Surprise is a better term," Takeru nodded.
"What's the difference?"
"Surprise can integrate both stealth, speed, and ferocity of entry, Shou. Having all of those ensures panic even if they're discovered, allowing for a smaller force to usually overwhelm a bigger one before they can organize," Ruka answered.
Shou nodded, then turned to Takeru, "and the second?"
"What do you need when you don't have the element of surprise?" Takeru responded.
"Uhmmmm... I overwhelm the enemy, with numbers."
"Bullseye," Takeru smirked, firing another one at the dart board.
"And since they've been discovered and security is heightened... it is indeed unlikely they'll strike," Shou nodded.
"Fast learner. Proud of you, Shou," Takeru grinned, shooting the last of his darts, it would have hit the bullseye, but it's filled with too many pins that it just fell to the floor.
Ruka then heaved a big sigh. She leaned back in frustration at the useless articles in the internet.
"You can drop that, Ruka-chan," Takeru said, grabbing a nearby stress ball and started playing catch with the ceiling. "The internet would be as helpful as the investigators that are scouring the room as we speak."
Ruka groaned and removed the lollipop from her mouth, "I just hate not doing anything while the captain is 'reporting' to the White Tiger."
"It's SOP, Ruka-chan. That asshole's still our commanding officer."
"They're taking too long though," Shou commented as he looked at his watch.
"Relax," Takeru snickered. "Ryu probably just got lost while driving. Echigo's a maze after all."
And just in time, the lobby doors opened, with Shin entering. All three soldiers stood in attention and gave their salute.
"As you were," Shin commanded flatly after giving a salute in response — all three sat.
"Took your time, Shin," Takeru quipped, still tossing the stress ball upward.
"Ryu got lost," Shin replied.
"Told ya," Takeru grinned at Shou who chuckled back nervously.
Shin made his way towards the table Ruka was sitting on. He noticed the fallen darts and picked it up. Noticing Takeru's stress ball, Shin threw the four darts sideways, hitting the ball in the air.
"Showoff," Takeru smirked when the ball landed again on his hand.
Takamura Ryunosuke finally entered the lobby, laughing awkwardly and was obviously blushing.
"Yo! Ryu!" Takeru greeted. "Heard you got lost — whoaaa!" Takeru stood, eyes growing wide.
"And that's why Ryu got lost," Shin chuckled as he sat opposite Ruka.
A girl followed Ryu through the door. She was pretty — almost ethereally so. And the uniform only added to the aesthetic, buttoned blouse and a pencil skirt hugging her slim body – she could have been a model if she wanted to.
"Hello there," Takeru slowly made his way to the girl with his signature attempt at suave and coolness.
"Attention, boys!" Shin barked, forcing Takeru and Ryu to stiffen at attention. Even Shou was slow to stand, captivated by the girl. Ruka leaned her head against her hand on the table, smirking amusedly at the situation before her. "Now that's nostalgic" the Lieutenant muttered.
"More like deja vu," Shin quipped back, both of them chuckling as they both remembered the time Ruka joined the unit. It was almost a mirror situation, with the exception that Shou wasn't a member yet.
"Can you introduce yourself first, Corporal," Shin commanded the girl.
"Yes sir!" She replied with confidence then bowed. "I am Tanaka Anna... Corporal Tanaka Anna, sir," the girl stuttered, Shin and Ruka's smirk widened while the three other guys seemed awestruck. "I've been assigned to the Black Dragon unit from now on..."
A/N: So, I can't seem to post the rest of the story due to some character limit I'm too lazy to understand. So if it ain't too much of a hassle, y'all can read the rest here at Fanprose.
Chapter 21: A Tale About Rooftops
8.6k words
No smut.
"Keep your feet moving, Seren!" Soyeon yelled from the bulwark.
Easy for you to say, you're just sitting there yelling instructions while your sister is having the time of her life pummelling me. Chaeyoung certainly was holding back less since that night — like something unlocked within her after opening up to me.
Now, every night since then, we meet in the rooftop of my apartment to spar — and the rest of the night tends to follow when we're alone again at the bulwark — well, it's only been the third night since then.
Soyeon joined us tonight, saying that she also has nothing else to do in the coven so she might as well keep overseeing my training — even bringing quarterstaffs for me and Chaeyoung to use. She also said that this is a good excuse to avoid the scrutiny of the Moon Guard — the personal force of Joohyun's brother and their counterpart within the Verrathi Coven.
I lunged at Chaeyoung with a thrust aimed at her head, she weaved her head aside calmly, smiling that sultry grin she always wears. She swiped her staff quickly against my thigh, and I was able to block it with the butt end of my staff. Our weapons locked and I rode the momentum, swinging her staff in a high arc and slamming it down the concrete tiles.
I grinned at her, adrenaline pumping in my veins as I was sure that for the first time, I've gained the advantage against Chaeyoung. Chaeyoung grinned back, and my confidence plummeted — she tackled me with her shoulder, then spun with an unfairly graceful roundhouse kick to my abdomen.
I landed with my back on the dusty floor, seeing literal stars in the night sky. I sat up, Chaeyoung was smirking at me while holding both of our staffs in her hands. "Lesson number — I don't know what lesson you both already are —" Chaeyoung chuckled. "But your weapon isn't your only weapon," she extended my staff towards me, I took it and Chaeyoung pulled me up. "The rest of your body is also a weapon," she added with a wink when we were face to face.
"I thought you meant that in a different context, Chaeng," I teased.
"If Soyeon wasn't here, you're gonna get that full context," Chaeyoung whispered back naughtily.
"Alright, are we done flirting?" Soyeon asked lazily, jumping down from the bulwark.
"Flirting never ends, my dear sister," Chaeyoung replied.
Soyeon just huffed, like indulging Chaeyoung with an answer is a waste of time. "Anyway, can I ask you something, Seren?"
"Yeah."
"What's the purpose of all this..." she gestured towards my whole body, "faerie dust on your body?"
I looked down at my body, dust settling just above my skin. "I... uh... I want to keep it active while fighting —"
"For what purpose? Do you hope it would dazzle your opponent or something?" Soyeon dryly interrupted.
I have no answer, because frankly, I don't know.
"You're just wasting energy. Either you find a purpose for that, or focus on your aero senses entirely when in combat."
"I'll... uh... try to find some way to make it useful."
Soyeon huffed, "You're pretty stubborn, huh. Fine. Find your own way of fighting. Just know that maintaining your faerie dust during combat is a detriment to you as you are now."
I then looked at Chaeyoung who shrugged her shoulders. "She has a point."
Soyeon turned to her sister, then rolled her eyes. "And yet you didn't correct him."
"I was trying to —"
"You've been here two nights, Chaeng. I could understand the first, but the second —"
I raised my hand nervously, "Uh.. Are we still talking about training?"
"You both know exactly what I'm talking about," Soyeon sighed in exasperation.
"Remind me who's older between us, Lee Soyeon," Chaeyoung puffed her chest and raised her chin indignantly.
Soyeon scoffed, "Please, our ages stopped mattering when we reached a millennia old."
"No, it did not."
"Then talk to Saerom with how you talk to me."
Chaeyoung scrunched her face in annoyance. Soyeon laughed, a quick and pleasant sound, and also the first time I heard her do so.
"Give it a try, then," our heads snapped into the voice of the third person. Saerom was standing at the bulwark, her red cloak fluttering in the cool night wind, her glaive strapped to her back.
"We're jesting, Saerom," Chaeyoung smiled calmly while she approached her sister. Soyeon just huffed, clearly unbothered.
Saerom raised an eyebrow at her, but otherwise, let the matter go. She dropped from the bulwark, landing gracefully like inertia didn't matter.
"It's good that you're training," Saerom remarked at me.
"Thank you. How are things at the coven? How is Joohyun? She hasn’t been attending classes lately... and she rarely contacts even Jimin," I asked.
"She's..." then Saerom sighed. "She's fine. Frustrated, but otherwise, alright."
"Frustrated why?" I asked.
"I take it the deliberations are over?" Soyeon followed.
Saerom nodded.
"What deliberations?" I asked again.
"Did our Princess lose?" Chaeyoung inched closer towards her sisters.
"Not exactly but, she got the shorter end of the stick."
"Uhm. Excuse me, I'm right here," I waved my staff to prove a point.
Saerom turned towards me, heaving another heavy sigh. Chaeyoung said they don't need to do that, but I guess sighing is a universal gesture for relieving frustration — even if one does not need to breathe.
"Joohyun is advocating for more aggressive action against the Hunt. Orion's clearly up to something, especially with the attack at the College, then the skirmish at the park. One Glade Lord is also confirmed personally leading the operations which indicates Orion's direct hand," Saerom replied.
"But?"
"Her brother opposes," Saerom said with almost a hint of contempt. "He's saying the Hunt has not struck the coven directly so full military action is not yet warranted."
"I take it their father didn't side with Joohyun?"
"Not exactly. He settled for a compromise, no direct military action, but intensified intelligence and counter-intelligence operations."
Chaeyoung cursed, "Why does the prince keep opposing her?"
"That's his purpose," Soyeon dryly responded. "They're both checks of each other. That way, nobody holds too much power."
"What's the point of having power then?" Chaeyoung teased, more to annoy Soyeon than actually wanting a serious reply.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Chaeng, even after eighteen hundred years," Soyeon bit back, making Chaeyoung snicker.
"Anyway," Saerom began, and our attentions immediately shifted back to her. "The Death Dealers are the covert arm of the coven so I'm going to deploy more of us in the field. I'm guessing my sisters will only have this week to train you every night. After that, they may be assigned to other missions as the need arises –"
"But —" Soyeon, Chaeyoung, and I began to protest but were immediately stopped as Saerom raised a hand.
"Let me finish," she paused to ensure she had all our attentions. "Saturday trainings remain, but during weeknights, either you train alone, or a younger Death Dealer spars with you... if we can spare it."
I nodded in understanding. "I just hope everything will be fine." That came out heavier than I intended, well, with the Wild Hunt now openly escalating hostilities, I guess it's only a matter of time. The other races may also spur to action — if they aren't already. Things may go faster now, I just hope I'm, no, we are ready for it.
"Oh it will," Saerom replied. "But it's going to get difficult first."
Chaeyoung chuckled again, "Ever the realist, aren't we, Romsae?"
"We've lived eighteen hundred years. Our time for fantasies are over."
"I say we have all the time in the world," Chaeyoung quipped back. Then she turned to me and winked, "Especially for fantasies."
"At least we're doing something," Soyeon chimed in. "I'd rather have hard times rather than doing nothing for a century."
"Ditto," Chaeyoung giggled.
"Are we done chatting?" Saerom asked.
"Why? Are you relieving us tonight?" Chaeyoung responded.
"Yes. I need the two of you to assist for our operational plans. The king wants to see it by tomorrow morning."
Chaeyoung and Soyeon groaned in displeasure, their shoulders dropping like students who were handed a project they have no interest in doing.
Saerom huffed in amusement then turned towards me, "You don't mind, do you?"
"No, not at all."
"Traitor. At least put a little resistance," Chaeyoung quipped.
"And risk having Saerom as my next sparring partner? Something tells me she won't be as forgiving as both of you."
"He's got a point," Soyeon shrugged her shoulders.
"Aww," Chaeyoung pouted. "Just when I was enjoying Seren's company."
"You were enjoying it for two nights already, Chaeng," Soyeon countered, rolling her eyes. Saerom on the other hand, raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
"Aaaanyway," Chaeyoung sing-songed, turning towards their Captain. "Aren't we needed at the coven?"
I tried to stifle a laugh. Saerom sighed again, which I would too, if I had to deal with Chaeyoung for eighteen hundred years.
"We'll be on our way, Seren. I suggest you turn in for the night as well," Saerom said calmly.
"Okay. Thank you, to all of you," I bowed. "And uhm.." I turned to Soyeon, holding the quarterstaff she brought, "can I keep this?"
Soyeon just nodded.
I bowed and said another round of thank yous before the trio leapt from the rooftop. Another sigh escaped my lips as I gave the staff a light flourish before making my way towards the bulwark to return to my apartment. I turned the faerie dust off, still maintaining my aero sense. Tomorrow's another day, but one thing is always sure — the Night always comes after.
------------
The college's rooftop has been a haven for us these past days. We lounge here during our free time just to avoid the crowd of students. Jimin and I are the usual people here, just talking, enjoying each other's company — and sneaking in a kiss or two.
Nobody comes up here, which I honestly don’t understand. Did rooftop hang outs go out of style when you graduate high school? That's a bleak thought.
The werebeasts made the bulwark their — outpost of sorts. Sometimes they morph and spend what time we have lounging in their beast forms. Yuna and Sullyoon have also returned to campus just yesterday. We talked about Project Eclipse Garden to them, with Ryujin cringing at the name. They said they'll give it a shot, saying that they really have nothing left to lose.
Minjeong usually hangs out with us, she's always grumbling recently — saying Chaewon is growing more distant. With their showcase scheduled for tomorrow however, she's preserving her voice and is now talking less.
Thursday noon shouldn't be much different — I hoped. Ryujin and Yeji were sparring on the bulwark with their beast forms. I lay down on a mat, Jimin was wrapped around one of my arms, while Chaeryoung, in her beast form, rested on my torso, my free hand stroking her soft fur. In the distance, Yuna was writing on some kind of journal while Sullyoon had brought gardening tools with her. The dryad said she was inspired by the Eclipse Garden concept and decided to make a garden out of a section of the rooftop.
It's peaceful. In an ideal world, this is what I envisioned Eclipse Garden becoming — but with the threat of the Hunt looming, we know these days are numbered.
Chaeryoung purred on my chest. Then I felt her ears perked. She lifted her head and turned to face the bulwark. I followed her gaze, spotting Yeji and Ryujin peeking from the top.
Then my senses tingled. I had already spread my consciousness in the air covering the entire rooftop as well as the stairwell leading to the bulwark. Five figures — I recognized Minjeong and Yizhuo immediately. As for the other three, I assumed it would be their bandmates, Jiwon, Haewon, and Lily.
I sat up, Jimin rising with me. "What is it?" She asked softly.
"Minjeong and her bandmates."
"Is the siren with them?" Jimin followed, making Chaeryoung turn her head towards us in curiosity.
"Yes. Jiwon."
"Still unsure about the other two?"
"Unfortunately."
"Are the huntresses fine staying in their beast forms?"
"They should be. Jiwon said they're pretty intimidated of them. Of course she could be lying to trap me further but, let's see if what she said was true."
Chaeryoung gave a soft huff after I said that, then turned her head back towards the bulwark as we waited for Minjeong's party to walk into the rooftop.
The knob lowers with an audible click, making Yuna and Sullyoon raise their heads and turn. Yizhuo came out first, followed by Lily and Haewon who were both laughing at something Lily said. Jiwon and Minjeong followed quietly behind, the latter's social battery clearly running out again.
The party then turned their heads and all of them except Minjeong jumped in surprise after seeing Jimin, me, and a slender big cat with yellow and brown stripes was staring at them.
"Yo! Great noon!" I greeted.
"Yeah," Minjeong drawled as she trudged towards Jimin. "I'm drained," she lay on the mat beside Jimin and immediately closed her eyes. "Don't talk to me, I'm taking a quick shut-eye."
Jimin and I chuckled. Then Lily's voice spread across the rooftop, her eyes fixed on Chaeryoung, "Is that a werebeast?"
"Yeah," I said sarcastically, making Jimin nudge me on the shoulder.
"I've never... seen one before," Lily said in awe.
"Is that Ms... the approachable one?" Jiwon asked.
"Chaeryoung, yes," I replied. I heard Chaeryoung utter a low growl, like she was laughing. "And careful," I added, "the other two may take that as a slight."
"Yeji and Ryujin?" Yizhuo asked.
"I don't see —" Haewon started — then yelped as a big black cat lands in front of them from the bulwark.
"Woah!" Haewon, Lily, and Jiwon jumped again in surprise.
Yizhuo giggled on the other hand. "Hey there, Ryujin," she greeted as Shin Ryujin sniffed the three newcomers.
Lily reached out a hand to touch Ryujin's snout as the huntress approached. Ryujin paused and bared her fangs, making Lily snap her hand back. "Sorry," the Aussie muttered. Ryujin's feline features calmed, then continued sniffing the newcomers.
"You implied that Ms Yeji is also here?" Haewon asked, her voice strained with nervousness, but not fright.
"Yeah, right behind you," I pointed.
The girls turned and they jumped for a third time. Yeji crouched behind them, a brown cat with a blonde patch on her head.
"You said you wanted to greet them, didn't you?" I teased.
"Yeah," Haewon stuttered. "Uhm.. hi!" She greeted Ryujin tentatively.
Ryujin sniffed her again then gave a growl. She turned then leapt back on the bulwark with Yeji and Chaeryoung following after.
"Why are they —?" Haewon asked, tip toeing and trying to take a peek at the bulwark.
"They're going to dress up. You can't exactly converse with a werebeast in their beast forms," I chuckled. "Unless..." I added, looking conspiratorially at Jiwon, "you're Night Folk."
Jiwon gave a knowing smirk as our eyes met.
"Even among Night Folk, there are only a few races and individuals who can, Seren," Jimin said beside me.
"Hmm," I hummed as the girls approached us.
"So, uhm," Yizhuo began. "Introductions... girls, this Yu Jimin," she gestured towards Jimin who waved with an adorable grin.
"Jimin, these are, Jiwon..."
"Sup," Jiwon raised a hand.
"She prefers Liz, but... you can call her whatever you want," Yizhuo added.
"Then I'll call you Liz," Jimin remarked, earning a smile from the girl who I am 80% sure is a siren.
"This is Haewon," Yizhuo gestured towards Haewon who was still trying to get a peek of the werebeasts at the bulwark.
"And this is Lily," Yizhuo concluded.
"Pleasure to meet you," Lily bowed like she's bowing for a performance, her heavy australian accent carrying across the rooftop.
Jimin tilted her head, "Austral —"
Lily's eyes began to lift up. Yizhuo and Liz snapped their heads in alarm, even Haewon turned.
I immediately grabbed Jimin's wrist before she could finish that one word, "Yes, Jimin, she's from... where you're thinking she's from... and... uh..."
Jimin's eyes grew wide in confusion, then realization, "Ooh, so she's..." she pointed awkwardly at Lily.
"Yeah. She's the yapper..." I whispered.
"What were you about to say, Ms Jimin?" Lily asked.
Jimin shook her head in alarm, "Oh... uhm..." I chuckled in spite of myself as she stuttered, her eyes searching the rooftop for an excuse to get out of this situation. "I'm just... uh..." her gaze then landed on Yuna and Sullyoon who were observing the entire exchange from their side of the rooftop, "I'm just introducing our other friends," she gestured towards the fae and the dryad. "That's Shin Yuna, a third year like Seren and I. And..."
"Seol YoonAh," Jiwon completed.
"We have a class with YoonAh," Lily added.
"And we know of Ms Shin Yuna, well, she's pretty popular in campus," Haewon said.
They waved at Sullyoon, who waved back with a small gesture of her hand.
I nudged Jimin's shoulder then whispered teasingly, "Smooth."
"Shut up."
"So," came a voice from the bulwark. We all looked up and the werebeasts were sitting on the edge. "What brings you to our little..." Yeji's eyes drift towards Sullyoon who has resumed her gardening, "...garden?"
"Well, uhm..." Yizhuo began. "We just thought we'd introduce them to you guys. You know, expand our social circle."
Ryujin turned to Yeji, "Does it need expanding?" The huntress asked almost innocently.
"Don't be rude, Ryujin," Chaeryoung admonished.
"This is exactly why they think Chaeryoung is the only approachable one," I chimed in.
"You're the least approachable, Shin Ryujin," Jimin chuckled.
"Can't, and won't argue with that," Yeji doubled down, eliciting laughter from all of us.
"Well," Jiwon began, "it's good to finally put names to faces."
"You'd like that, don't you?" I struck, as normally as I can say. But it was not Jiwon's reactions I was watching — it was the other two for any subtle reactions, any tells that they might be sirens just like Jiwon.
"Of course," Jiwon replied without missing a beat. "Who knows, if we get close to them, they might help us out if we're in a tight spot."
"And why would we do that?" Ryujin muttered, earning a judging look from her teammates.
"Don't mind her, Liz," Jimin said, "Ryujin can be... tactless at times."
"I'm not —"
"Ryujin —" I raised a hand then shook my head playfully. "Just... don't."
The huntress turned towards her teammates, Yeji nodded teasingly while Chaeryoung was trying hard not to snicker.
The girls chuckled at Ryujin's expression from being comically betrayed by her teammates.
"Anyway," Jimin breaks through the laughter, "sit with us." She gestured at the empty space in the mat in front of us.
"Thanks," Yizhuo responded, gesturing for their bandmates to sit down with her.
Once the girls were settled, I looked up to the huntresses, "Are the three of you not coming down?"
"We're good here," Yeji gave a thumbs up.
"We are?" Ryujin muttered, making her teammates chuckle.
"And you two over there?" I called for Yuna and Sullyoon
"We're good, Seren. YoonAh seems focused on her gardening," Yuna called back. Sullyoon gave a thumbs up without even raising her head.
"Quite a ragtag bunch of misfits," Jiwon commented.
"Ragtag is an understatement," Jimin replied.
"So is misfits," I added.
"So is this your harem, Seren?" Lily asked bluntly, making me choke in my throat.
Jimin chuckled awkwardly while Ryujin was laughing out loud from the bulwark. "Seren's one lucky guy if it is."
The girls giggled, Yizhuo sporting a pinkish hue on her cheeks. Jimin leaned closer and whispered connivingly, "Although you were indeed... intimate... with more than half of the girls on this rooftop right now."
"Shut up," I snapped back with an awkward smile. This girl — ever since we've cleared everything between us, she's been a menace — a menace I still love. But she did not have to remind me that the web of relationships I have with almost all the women in this rooftop would give a spider anxiety.
"Anyway, how are the preparations for the showcase tomorrow?" I asked.
"Why do you think Minjeong's out cold?" Haewon replied, motioning at Minjeong who was snoring softly.
We all chuckled quietly so as not to awaken her.
"That hard?" Jimin followed my inquiry.
"Not really," Yizhuo replied. "Just... exhausting. And Minjeong was on duty at the Archives last night."
"Yeah. Minjeong looked pretty tired last night," Jimin's voice was laced with concern as she glanced at Minjeong's sleeping form. "Something about Chaewon too," Jimin added softly.
"Kim Chaewon?" Jiwon asked. "The pyro-sorceress?"
Jimin nodded.
"What about her?" Lily followed.
"They're sisters," Yizhuo replied before I can stop her.
The three girls collectively oohed.
"Did she invite her to the showcase?" Haewon asked, and Yizhuo nodded.
Damn it. This girl's revealing too much information. Then again, she does not suspect a thing — and I have no means to tell her.
"Well, I'm sure Ms Chaewon's going to be proud of Minjeong after the showcase," Jiwon smiled, gazing softly at Minjeong.
This felt wrong. Not dangerous… just wrong. I'm pretty sure Jiwon is a siren. Yet I feel no hostility from her — even from her companions. She does seem to want to be friends with Minjeong and Yizhuo — and to all of us as well.
So why did my Wild Instinct blared that day at the Archives? Was it just to tell me that at least one of the three girls is a Night Folk? Or is there something more?
Before any answers come to my mind, the campus chime rings, signalling the end of lunch break and the five minute call before the first period of the afternoon.
"Well," Yizhuo sighed. "I think that's all the time we have."
“Shame," Lily pouted. "I wanted to talk more," she added, making Haewon giggle.
"We're going down, you guys coming with?" Jiwon asked as she rose.
I glanced up, the huntresses are still lounging at the bulkwark. I turned to Sullyoon and Yuna — both of them don't seem to be in a hurry.
"No, we'll stay for a while," I replied while Jimin woke Minjeong up.
The girl stirred so adorably that she reminded me of the times I woke Chaewon up from her naps. The only difference is that Chaewon gets cranky immediately, which is adorable in her own way. Minjeong on the other hand, just whines cutely. And why the hell am I thinking about Chaewon right now?
"Me too," Minjeong's words pulled me out of my thoughts. She sounded so small, her eyes drooping, like she'll fall back to sleep anytime. "I still want to sleep."
"No, you're not, Kim Minjeong," Yizhuo playfully pulled her up. "We still have classes. And you're not making me sit in our Ethics class alone while you doze off here in the warm sunlight."
Minjeong gave a dry and weary chuckle before turning towards Jimin and me, "See you both tomorrow," she waved. Her bandmates also waved us goodbye, and shortly disappeared after entering the bulwark.
The huntresses immediately jumped down and huddled towards us. Yuna did so as well — Sullyoon kept gardening.
"So, that was the siren?" Yeji asked.
"The mystical looking one?" Chaeryoung followed.
"Jiwon, yes."
"You guys said I'm tactless," Ryujin chimed in, making Yuna and Jimin snicker.
"You can't still be hung up about that?" Chaeryoung snapped back.
"It hurt my feelings, so yeah, I'm still hung up about it."
"Forgive her, it's not her day for being mature," Yeji told Yuna whose shoulders are rising and falling.
"And who am I going to forgive?" Ryujin said indignantly.
"Fine, we're sorry," I said, "happy now?"
"If you give me a kiss, I would," Ryujin winked.
"Not on my watch, Shin Ryujin," Jimin quipped back, holding on my sleeve possesively.
"Anyway," I interrupted, "do you sense anything from her, Ryujin?"
"Nada. Not a thing," Ryujin replied.
"And is that bad?" Yuna asked.
"They're too normal," I replied.
"Again, is that bad?" Yuna repeated.
"I don't know. My Instincts flared up when I first met her. I'm 80% sure she's a siren because she used Compulsion on me — didn't work by the way. And yet I still don't feel like she means us harm."
"Maybe she doesn't," Jimin said flatly, and we all turned to her. Jimin then sighed at our collective expressions of confusion, curiosity, and amusement.
"Okay. We'll give Seren the benefit of the doubt that Liz is a siren. But can't we also give the same benefit to the girl? Nothing has happened to Minjeong and Yizhuo so far, right? Maybe she does want to be friends with them, is that so wrong?"
That shut us all up.
"You guys live in a world where you see an enemy in every corner. Well, haven't you ever thought that maybe sometimes there aren't," Jimin continued. "Maybe there are also just humans... or even Night Folk like you who just... I don't know... want to live peacefully?"
"You haven't lived in our world, Jimin," Yeji replied softly.
"But she's not wrong either," Yuna said.
A contemplative silence befalls our group. I've never thought of it that way, was I getting to caught up in Night Folk mindset that I became paranoid? Was I seeing enemies in every corner?
"Besides," Jimin broke the silence once again. "We'll be at their showcase tomorrow. If anything happens, Seren is there — he's trained a bit. Maybe he could hold them off while I call for all of you."
Yeji nodded, "Fine. As long as you call us immediately if anything feels wrong, even weird."
"We will," I assured the huntress.
The bell chimed again, signalling the start of the first afternoon periods.
"So are we going to class or are we just gonna loiter here?" We all jumped as Sullyoon spoke behind us. We were so focused on our discussion that we never noticed her approach.
"I'd say we stay here. Anyone in favor?" Ryujin said, raising a hand — only Yuna answered her call.
"Killjoys," Ryujin muttered, making Yuna chuckle.
"Come on, Ryujin. We have a Philosophy class coming up," Chaeryoung said, pulling the huntress up her feet.
"Only you and Jimin enjoy that class," Ryujin grumbled.
"Then sleep there," Yeji said, chuckling.
"Professor's not gonna scold you anyway. You're a huntress, and he's just a human," Yuna commented.
"Stop giving her ideas, Shin Yuna," Jimin quipped. And seeing the dangerous glint in Ryujin's eyes, that warning was probably not as unfounded as it sounds.
We laughed as we pulled the door open and plunged ourselves back to reality — leaving our little garden behind.
--------------
Night falls and I'm back at my apartment's rooftop with my quarterstaff in hand. Ever since I've discovered how to commune with the air, the cold night wind never bothered anymore, neither did heat during daytime — like I have a built in thermostat that keeps everything just right.
There was no sign of the Death Dealers yet. Well, Saerom did say that they were about to be busier. I gave my staff a quick flourish as I stood on the center of the rooftop. I extended my consciousness from six feet to ten feet around me. I released faerie dust, more out of habit than purpose — I never found a practical use for it in combat yet.
I took a deep breath before doing the motions — starting slow. I continued repeating the movements, going faster and harder after every loop, pushing how far I can physically maintain everything while mentally sustaining other active abilities. I built up some sweat, which made me feel lighter, but fortunately, never out of breath.
I took a quick break, looking up to the clear sky to see a nearly full moon. My breathing steadied, my muscles relaxed — then something intruded my space behind me. Not the teasing presence of Chaeyoung nor the testing aura of Soyeon — not even the charismatic pressure of Saerom. This one was thin and fast — like a hot needle thrusting through butter. There was no sound to the approach, and the hair on my nape stood immediately on edge. Every instinct I had screamed to move, to get out of the way — to run.
I jerked my head to the side then felt the cold kiss of steel on my cheek. I side stepped then backtracked, taking as much distance as I can from my assailant. When I finally got a good look at him — my body shook as dread filled my very being.
He was lean, with a golden antlered crown that was broken and snapped in a lot of places. His leaf green cloak was tattered, he wore no armor, his torso racked with scars that glowed with a sick greenish hue. Then he faced me – and I almost felt pity. His left eye was gone — a scar carved from forehead to collarbone.
I raised my staff as my breathing quickens. Cold sweat mixed with the blood that was trickling down my cheek.
"You've grown quicker, you little shit," the Glade Lord said with contempt. Rage balanced out my anxiety as I remembered who this Glade Lord is, the one who turned Yuna’s capture into a spectacle, like theatrics, and provoked Sullyoon over the edge during the rescue op.
I growled as I aimed the tip of my staff directly between his eyes, "Indarin," I spat with all the hatred and contempt I could muster as I braced myself for battle against a Glade Lord who has come to either take me to his master, or take my head off of my shoulders
Indarin dropped his shoulders then pointed his rapier at me. "You owe me, Vale," he growled, low and dry, like his throat was parched.
"I don't owe you anything." I need to buy time for reinforcements, for the Death Dealers, for anyone to come. I don't know if I can hold him off in combat, so the more he talks, the better.
"Oh you fucking do, you fucking pest," we started moving in a circle. "Your little, rescue mission," he spat, "disgraced me from Lord Orion's eyes."
"Is that why he took one of yours?"
"Are you amused by that fact, huh, unholy hybrid," Indarin taunted.
My mind raced, does he know what I am? Does Orion know? Is that why they're after me?
"What do you mean by that?"
"Oooh, curious now, are we," Indarin chuckled sinisterly. "Tell you what, Vale. I'll reveal to you what you are, in exchange for one of your eyes. You can give me Shin Yuna and that impertinent dryad as well as a token of good faith. I'll break their bodies, make them my slaves and —"
"And you talk too much," again, taunting is probably not the wisest decision when you're facing down a Glade Lord — but he doesn't get to talk like that to my friends.
The Glade Lord laughed with difficulty, like his throat never had water since Yuna's rescue. "Oh, I'll talk. If you accept my bargain —"
"It's a shitty bargain —"
"Fit for a shitty hybrid like you. Seriously, what were your parents thinking when they created you? And that sage, Allindra Vale, taking you in like you're not a monster like the rest of us."
The conversation I had with Jimin struck me again. I flexed my grip on my staff, before replying, "My blood doesn't define my humanity, my actions does."
"And that's why you're weak," the Glade Lord growled. "You don't know your full potential, all the powers that heaven and hell bestowed upon you. You can have everything in this world if you wanted — women, wealth, power. Men will genuflect for you, women will bend over for you — both Human and Night Folk. Just give me your eye, and I'll tell you what you are."
Powers that heaven and hell bestowed upon me? What the hell is this Glade Lord rambling about? He's fae, so he can't lie. So he either is telling the truth, or he believes he's telling the truth.
Anyway, I have more reliable ways to know the truth of what I am — like the seer of the siren cove, if everything goes well with the infiltration. It would take longer yes, but I'm not rushing, it certainly beats losing an eye for it.
"How about no," I said defiantly.
"Well then," Indarin poked the end of his rapier with his index finger. "Lord Orion said to bring you alive — but he didn't say in one piece. So I'll take your eye, and drag your half dead body to him so that his favor to me will return."
Then he disappeared, moving too fast that my eyes struggled to adjust. Good thing I have my aero sense, or else I would have been pierced in half a dozen places by now when Indarin struck with a flurry of thrusts I barely blocked with my staff. Those that got through caused shallow cuts as I was able to maneuver and avoid any lethal strike.
I retreated, leaving Indarin laughing maniacally at the center of the rooftop floor. I winced at my injuries, two cuts on my left forearm, a shallow thrust pierced my right shoulder, and another cut tickled my left collar.
I can't beat him
He's too quick.
He'll wear me down.
I need help.
And I need it now.
"I've heard you met Durzan," Indarin spoke again. "He gave you your punch back, as I heard. He would've taken you, removed all your limbs before handing you to Lord Orion. At least I'm just asking for your eye."
"Find someone else's eyes, then," I replied.
"You really want to do this the hard way, huh," Indarin shook his head as if he feels pity on me. "Have it your way, then," then he disappeared again.
I extended my aero sense from ten to twelve feet. It's a risk, trading it for my physical capabilities, but I need to sense where he is and how he's moving in order to avoid him. Having my senses only at ten feet feels way too short for his speed.
And I think it paid off — I sensed his approach a lot more clearly, how his rapier cut through the wind, even how heavy his steps were. I was able to block all his strikes, but the power behind them still pushed me back. And I remain on the defensive, which I can't afford to be. Indarin can outlast me, which means one way or another, I need to strike back.
"Impressive, impressive," Indarin mockingly applauded. "Keep struggling, Vale, otherwise this won't be as satisfying as I'd wanted it to be."
Indarin charged again, and it didn’t make sense how much faster he became. He overwhelmed my aero sense — knocked my staff aside with his offhand and thrusted directly towards one of my eyes. It was as if it was in slow motion, my senses overloading, aero sense warning me acutely how close the tip of the blade was while my eyes stare directly at it.
I almost felt it touch my eyeballs when a projectile rips through my aero sense — a quarrel from a handbow. It hit Indarin's rapier, making me close my eye as sparks flew where metal struck metal.
Indarin's sword hand swung wide after that deflection. Then two red blurs appeared, one behind him, with a glaive raised high, while the other appeared in between us, red crescent daggers striking low to prevent Indarin's escape.
The Death Dealers swung simultaneously — and somehow, Indarin was able to evade. Fortunately, not without visible damage. The glaive knocked his antlered helm off while two gashes now dripped green blood from where the daggers sliced his stomach.
I breathed a sigh of relief as the two Death Dealers stood beside me — Saerom to my right, holding her glaive high, and Chaeyoung to my left, switching one of her daggers into a reverse grip. Soyeon stood at the bulwark, her handbow aimed directly at Indarin.
"Two Glade Lords in a week," Chaeyoung chimed playfully. "You're getting lucky with your dance partners, Romsae," she playfully teased Saerom.
Then she turned to me, "You okay, Seren?"
"Yeah. A few cuts but, nothing deadly." I then turned to Saerom, "Still want to take a Glade Lord one on one?"
"No," Saerom replied coolly. "All of us will be dancing with him," she lowered her glaive in a stance similar to what Soyeon taught me.
"That's more like it," Chaeyoung chirped, assuming her own stance, reverse grip blade held in front of her.
"Ahhh.. the Lee sisters. The Pale Princess's personal guard," Indarin mocked. "Lord Orion will be more than pleased if I give even one of your heads to him — imagine if I give him all three, plus the hybrid."
"What hybrid?" Chaeyoung asked me.
"Later," I replied and Chaeyoung nodded.
"Think we can take him?" I asked Saerom.
"We've called for the princess," she replied. "She's coming. We just need to hold out."
"We also saw some of the werebeast recon corps, they're probably calling for reinforcements from the hunters right now," Chaeyoung added.
"Then we hold him off." I flexed my grip on my staff, watching Indarin directly — then he disappeared again.
"Take my right, Seren," I heard Saerom command as he charged Indarin head on from the front. Chaeyoung sprinted left, and I went right. Soyeon loosed a bolt, and the spark in the air where Indarin intercepted it was my only indication of his location.
Saerom and Indarin clashed, glaive against rapier. The Death Dealer had the reach advantage, but Indarin was faster, poking for openings at her guard. Chaeyoung was behind him, slashing with her daggers but hitting only his cloak.
I charged forward, aiming for Indarin's exposed flank. He turned to face me, Saerom's glaive came high and he blocked with his rapier. Chaeyoung lunged with her dagger, the Glade Lord caught her wrist. But now I have an opening to strike since his arms are occupied.
Then another figure appears behind Indarin, one leg raised high in what would be a vicious axe kick — Lee Chaeryoung, the fastest werebeast huntress, strikes immediately while still in her human form.
My first thought was – we got him. But my instincts said it's not over until it's over — and I hate it that my instincts were correct.
Indarin roared then twisted his body, throwing Saerom off balance. He threw Chaeyoung by the wrist towards me, flinging us a couple of meters. He raised his feet and before Chaeryoung's kick can land, Indarin struck with a kick of his own, knocking the huntress away. In the same motion, he grabbed Saerom's arm and flung her towards Chaeryoung.
Another bolt blows past Indarin, missing his ear by millimeters. He turned, setting his sights at Soyeon. He charged towards the bulwark, faster than I've seen Chaeryoung ever moved.
Soyeon dropped her handbow and hastily drew her own dagger, barely but successfully blocking Indarin's first thrust. But the second thrust was quicker, Soyeon jerked her head away but it still caught her by the side of her neck, the blade drawing blood as it went through and exited on the other side of her flesh. Soyeon swiped the rapier aside with her other dagger, drawing more blood as it cut through the flesh of her neck.
Indarin's off hand was on her neck immediately. He was about to snap her neck when two more figures leapt towards the bulwark. Growling in rage and frustration, the Glade Lord tossed Soyeon off the bulwark.
He spun again, kicking the first figure aside — a brown big cat - Hwang Yeji. He extended his rapier, piercing through the big black cat that is Shin Ryujin. Ryujin whimpered as Indarin threw her off the bulwark as well.
Damn it — I thought as Chaeyoung helped me up. Seven of us. Ambush. Positioning. It didn’t matter. We still can't even touch Indarin. Joohyun better get here fast, or she'll discover six dead bodies, three of them her most trusted subordinates, and one missing Seren Vale.
"Is that all!" Indarin roared from the bulwark. "Disappointing," he paced restlessly on top of the bulwark. "Fucking disappointing!"
Saerom pulled Soyeon towards her. Chaeyoung held her neck, putting pressure on her wound. Chaeryoung on the other hand, did the same to Ryujin, with Yeji standing protectively in front of them.
I stood in the center, glaring up at Indarin.
The Glade Lord points his bloodied rapier at me, a wicked smile then spread across his lips, "My blade will taste your blood next."
And he charged again straight towards me. I braced with my staff, as the Death Dealers and the Huntresses sprang into action.
The Death Dealers rushed from my right, Soyeon ignoring her bleeding neck. The huntresses charged from my left, Chaeryoung finally morphing into her beast form. Together, they threatened Indarin with a pincer attack.
Without slowing his momentum, Indarin blocked Saerom's glaive just as Yeji sank her fangs on his arm. He ignored the bite, then hurled Yeji straight into Chaeyoung. Indarin spun and kicked Saerom who blocked with her glaive — the glaive split in half and the Glade Lord's feet found Saerom's chest. I saw the Death Dealer spit blood before flying towards the edge of the rooftop.
Ryujin met him next, with Soyeon and Chaeryoung positioning themselves behind the Glade Lord. Indarin extended his rapier, forcing Ryujin to back down. The Glade Lord turned, caught Chaeryoung's neck and slammed her down on top of Soyeon.
Ryujin roared in defiance and pounced, only to have Indarin's rapier impale her again. She grows limp on Indarin's blade who just lowers it, allowing her body to slip off the sickly green steel. Now only Yeji and Chaeyoung remained, and if the seven of us cannot take him down, what can three of us do?
Indarin started walking — and we backed up. "I ask again, Vale. Was that all?"
Fuck — we're fucked — was the only thought in my head.
Yeji snarled defiantly, then she charged. Chaeyoung moved right — and I was frozen in place.
Indarin caught Yeji by the throat when she pounced then moved her between him and Chaeyoung. The Death Dealer hesitated, giving Indarin time to impale Yeji with his rapier. The Glade Lord dropped the huntress then made for Chaeyoung, planting his fist on the Death Dealer's abdomen. Chaeyoung crumpled, then collapsed on the tiles.
Indarin turned towards me, a wicked grin in his lips, "Now it's just you and me, Vale. Just like how it started."
He's too fast.
He lunged at me casually, I blocked — or I thought I blocked. I felt the weight of the rapier get deflected just as a burning pain pierced my thigh. I staggered back.
He's playing with me.
He struck again — hitting my left shoulder and grazing my right temple.
Why is he so fast?
Another thrust — I barely parried it with my staff, yet it still sliced at my left forearm.
When is Joohyun arriving?
My vision slowly blurred, the dome of my aero sense slowly deflating. All I have now is just faerie dust swirling all over my body.
If only I was just fast enough.
If only I can make him think I'm fast enough to be a threat.
With a primal growl, I swung my staff — one final act of defiance. Indarin scoffed, moving his rapier leisurely to block the strike.
And I hit him.
Straight in the head, staggering the Glade Lord and making him spit green blood.
Shock was painted across the Glade Lord's face. The same shock mirrored in my face.
"How –?" He growled the same question that was in my head.
He thrust his rapier — it should have hit me right in the heart. Instead it missed just inches above my shoulder, dust swirling around the blade. I struck again, thrusting towards Indarin's abdomen. The Glade Lord meant to block, but it hit him before he can reposition, staggering him a few steps away from me. It seemed like he can't properly anticipate the timing of my strikes — which does not make sense considering that he is leagues faster than I am.
"What the fuck are you doing, Vale?!" Indarin roared.
I looked at my arms, nothing but blood, sweat and — faerie dust. Then I remembered one of the applications of faerie dust that Yuna told me — perception and sensory manipulation — particularly the vision. Did me thinking that Indarin would perceive my speed differently activated the glamour? Is it the one messing with Indarin's perception?
I then decided to put it to the test. I charged Indarin, raising my staff high. The Glade Lord suddenly became more conscious, he raised his rapier to block. His timing was correct, it's just — the blow came from the opposite direction entirely. I struck his blind side, taking him by surprise and validating my theory.
I allowed myself a twisted grin, perhaps this would allow us to turn the tide.
"What the hell are you —?" Indarin roared in confusion.
He was interrupted with multiple strikes from my staff, the speed of each one deceptively altered by faerie dust. Each one he was not able to block.
He staggered back. The brief respite allowed me one heavy breath, and then expanding my consciousness all over the rooftop again. I was relieved to feel that the huntresses were still breathing, their pulses beating faintly. The same can't be said to the vampires, they don't breathe and they don't have a pulse by default — but I have to trust that they are still alive.
The trick allowed me to at least put Indarin in the back foot. But I still need something to decisively end this. I have a staff, and I doubt it can put Indarin down indefinitely.
Our exchanges only seemed to enrage him further, and it would only be a matter of time before he decides to just brute force his way through me.
And that time came sooner rather than later.
Indarin roared in frustration, overwhelming my offense with the speed of his own. Fortunately, my defense was holding up — a combination of fae glamour and aero sense allowed me to avoid his strikes. But again, defense won't win me this encounter.
Indarin kept applying pressure on me. Then he raised his rapier and thrust, before it hits me, a yellow and brown cat pounces on his back — Lee Chaeryoung, back in action. She closes her jaws on Indarin's shoulder blades, making the Glade Lord bellow in pain. He moves his rapier to strike Chaeryoung but was stopped when Soyeon, face pale and neck still bleeding, staggered and held his sword arm down.
Indarin roared again, attempting to punch Soyeon off his sword arm. That arm was then yanked as Yeji bit it down hard, forcing the Glade Lord down to one knee.
Indarin struggled to his feet, growling and cursing. Then Ryujin emerges on the other side of his back, pouncing and sinking her fangs deep within his opposite shoulder — finally bringing him to his knees. Chaeyoung limped beside me, handing me one of her red crescent daggers. I took it, and with a nod, we lunged, and thrust both our daggers to either side of his chest.
Indarin screamed as he stubbornly held on. We made eye contact, his eyes burning green with rage —
Then a blade sprouts from his face, right on the bridge of his nose.
Saerom's glaive — thrust by the Captain of the Death Dealers with a sickening crunch from behind his head.
Indarin went limp.
Slowly, we each let go of our holds — and the Glade Lord falls before us, lifeless.
Soyeon collapses first, caught by Chaeyoung. Ryujin follows, reverting to her human form. The other huntresses also morphed back, crowding Ryujin and checking her injuries — two pairs of stab wounds, one through the stomach, the other through her right shoulder.
There was no pretense in hiding their naked bodies anymore as the werebeasts took care of each other. Chaeryoung put pressure on Ryujin's wounded stomach while she herself had an ugly bruise on her right hip and left shoulder. Yeji on the other hand, pressed one hand on Ryujin's shoulder while pressing the other one on her own stab wound just below her left breast.
"You all okay?" I asked.
Yeji nodded, "We'll be fine. Ryujin will be fine as long as help arrives soon. Go to Soyeon, she's in the worst shape among all of us."
I nodded, then turned towards the Death Dealers. Chaeyoung cradled Soyeon's head as Saerom inspects the wound on her neck. "She needs blood," Saerom remarked.
I approached immediately, offering my wrist, "Take mine."
Saerom and Chaeyoung took a quick look at my wrist, clearly debating whether they should agree or not. Then Saerom pushes my arm away, "No. You're wounded too. If Soyeon feeds on you as you are, you'll die."
I cursed under my breath.
"Reinforcements should have brought some blood packs in case of emergencies," Chaeyoung whispered, concern etched in her voice.
"They better," Saerom said, tensely watching the corners of the rooftop. She's getting fidgety from waiting for relief. "I'm not letting another one of my sisters die on my watch," she muttered. Chaeyoung closed her eyes as she tried to force the tears not to drop down.
As if on cue, two different groups leapt from opposite sides of the rooftop. On one side, I recognized Joohyun's white dress, flanked by one squad of about ten black cloaked Death Dealers.
On the other side was Seulgi, dressed in all black leather and combat boots. A similarly numbered squad of hunters and huntresses trailed behind her alongside about four birds.
Reinforcements... finally.
I allowed myself to relax as I sat on the rooftop tiles.
Joohyun's squad was on Soyeon immediately, taking out blood bags from their coats for the injured Death Dealer.
The reinforcing hunters also covered Yeji's team with cloaks. One bird dives, a white falcon by the looks of it, and morphs back to human form in mid-air — landing straight towards Chaeryoung's arms. Chaeryoung embraced the falcon huntress who looked just like her — must be her sister, I thought, recalling a conversation I had with her and Sakura.
Joohyun hovered beside me, "It's been centuries since one of them was injured like this," she whispered with concern as her vampires work to stabilize Soyeon.
Seulgi crouched on my other side, "And it's been centuries since someone actually killed a Glade Lord."
"Disgraced," I replied heavily.
“But a Glade Lord all the same. Do not undervalue your achievements, Seren," Seulgi answered softly.
"He said some things, about me —"
"Those can wait," Joohyun interrupted. "We patch our injuries first — then we'll talk."
I nodded wearily, finally feeling the sting of every cut Indarin gave me. I looked to the sky, the moon was directly above us and wondered how quickly peace can break. I looked down to Indarin's dead body, and followed that thought with another realization — that violence can be ended just as unceremoniously.
The messenger announced, a lanky boy that seemed fresh out of boot camp, all too eager to follow any orders just to climb the ranks of the daimyo's army. The rest of the soldiers inside the command tent rolled their eyes. This is all just formality, even Shin had the urge to stand and immediately take to the field himself.
"By order of Colonel Daigoro Shirotora," the messenger continued, "you are hereby commanded to face the champion of the traitor, Uesugi Kagetatsu, in single combat to the death. The stipulations: any bladed weapon will do while firearms are prohibited! Should you lose, Uesugi Kagetatsu's claim to expand his fief is granted. Should you live, he surrenders all his holdings, including his family, and forfeits his life!"
"Is that it, Corporal?" Shin asked, expecting nothing new as he straightened in his seat. The young soldier nodded in affirmation.
Another duel, he thought. He was not surprised at the command, after all, he is the best fighter with a blade and a gun fighting under the Shimazu banner — and he's been fighting these duels since the start of this campaign.
"More glory for you today, taicho!" A muscular man said with a gruff voice.
Shin sighed, "I'd rather not, to be honest, Sgt Takamura."
"Why not, Shin?" A leaner soldier chimed in while cleaning a sniper rifle that was almost his height.
"I swing the blade, and the White Tiger still gets all the glory without even lifting a finger. Is that fair, Takeru?" Shin replied.
Colonel Daigoro "the White Tiger" Shirotora has been waging this war for months, all under the banner of the Shimazu clan. It's a wonder the Daimyo hasn't reeled him in yet. But then again, less dissension means more control, so why would Lord Shimazu interfere.
"Is it wise to say that in front of his messenger?" Sgt Maeda Takeru followed with a knowing grin.
"Let him hear it," Shin replied calmly. "What's he gonna do? Execute me? Then who will be the blade he'll swing upon the next traitor he sees?" The messenger was clearly uncomfortable, biting his lip and avoiding Shin's gaze.
What irks him is serving under a right bastard like the White Tiger. He was callous, punishing lesser daimyos severely even if they don't deserve it, sometimes even including the peasants who have no choice but to obey their lords. Whatever made the Shogun think it was good to assign Shin under him was beyond his understanding. Good thing the White Tiger's also pragmatic, or else he'll just order bombing strikes to these opponent daimyos.
Shin snaps his head to another boy, almost the same age as the messenger. "Shou! Get my blades ready!"
"Which ones, taicho?" Corporal Kagami Shouichi replied in a tone almost as enthusiastic as the Colonel's messenger.
"The katana and the wakizashi."
"Copy that, taicho!" the young Corporal then disappears as he heads to the command tent's armory.
"And you, Corporal...?" Shin turned again to the messenger.
"Corporal Saito, sir!"
"Tell the White Tiger I'll be out in ten minutes."
Corporal Saito salutes in acknowledgment and rushes out of the command tent.
Shin wearily stood when the messenger left and faced his team. They were a special operations team, specialized for operations that require minimal casualties and maximum results. But right now, the only one who may be a casualty is Shin — all in exchange for one bloody castle. Yep, that lives up to the motto alright.
Shin scanned the tent, his gaze finally lands on Sgt Takamura. "Will you be my second on this duel, Ryu?"
"Thought you'd never ask," Takamura Ryunosuke rose to his full height. Five foot ten, tall by Japanese standards — and freakishly big. He turned to the massive chest by the side of his bunk and opened it with a loud crash.
Shin glanced at the chest. "Why the hell do you carry all that?" He asked as he noted multiple high caliber firearms, a naginata, and a no dachi among others.
Ryu grinned before pulling out a massive kanabo studded with black stones that appear to be polished granite.
"One weapon for every situation, taicho," he replied, grinning widely as he slung the massive club on his shoulder.
Shin sighed then turned to Takeru, "Can you ask our pretty specialist on who would likely be my opponent?"
Takeru nodded with a sly grin. He placed his rifle on his bunk and slowly, almost arrogantly made his way to a girl sitting in the center of the command tent. She was surrounded by monitors with a lollipop in her mouth.
"Hey there, Ruka-chan!" Takeru greeted in an attempt to sound cool and suave, raising a palm for a high five.
Lieutenant Kawai Ruka ignored him. She spun her chair around to face the rest of the unit. She was the team's tech specialist — hacking, data analysis, logistics, strategic and tactical planning, every task that needs a brain was done by her — an important balance to the knuckleheads assigned to the unit.
And she was pretty, which is a much needed... brightness, especially with Ryunosuke around.
"The Uesugi maintained a significant force of warrior monks, Cap," Ruka replied, with Takeru standing awkwardly behind her. "If I venture to guess, you'd face one of them."
"So there's no way to know except for the reputation that the warrior monks are known for," Shin muttered.
The warrior monks of the Uesugi — honed since the days of Uesugi Kenshin, also known as Bishamonten, "The God of War." These are monks who dedicated their lives to battle and only battle.
Most of the duels the White Tiger had him fight were against samurai who practiced other arts aside from the art of war. And these warrior monks also lack the overconfidence the samurai have. They would be calm, focused on the kill, not on how the kill is made. In a way, this would be Shin's first true challenge in this campaign.
Ruka then smiled widely, and Shin's confidence skyrocketed seeing the brightness on his subordinate's lips. "You'll absolutely win, Cap. You're the best sword this side of the continent."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Lieutenant."
Duels, what an old school notion in this modern world. Honor the old ways, they said. You'll win unimaginable glory, they said. Well, Shin may be getting some renown, but his salary remains the same, albeit with considerable bonuses with every duel won. Then again, there's something noble in meeting your opponent face to face rather than blasting them with artillery — also saves lives and money in rebuilding the castles.
"Nothing like having Lieutenant cutie's encouragement to get you going, ain't that right, Shin?" Ryunosuke clapped Shin hard on the back, pulling him from his thoughts.
"She told you she doesn't like your puns to her name, Ryu," Takeru commented dryly.
"Nor does she like you hitting on her, Sgt," Corporal Kagami Shouichi reappeared from the armory, carrying two blades — a katana and a wakizashi. They're sheathed in a scabbard painted midnight black, so is the hilt, with the tsuba being a coiled golden dragon.
"She never said that," Takeru snapped back urgently. He then turned to Ruka, "You never said that, didn't you, Ruka-chan?" he said, making an exaggerated show at pleading to the young Lieutenant.
Ruka shrugged, spinning her seat and typing back at her keyboard. "I may or I may not have," the girl teased with a mischievous grin. Well, he made her smirk, which still wasn't any confirmation.
"I'll take that as a no," Takeru grinned back.
Shou crossed the command tent and handed Shin's blades. The young captain received it with a word of gratitude and immediately strapped it on his waist. He turns to Ryu, kanabo still slung on his shoulders.
"Shall we?" Shin asked, the left side of his lips rising for a half smile.
Ryu grunted in affirmation.
"Good luck, taicho," Shou said with a snappy salute.
"He does not need it," Takeru responded with a confident smirk.
"I'll be waiting till you come back, Cap," Ruka called cheerfully without looking away from her monitors, though her voice dipped lower — a hint of concern, perhaps.
"If only you'll say that to me too, Ruka-chan," Takeru grumbled playfully, making the whole tent laugh.
Shin gave a soft sigh. His team was filled with confidence, then again, they weren't the ones facing a warrior monk in single combat. He doesn't know how he feels so far — tired, yes. But certainly not nervous, nor is he a hundred percent confident.
Without another word, he turns, adjusts the swords in his belt, and proceeds to leave the command tent with Sgt Takamura Ryunosuke in tow.
----------------
Shin and Ryu crested the hill overlooking the battlefield. Tents lined behind them, hidden from view in order to avoid artillery from locking in on their positions.
Ahead of them sat Echigo, the ancestral seat of the Uesugi clan and the training hub for Japan's warrior monks. The walls were set up in the traditional maze that is a Japanese castle.
Each breach point and courtyard was a killzone inviting death to any ground troops that dared to assault. The walls were lined with anti-aircraft guns, preventing aerial insertions and paradrops. The central keep stood almost fifteen floors high, each one a slaughterhouse, filled with traps that were probably there since the Warring States Era.
"That would be fun to infiltrate, wouldn't it, Shin," Ryu remarked.
"We both know you're not one for stealth, Ryu."
"I'm not. I'll just distract them while you sneak in and bring that keep down."
"Too bad I'm dueling today."
Ryu shrugged his shoulders, the kanabo making him look bigger than he already is, "Yeah. Too bad."
They made their way down the hill. Cherry blossoms are now slowly falling, or being carried by the wind, signaling the coming of summer. By the base of the hill was the White Tiger's command pavilion — and they made their way towards it.
Colonel Daigoro Shirotora sat at the head of his command table. He wore the modern army uniform of the Japanese army, the only difference was that his cap bore the sigil of the Shimazu clan, the clan they're both under for the time being. Also, draped upon his shoulder is a white tiger skin cloak — as if his name wasn't already an indication of his nickname.
"This doesn't seem like a safe place to set your command pavilion," Ryu whispered.
"It's not. Too exposed," Shin replied. "Shirotora's provoking them. And since an agreement to a duel has been set, honor demands the Uesugi not to fire. That's why the tiger lounged at the most exposed location in the field."
"He's pretty confident."
"Well, silver linings is, if I die, they can just fire on Shirotora immediately."
"Don't talk like that, taicho," Ryu lowered his voice. "I'd hate to change my commanding officer again. And besides, Ruka will kill us if you die there."
"See you in the afterlife then," Shin replied with a cool smirk as they finally reached the White Tiger's command tent.
"Colonel Daigoro," the pair saluted once they were about five meters away from the White Tiger.
"Ahhh. Our blade arrives," the White Tiger growls lazily. He stood, then faced the pair. Ryu was bigger, wider, but Shirotora was taller, with muscles that could rival Ryu. It makes Shin wonder why he wouldn't fight that duel himself with this physique of his.
"Shin," Shirotora drops flatly. "Another day for you to earn glory, my friend," he approaches Shin and wraps an arm around his shoulder.
They're not friends, Shin thought. Everything was professional, if one can call offering your best soldier in every duel to the death as friendly. It may not even be professional, was the White Tiger hoping he'll die on one of these duels or something.
"You see that?" Shirotora points at the castle. "Echigo, the last castle and our campaign is done. The ambitious and traitorous Uesugi clan will be defeated and assimilated in the Shimazu —"
"Why does the Shimazu want the Uesugi lands?" Shin asked. "And why does the Shogun approve of this?"
Shirotora grasped Shin's shoulder hard and Shin tried his hardest not to show any reaction despite the pain.
"What the higher ups want is of no concern of us. You are samurai and I am a gokenin. All we need to do is follow orders and we will be honored."
Bet punishing every one of five males by making them eunuchs is part of "following orders," — where's the honor in that, Shin thought. He kept his mouth shut however, Shirotora was right, he is samurai, and he lives to serve.
Then the metal gates of the castle slid open soundlessly, revealing a steel portcullis that was raised after the gate disappeared inside the walls. Looks like the Uesugi also took inspiration from European castles as well.
"Here comes... the sacrifice..." Shirotora whispered almost reverently when a warrior monk emerged from the gates. His face was covered, revealing only his eyes, as all monks were. He held a naginata behind him, a tachi was also tied at his waist. Other than that, Shin cannot see other possible weapons the monk may have on his person. He was followed by another monk bearing the banner of the Uesugi.
"Think you can water the earth with his blood, Shin?" Shirotora whispered with a maniacal, almost battle crazed tone.
Shin sighed, "Let's just get this over with."
Shin advanced, followed by Ryu who picked up a nearby Shimazu banner with one hand, and his kanabo still slung over his shoulder.
"Give us a show, Sanada Shinsuke!" Shirotora bellowed before sitting back down.
And to Shin's utter disappointment, he has to give him one.
Shin walked, the grass soft beneath his boots. He looked at the monk who walked with quiet confidence. Immediately, Shin noticed the difference from the other samurai — this monk walked with no hostility against him. The other samurai either hated him, treated him with contempt, underestimated him, or were afraid of him. But this monk — he's just here to fight to the death.
Then he heard a buzzing to his right. He glanced quickly to see a drone following their movements. So this fight is going to get live streamed too, huh.
A pit formed in Shin's stomach. Is this how Roman gladiators felt in ancient times — watched and cheered for the deadly entertainment they're about to provide? Well, the bloodthirsty and battle crazy ones probably lived off that chaos — but not Shin. If he can end this quickly, he will, no theatrics, just the honor of a quick death. He can only hope the monk he faces thinks the same.
Ryu finally halted and planted the banner deep through the ground. "May Susanoo guide your blade, taicho," he said, and Shin drew his katana in response.
The blade sang in the air as he held it to his side. Shin and the monk continued their advance until they were only about five meters from each other. They both bowed in respect and Shin asked, "May I have your name, noble monk?"
"You cannot, Captain Sanada Shinsuke," the monk replied. "We monks renounced our names once we took the Oath of Bishamonten."
Shin nodded in understanding. He took a deep breath, then felt shame as he was about to stain the fragrant late spring wind with the scent of blood — his or his opponent's, it does not matter.
Shin assumed his stance, one foot in front of the other, his katana held in front of him. The monk mirrored his stance with his naginata, his eyes bored into Shin, too still, too unwavering.
The drone's humming annoyed Shin, so he struggled to push that out of his head — and the monk struck first. Shin parried the jab with his katana. He side stepped, trying to pull his focus back to the fight and not on the drone's incessant humming.
He lowered his katana to bait the monk into thinking he was dropping his guard — and the monk's stance never shifted. Well, that was a good attempt, Shin thought as he raised his guard back up.
Slowly, he shuffled closer, keeping his eyes on the blade and the monk's shoulder. Steel met — and with a sudden burst of motion, he swiped the blade aside and lunged to get inside the monk's guard.
With almost equal speed, the monk stepped back, putting Shin in range for two quick jabs that made the swordsman retreat.
He's good, maybe the best Shin has faced so far — ironic that it is a nameless monk. He decided to get serious — Shin pulled his katana back, positioning it close to his face and parallel to his line of sight. He can see his reflection on the steel through his peripheral vision.
Seeing the shift, the monk adjusted, he held the blade close to his face, the butt end of the naginata now facing Shin.
Both fighters circled each other, waiting for the thread to eventually snap — and when it did, cheers were heard from the spectators within both Echigo castle and Shin's warcamp.
Shin lunged, slashing at the monk's side. He blocked with the naginata's shaft then thrust at the opening in Shin's guard.
Shin ducked, and the monk overextended. He slashed low, aiming for the monk's thigh — and his blade met steel as the monk raised a leg, blocking the strike with his greaves.
Shin cursed under his breath. He was almost certain he had him, or at least he had first blood.
They disengaged and reverted back to their previous stances. Cheers roared from both camps, and Shin cursed again at the thought of being made a spectacle.
Shin released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Then he took another deep breath and noticed the monk was doing the same.
He took six slow breaths, the same number of steps they both took as they circled each other — and Shin lunged. Instead of slashing, he thrust his katana. The monk swiped the blade aside with the shaft of his weapon, then he raised the butt end, hitting Shin on the nose.
Cheers erupted from the castle as Shin fell on his back on the soft grass. He smelled iron and felt warm blood running down his nose. Shin heaved. His nose clogged — blood, or broken, or both — neither of them good.
Sensing weakness, the monk pressed his advantage. The naginata twirled in his hands before he brought it down point first towards Shin's head.
Growling, Shin kicked the monk's leg, knocking him off balance onto one knee. He jerked to the side, the naginata missing by inches and planting itself on the ground.
He wrapped his sword arm around the shaft and kicked the monk’s chest. His opponent staggered back, Shin rose, letting go of his katana and pulling the naginata off the ground. The monk on the other hand, immediately drew his tachi.
And just like that, the reach advantage was flipped and it was Shin's camp who now shook the earth as they cheered.
Breathing through his nose was getting harder. He has to end this quickly or his stamina will be his undoing. Not being able to breathe properly in a fight slows a fighter down, not just his movements, but also his thought process.
But the monk is disciplined, even now, faced with a shorter weapon, Shin still couldn't find a clean opening he can exploit. Well, desperate times call for desperate measures, he thought. And only something unorthodox, something borderline crazy, would break this monk's discipline. Shin only needed a crack, and a crack he will make.
He glanced down at his katana. It would take too long if he drops down and picks up the blade, not if he wants what he's planning to work. This fight will be decided by his wakizashi then.
If only guns were allowed then this would have already been settled western style. Instead, the White Tiger wanted a freaking spectacle — and Shin was really itching to take that drone down after this fight's over.
Well, no use thinking about what could have been. Time to end this — Shin vowed.
He can feel his pulse drumming on his ear as he raised the naginata above his head and the monk positioned his tachi in a defensive position. This is stupid, this plan is stupid, but it's the only way Shin can think of to finish this duel.
So he acted —
— and he threw the naginata.
For the first time in the fight, the monk's eyes grew wide with surprise. He still had the discipline and skill to catch the weapon in mid air though.
Irrelevant, Shin's mind was racing as he drew the wakizashi from its scabbard. Even if he caught the naginata, it would make no difference.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Shin saw the naginata's wide arc as the monk swung it at him. He ducked, bypassing the weapon's reach. The monk swung the tachi in a reverse grip, and Shin catches his fist, controlling it before it lands.
The monk's eyes grew wider, realizing the end is near. Shin brings his wakizashi forward, straight towards the monk's neck.
A gurgle, and the monk goes down on his knees. He drops his weapons while looking straight at Shin's eyes — there was still no contempt, no hatred — only gratitude for a wonderful duel and an honorable death.
Shakily, Shin bowed his head subtly — and he could swear the monk's eyes smiled. Then it closed. Shin pulled his wakizashi. The monk collapses to the ground — and Shin's war camp cheered, yet the warrior heard nothing but silence.
--------------------
The march inside Echigo was quiet — or Shin was just not listening. He had fixed his broken nose, he still has difficulty breathing, but not as hard as when the naginata hit him.
He walked towards the central courtyard where one man knelt, dressed in white funeral robes, and a sheathed tanto in front of him. Uesugi Kagetatsu, the current head of the Uesugi family and Lord of Echigo.
It was peaceful, eerily so, a kind of quiet peace that was wrong. Cherry blossom petals fell like the tears of Uesugi's children as they cried, clutching their mothers. Their retainers, samurai, and warrior monks stood on vigil around the courtyard, some have tears in their eyes, others have hardened expressions on their faces.
Shin stood at a corridor near the courtyard when he was beckoned by a senior samurai. Major Bakura Daifuku, a grizzled old veteran with only two fingers left on his right hand — the thumb and the pinky to be exact.
Shin approached and Major Bakura handed him a pistol. "You know the rules, Shin," he said grimly. "You won this castle. Uesugi is dishonored as a traitor. If it were the old days, his head would be chopped off after he slits his stomach, but because of his status, he's even forbidden to have that dishonor."
"I know, sir," Shin replied. "I have to shoot him in the head instead of cutting it off," Shin took the firearm, a cold 9mm pistol. It should be light, but it felt heavy in his hands.
He looked at the old officer then towards Uesugi, who nodded. Shin nodded back and slowly made his way towards the disgraced daimyo's side.
"I have heard of your skill and honor, Sanada-taicho," Uesugi whispered. "I will die at peace knowing I fought for what I know was right."
"What did you fight for, Uesugi-dono? Truly?" Shin asked.
Uesugi smiled, "If I tell you, you'll say I'm a madman. Better that you discover it yourself."
Shin furrowed his brows in confusion. Before he can ask any further, Uesugi took the tanto and unsheathed it before positioning the point above his stomach.
Still confused, Shin lowered the pistol, aiming for the lord's temple when —
"Hold, Sanada-taicho!" The White Tiger's voice boomed as he marched towards the courtyard. Confusion was on every person's face as they watched the huge Colonel waltz like he now owns the place.
"What is the meaning of this?" Uesugi growled as Shirotora took his place in front of the kneeling lord.
"As Captain Sanada Shinsuke's commanding officer," Shirotora roared. "I exact the right to be Uesugi Kagetatsu's second as he commits seppuku! Sanada-taicho," he then extends an open palm towards Shin, "hand me the pistol."
Uesugi's face widened in alarm, so did his family and retainers who yelled at the outrage.
"No!" Uesugi yelled back, "I am still a daimyo! I reserve the right to choose my second and —!"
"You are disgraced and a traitor, Uesugi Kagetatsu. A dead man has no rights," Shirotora responded coldly.
"Now Sanada, the pistol," the White Tiger turns again towards Shin.
The disgraced daimyo also turns to Shin. "Please, don't do this, Sanada-taicho," he begged, "let me die with what little bit of honor I have left."
"Sanada-taicho," Shirotora repeats, colder and lower.
Shin hesitates, his hand shaking as he is caught with doing what he feels is right and what his body says is right to keep himself alive. His breathing quickens, faster than they were even during the duel. His hand gripped the pistol tightly — until a hand, rough, hard, unmerciful, covers his.
He felt his hand give way to the White Tiger's. His gaze went to Uesugi who was breathing as fast as him, yet his eyes remained understanding of Shin's predicament. He turns back to his retainers, then his family. "At least don't let my children see my death," he pleaded, one last request from a dead man.
Shirotora chuckled as he took Shin's place who returned shaking beside Major Bakura. "A disgraced lord has no authority over me, Uesugi Kagetatsu," and the White Tiger lowers the pistol.
The daimyo slowly breathes, resignation slowly creasing his face. He seemed to have aged years in just a span of minutes. Finally, he positioned the tanto again above his stomach. His children wailed, struggling to rush towards their father and were only held by his retainers.
With an audible grunt, Uesugi plunges the blade in his flesh, then moves it sideward, slitting his stomach as blood pooled beneath him — and Shirotora didn't fire.
He just watched Uesugi slowly bleed out with a satisfied grin.
Shin felt the blood in his body boil, his hand flew to the hilt of his katana. He would cut off Uesugi's head, give him an honorable exit, then if he can, he would slit the White Tiger's throat, then die either by gunfire, or by committing seppuku himself.
He pushed the tsuba with his thumb, releasing the blade slightly. He gripped the hilt and as he was about to draw, Major Bakura's hand wrapped firmly around his, stopping him from drawing the sword.
"Stay your blade, Shin," the Major whispered. "Or you'll follow Uesugi immediately."
"The bastard is making him suffer," Shin hissed, his grip on the scabbard grew tighter, turning his knuckles white.
Uesugi's body was slowly dropping as he gazed up at Shirotora with all the contempt and hatred his dying face can muster — and still, the bastard grinned with the pistol aimed at the lord's head.
"This is wrong, Bakura-senpai," Shin's hands were shaking violently, his jaw clenched tightly.
"His position makes him right, Shin," the old officer replied.
"But —"
Then the gunshot sounded, echoing across the courtyard. Shirotora shot the lord when he was about to drop dead, prolonging his agony and suffering until the very last second.
The White Tiger lowers the pistol, satisfaction etched in his face. Slowly, he retreated towards Shin's position. His smirk widens as he sees Shin's hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword and fixing him with a hateful gaze.
"Do not feel pity, Sanada. Don't feel rage at me as well," he said. "Honor must only be given to humans. And I only did what anyone would do when exterminating... vermin." He gives a sadistic smirk before holstering the pistol and walking away from the courtyard, seemingly oblivious to the resentful stares directed towards him — or he just does not care.
"Shin," Major Bakura whispered in concern.
"I want to be left alone, senpai," Shin muttered.
"Don't do anything stupid, Shin," Bakura tentatively loosens his grip on the young warrior.
Shin turned to look at the limp body of Uesugi Kagetatsu just as his family crowded around him, wailing and beating their own chests. "I already did something stupid. I won't add another one today," Shin said coldly, sheathing his katana and walking the opposite direction the White Tiger took.
------------------
The room was spacious, empty, just like Shin's thoughts. He refused to stay at the keep where the White Tiger decided to lodge for the night.
The bastard threw a banquet, apparently in celebration for the victory Shin won yet he took credit for. It was a good thing that it stormed, the rain and the thunder drowning the noise of the party and Shin's own "dishonorable" thoughts.
He sat on a chair by the window of the inn he and his team decided to rent out. The events of the day replayed in his mind. Only two lives were lost — each felt hollow, unnecessary even.
Then the door to his room beeps, and Shin's hand flies immediately to his katana by the table in front of him. Shirotora won't be as stupid as sending assassins against him tonight, would he?
The door opens and Lieutenant Kawai Ruka enters in a modest white shirt and shorts, holding what seemed like a keycard in her hand. It's too normal, she's too domestic, and it feels out of place — just the welcoming kind.
Shin tilts his head, more amused than confused. "Did you just... hack your way into my room, Lieutenant?" He asked as he let go of his grip on his sword.
Ruka closes the door and chuckles cheekily as the lock clicks. "Yep. It was so easy, it was boring."
"You did receive the order that I wanted to be left alone, right?"
"Yep," Ruka replied, her jolly tone and the adorableness of her actions were disarming Shin, making his frustrations fade slowly.
"And yet you're here."
"And yet I'm here," Ruka leans against the table right in front of her commanding officer.
"You know I can charge you for insubordination," Shin said, more teasing than threatening.
"You could but..." Ruka pursed her lips and hummed playfully. "That would mean you would lose your pretty tech specialist," Ruka's eyes narrowed at Shin mischievously, "you did say I was pretty this morning, right?"
Shin couldn't help but chuckle, "You're impossible, Kawai Ruka."
Ruka giggles briefly, the soft sound melting the last bits of heaviness in his chest. Then she looks at Shin for about two heartbeats.
"You look like you've been through shit, Cap," she quipped, grinning cheekily.
"And I feel like I've been through shit," Shin chuckled.
Ruka smiled softly, then transitioned back to her usual playfulness, "No you don't. You've never heard Sgt Takeru monologue about love, now that would make you feel like shit."
Shin laughed against the rain pattering down hard on the window. "That's what makes you feel like shit?"
"Hey. There's nothing more shitty than listening to someone nag about their nonexistent lovelife."
"You have a nonexistent lovelife."
"Yeah. But you never see me nag about it."
"Touchè, Lieutenant," Shin found himself laughing. He knew Ruka was a cheerful young woman, but right now, she may be exactly what he needs – someone who can make him smile and laugh.
"Can you just call me Ruka when we're off duty?" Ruka asked, a little bit of hesitation tinged in her voice.
"When are we ever off duty?" Shin smirked.
Ruka rolled her eyes, "Touchè, Cap, but... you know what I mean."
"I did call you Ruka —"
"Not Kawai Ruka, not Lieutenant. Just... Ruka."
There was a softness in her voice, something behind her request that Shin can't place. However, the girl looked adorable that he can't find himself rejecting her.
"Fine... Ruka..."
"Yes!" Ruka pumped her fist with glee.
"But only when we're off duty."
"Works for me, Cap! And... uhm, can I call you Shin while we're on the topic —"
"No."
"What?" Ruka's shoulders dropped. "But the Sergeants are calling you that and I outrank them!" The Lieutenant whined cutely, and Shin was tempted to say yes, but he had to preserve a level of authority and heirarchy.
"No, Ruka," Shin chuckled.
"Then put 'chan' every time you call me."
"What?"
"If I can't call you Shin, then call me Ruka-chan," the girl leaned with big sparkling eyes.
Shin fixed her with a stern but soft gaze, "No."
Ruka hissed as she leaned back, "Calling you Cap feels weird. It's like you're some superhero or some shit."
"Didn't you see me fight this morning?"
"Yeah. And your nose got busted, no superhero gets their nose busted."
"They do!" Shin snapped back, more indignant than he meant to be. He felt it was a little bit undignified for a captain but, Ruka's drawing that side of him effortlessly. "Heroes get beat up first before standing back up and winning."
"Heroes, Cap. Not superheroes," Ruka corrected, and Shin had no witty response to offer.
And a silence settles over the room as the laughter died down but the rain didn't.
"For what's it worth, Cap," Ruka began, "You were cool while you were fighting that monk."
The left side of Shin's lip raised into a playful smirk, "Is that admiration I hear in your voice, Ruka?"
"Shut up, Cap. I'm just being honest," Ruka retorted, her cheeks slowly sporting a reddish hue.
Then the teasing smirk returns, "But when you threw that naginata... I was like... that looked so stupid."
"What?! I swear that looked cool in my head."
"No, you didn't, Cap," Ruka said flatly while shaking her head with a blank expression.
"Yep, I didn't," Shin admitted with a soft chuckle, making Ruka snicker.
"I mean, you had the reach advantage, and you just... threw it away," Ruka made a throwing motion with her hand.
"I needed to end it quickly, I had a busted nose like you said."
Ruka suddenly leans in and cups Shin's face. Her eyes fixed on his nose. "Did Ryu fix your nose or someone else?" She asked, inspecting the bridge of Shin's nose.
"I did," Shin stuttered, the sudden physical contact and the proximity of Ruka's pretty face made his brain short circuit for a second.
"No wonder it looked fine. If it was Ryu, he probably would have botched it," Ruka said, seemingly oblivious at the reddening of Shin's neck as she kept checking his nose.
"Let go of my face... Lieutenant," Shin managed, and it seemed to make Ruka realize what she just did.
"Oh shit..." she withdrew immediately. "Sorry, Cap. Just... concerned," Ruka murmured bashfully, her cheeks turning the same shade of red as Shin's neck.
"It's fine... just..." both can't seem to make eye contact anymore, "don't do it again."
"Uh-huh..." Ruka replied awkwardly.
Shin looked at the floor while Ruka stared at the window as it's battered by the rain and wind. The occasional thunder however, did not mute the hammering that was beating in their chests.
"About Uesugi..." Ruka started cautiously.
"Ruka —" Shin's head snaps to look at the girl.
"He didn't deserve to die like that," Ruka spat with a conviction that shocked Shin. "Shirotora's a monster — worse than any yokai. He has no honor."
"Ruka, he's still our commanding —"
"Stop blaming yourself," Ruka said softly, shocking Shin for a second time and finally returning his gaze.
"I —"
"It hurts, seeing you like this," Ruka continued. "No one in that courtyard — not Uesugi Kagetatsu, not his household, not even anyone from our unit blames you. That was all the monster that is the White Tiger."
"I let the gun go, Ruka," Shin's hand clenched as if trying to remember the sensation of the gun in his hand, "I basically handed it to Shirotora."
"And if you didn't, I wouldn't be talking to you right now," Ruka whispered almost inaudibly.
Shin didn't trust himself with a response, he knows she’d counter him—and she’d be right.
"Don't die, Cap," Ruka continued with that still small voice that was almost drowned by the rain. "Don't die on us, on me."
Shin rose to his feet, his hands braced on the table on either side of her. "I won't. I —" then he caught himself. He was about to say he'll promise, but hesitated. He lives a soldier's life — a warrior's life, they already have one foot inside their graves — and they both know it.
Ruka huffed softly, then she loops her arms around Shin's neck. "Just, promise me you won't do anything stupid."
"I can't, Ruka."
"Cap —"
"— because I think I'm about to do something stupid right now."
Their eyes met, a silent conversation, an understanding. Ruka's eyes lower, to Shin's lips, lips she's been staring at every time he gives a briefing.
"Then do it," Ruka whispers bashfully. "I'll make an exemption just for tonight."
Their breaths hitched as the warmth touches their skin — and Shin leans in, capturing Ruka's lips in a soft kiss. Ruka pulled Shin closer as the rain kept falling, and neither of them pulled away.
Ruka pulls Shin closer by his neck, the captain's hands gripped her waist, squeezing tenderly and eliciting a soft whimper from the lieutenant. Ruka cupped his cheek, deepening the kiss, but keeping it delicate, almost fragile that they both refused to break it.
The girl's hands grew bolder, she gripped the collar of Shin's shirt, balling and crumpling them in one fist while the other goes down to stroke his chest.
She tasted sweet, Shin thought — and soft, like mochi, or dango. He always liked her, thought that her energy and her vibe brought something light to the grimness of his unit. She immediately softened Ryu, who was notoriously hard to gain his trust. She engages with Takeru, keeping a fun and professional rapport despite the sniper constantly trying to hit on her. She sides with Shouichi, their newbie, whenever the two Sergeants decide to make fun of the kid.
Strategically and tactically, she's been indespensable, saved their lives on more than one occasion. Once it was directing Ryu to a relatively safe escape route after a sabotage gone wrong — most of it was Ryu's fault though. She also knows where to position Takeru during both oversight and assassination missions where his marksmanship can be used most efficiently — and Takeru, a proud sniper himself, has learned to trust Ruka's judgment.
Shin on the other hand, had things lighter when Ruka was assigned to his unit. He rarely does all the planning now, trusting Ruka's intellect. He usually just adjusts things, noting on points Ruka may have missed not because she was not smart, but because of experience in the ground.
And now he's kissing her — or was she kissing him? No, they're kissing each other — and it feels good. Shin's head was empty before — like a cold, dark void. It is still empty now, except for the fact that he's drowining in the sensation of Ruka's lips, the faint fragrance of peach blossoms in her warm breath, and the feel of the soft flesh of her waist yielding to his softer touches.
Is he only going to kiss her for the night? No, he doesn't want that. He wants more. He wants her. He wants all of her. But does she want it too?
Ruka's body answered for Shin. Her legs wrapped around his waist and pulled her flush against her body. Her crotch slapped against her abdomen, making her whimper quietly. Her hands flew down to the hem of his shirt. Tentatively, Ruka slipped a hand in, feeling Shin's toned abdomen — as well as a few scars from all the fights and battles he fought.
Their lips still refused to part, until Ruka slowly pulls Shin's shirt up. They pull away, and the shirt falls to the floor uncermoniously. Ruka's gaze fell on his physique — toned, lean, muscled, and scarred — a fighter's. Her fingers traced his chest, noting small scars, then smilinng when she felt Shin shiver.
Her eyes met hers, her fingers still on his chest before moving towards the hem of her own shirt. She pulled up, her shirt joining hers on the floor and revealing small but supple breasts and cute nipples.
Shin stared, his hand awkwardly palmed the side of Ruka's waist. The girl chuckled, "Is it the first time you saw a girl's tits, Cap?" She teased.
Shin chuckled, "No, but... I think yours is the cutest."
If Ruka could go redder, she would have, she might have. She felt her cheeks grow hotter than she ever felt them before, "Stop saying things like that, it's embarassing — hnnngh." The girl winced, a hand grasping Shin's nape and raking at his hair while he takes a nipple in his mouth. He licked with soft circular motions that made Ruka's hips buck against his crotch.
Shin could feel the warmth of her arousal as Ruka moved her crotch against his growing hardness. Shin moves to the opposite breast and Ruka hisses in pleasure, her hand gripping a handful of Shin's hair tightly.
Ruka's other hand moves to stroke Shin's hard shaft. Shin groaned as he slowly kissed and licked his way up Ruka's chest, collar, and neck. The girl whined and whimpered, her body rolling and seeking more friction.
"Cap, I want you. Now... please," Ruka whispered once Shin reached her ear. Shin gave her ear one slow and quick stroke of his tongue, making the girl shudder underneath him.
Then he pulled away, his hands moving towards the hem of his shorts, Ruka mirrors her and simultaneously, they pulled the remaining articles of clothing off of their body. Now fully naked, Ruka spreads her legs on the table, giving Shin an unobstructed look of her cute and now swollen wetness.
Ruka on the other hand, stared at his shaft, hard, throbbing... big. She swallowed a lump in her throat in anticipation as Shin slowly line his tip outside her entrance.
"Slowly, Cap," Ruka's breath hitched as she stared at the throbbing head probing her wetness. Shin nodded, her body responded with micro-twitches every time Shin pushes slowly.
Shin felt Ruka's pussy stretch as it gripped his cock tightly when he tried to slowly thrust inside her. Ruka nuzzled her head on his shoulder, whimpering as she watched his length slowly disappear inside of her. Once Shin fully slid in, her head whipped back, a muffled moan escaping her closed lips as Shin pushed to brace himself on the desk.
She was tight, her pussy pulsating, gripping Shin's cock as if it doesn't want to let him go — and a part of Shin wanted to just stay sheathed inside of Ruka indefinitely. Yet, another part of him wanted more, and he can sense Ruka does as well, with how her hips move, changing the angle of his penetration ever so slightly.
"Ruka —" what Shin was about to say was drowned when Ruka pulled his head and crashed their lips in a kiss more urgent than the one they had first. Shin wrapped his arms around her waist to steady her. Ruka's hips wrapped once again around Shin, her heels digging against his butt, subtly urging him to move.
Shin's hips moved in a steady and rhythmic pace, just enough for both of them to feel pleasure but also to prolong the feeling as much as possible. The table creaked softly as Shin thrust inside Ruka, he can feel her slowly getting wetter, her kisses gradually getting sloppier, her breathing shaking erratically, and her whines slowly turning into moans.
She moves her head aside, resting her chin on Shin's collar. Her heels encourage him to go deeper, faster — and Shin responded in kind.
"I'm close, Cap..." Ruka whispered in Shin's ear.
"Me too. Where... Ruka?" Shin panted.
"Inside... please. I'm safe... just... I want to feel you... fill me up..."
Shin's pace and rhythm grew erratic, his sword moving across the table every time he thrusts inside Ruka. The girl on the other hand, kept her grip on his hair, her free hand scratched his back, not enough to scar but deep enough to leave marks.
"Ruka —" Shin moaned her name, and that was enough to shatter her.
Ruka gasped sharply, her nails scratchef deeper than she wanted, her head whipped back, and her walls pulsated. It gripped Shin's cock tightly, then loosened, and the cycle would continue in irregular intervals, all while copious amounts of Ruka's slick wrap around Shin's shaft.
Unable to hold any longer, Shin gave one long and hard thrust. He released his load as he groaned in her ear. Their cum mixed inside Ruka, and the girl shuddered, feeling his load fill her pussy.
They stayed there for a while, holding each other, breathing heavy but in sync, hips bucking occasionally, and with smiles of satisfaction on their faces.
"Stay with me tonight, Ruka," Shin blurted.
Ruka chuckled softly, "Is that appropriate, Cap?"
Shin leaned back to face her, both their faces flushed with content. "You say that now?"
Both of them laughed quietly as the sound of the rain registers again in their ears. "Touchè, Cap. Can I use the bathroom first?"
Shin nodded. They slowly separated from each other. Ruka picked her clothes then gave Shin one quick smiling glance before moving to the bathroom.
Shin chuckled in spite of himself. He slowly dressed up, letting the fact that he was just intimate with his subordinate and also just invited her to stay the night in his room. There was no such rule prohibiting such an act — yet it felt weird. Not bad weird, good weird — Shin was just worried whether things would become awkward moving forward.
He doesn't want that, especially when it comes to his squad. But knowing Ruka's easy going personality, he smiled thinking that he had nothing to worry about.
The bathroom door opened, and Ruka emerged, dressed once again and looking like nothing happened. She cheerfully jumps to the bed, pulls the sheets on tol of her, and extends her arms. "Come on in, Cap. I want to cuddle after sex."
Shin can only chuckle. Ruka seemed to have lowered all of her guard with him, it's only right to do the same, after all, they did just had sex.
Smiling to himself, Shin joined Ruka who slung an arm immediately around his chest and nuzzled her head by his shoulder.
"Are you feeling better now, Cap?" She asked softly.
"Mhmm," Shin hummed his reply. "Thanks to you."
He felt her smile and he kissed her forehead. "Anytime, Cap. Just... keep your promise."
"I'll try to..."
"Works for me," Ruka shifted, pressing herself closer to Shin's body before closing her eyes.
The rain faded to a slow drizzle when Shin likewise closed his eyes, yet the last images that came to his mind was the grateful eyes of the warrior monk, and the pleading eyes of Uesugi Kagetatsu before his mind succumbed to exhaustion.
-------------------
Shin stirred when he felt movement, not Ruka whose head now rested on his chest, but a hostile presence that was trying to hide itself. Scratch that, not presence — presences.
He wrapped his arm around Ruka's shoulder, moving it languidly so as to preserve the illusion that he's still asleep. Then he squeezed her shoulder's slowly in code, asking Ruka if she's awake.
Ruka's hand wrapped around his chest pressed on his side replied with soft squeezes of her own. She's awake and had also sensed the presence in the room.
Good — Shin thought. He then squeezed another message — "weapons under pillows", and Ruka nodded her head subtly in acknowledgment. They moved, slow, so as not to alert whoever it was inside the room that they are aware of their presence.
He heard one move towards the table, preventing him from rushing towards his katana. Carefully, his hand slipped under his pillow, searching until it wrapped around something cold, metal.
Shin cursed internally as he gripped the pistol. He would have preferred his wakizashi but it seems like it is the weapon underneath Ruka's pillow. Well, he just has to make do with this.
He felt someone lightly step on his side of the bed. He squeezed one last message on Ruka's shoulder, "on my signal."
Shin didn't bother to wait for a reply, his focus shifting towards the person creeping upon him. His heartbeat skyrocketed, if he doesn't time this right, both him and Ruka will lose the element of surprise and will be at a great disadvantage.
Ruka's breathing slowly sped up. He can feel his tech specialist trying to control it, and a tinge of regret filled him for inviting Ruka to sleep in his room. The best thing he can do for her now is to ensure she survives.
He counted four heartbeats when he heard the distinct click of a pistol's hammer being cocked. Judging by the distance, it is only an arm's length.
Shin moved.
He swung the pistol sideways while pushing Ruka off the bed. Shin hit the gun arm. The assailant fired it a second too late. The gun had a suppressor — Shin noted before firing his own pistol. A loud bang permeated the room and the intruder's head, covered with a black mask with only his eyes exposed, rocked back before falling limp on top of his body.
"Shinobi!" Ruka yelled hoping someone outside would hear. A gunshot and a shinobi warning — That should’ve been enough to scatter them. Apparently not this one.
Ruka unsheathes the wakizashi she drew from the pillow. She sliced a shinobi's wrist off before he could fire his gun. Ruka followed quickly with another slash directly to the shinobi's throat.
Shin scanned the room, noting seven shinobi. More were probably hiding in the shadows.
Recovering from the initial shock, the shinobi raised their pistols. Cursing, Shin leapt from the bed and pulled the man he just killed over him as a shield. On the opposite side, Ruka did the same.
Shin fired twice at the shinobi to his right — the one blocking him from the table where his katana was. The intruder falls before the rest fired. He felt the body he used as cover react lifelessly from the bullets riddling its body.
Shin glanced at Ruka, who returned her gaze. The usual glint in her eyes was now replaced by a grim determination to survive the night. They waited... waited until the gunshots died down. And when they did, Shin sprang to action.
Still using the dead body as a shield, he stood, and made his way sideways while firing over the shinobi's shoulder. He saw two fall down before he reached the table and grabbed his katana. Strength seemed to fill Shin's arm at the familiar feel of his blade's scabbard.
On the other side, Ruka rushed low while the shinobis reloaded. She slashed at their legs, before striking at their throats. She felled two—then four more emerged.
"Lieutenant Kawai!" Shin yelled and threw his pistol towards Ruka. He tossed the body to the nearest shinobi and drew his katana to slash off the enemy's arm before finishing him by cutting his head off.
He ducked before the body and head hit the floor. He moved low and quick to outpace the shinobi's shots. He cut across the right side of the room, slashing the guts of two more intruders while Ruka fought with his pistol and wakizashi on the other side.
A shinobi emerges from the bathroom behind Ruka while another draws a tanto and swings high. Ruka blocks in front, turns her body and fires a shot at the approaching enemy from behind. Its head rocks back and before the body landed, Ruka draws the pistol back, fires at the chest of the shinobi in front of her then tilts the pistol to shoot directly at its chin.
Shin gives a quick smile of pride as he finishes off the shinobis on his side of the room. Then he felt a blade sing in the air, he jerked his head back, barely avoiding a tanto swung by a shinobi — no, a kunoichi, judging by the more slender and lithe build. The only difference is that while the others wore black robes — this one wore crimson red.
The kunoichi didn't give Shin time to breathe. She pressed forward, wakizashi on one hand, tanto on the other — both held in a reverse grip.
Shin was at a disadvantage. The kunoichi had the reach advantage in the tighter space. She's quick as well, Shin barely has time to raise his katana to block, opting to dodge instead to make as much distance as possible.
The kunoichi spun, catching Shin off guard before he felt a foot strike his abdomen. He was pushed back with a grunt, then he felt the window pressed behind him, cold and still wet from the rain. The kunoichi advanced, behind her, Ruka dispatched the last of the shinobi with a wakizashi through the heart.
Looks like he needs to do something crazy to win another fight, Shin thought. He let the kunoichi advance, he parried a strike from her tanto then rushed in her guard. He used the kunoichi's forward momentum to tackle her with his shoulder.
The kunoichi staggered back. Shin caught her wrist and he bent it at an angle, forcing her to drop the tanto. Shin heard a muffled grunt before his opponent thrust with her wakizashi.
Shin parried it aside, reached for the kunoichi's other wrist and struck the katana to the flat of her blade with all the power he can muster. The steel rang—
— the shock ran through her grip—
— and the blade slipped free.
Shin immediately grabbed her shoulder and slammed her against the wall beside the window. He felt the impact as the kunoichi bounced off. He pressed her against it and leveled his katana to her throat, forcing the kunoichi to stay still. He then heard a gun being reloaded behind him. Shin dared a glance over his shoulder — Ruka cocked the pistol and aimed it at the kunoichi's head.
"You good?" Shin asked.
Ruka nodded twice. She was sweaty, her hair was plastered on her forehead, her white clothes were now splattered with blood, not hers thankfully. Shin inspected her from the distance and was relieved to see no visible injuries.
Shin returned his gaze at the kunoichi. She was breathing rapidly, arms raised in surrender. Shin closed in and removed the red scarf that served as her mask. He was greeted by a beautiful face, smug and confident even after defeat, as if she knew she would still leave this room alive.
"The Crimson Blade," Shin remarked, recognizing the kunoichi. "Enami Asa of Iga." Ruka glances at Shin at the mention of the kunoichi's name.
"Hattori Hanzo sends his regards, Sanada Shinsuke... or should I say... the Black Dragon. I have to say, Sanada-taicho, you're the first target I failed to kill." Asa smiled, looking at his blade, a black katana with a coiled dragon as a tsuba.
"Hattori Hanzo," Shin echoed. "Is this the 151st or the 152nd to assume the name?" Shin sked mockingly.
"Hundred and fifty third," Asa replied, still not losing that sultry grin and confident gaze.
"Why did he send you after me?" Shin asked.
"Beats me," Asa replied with a shrug of her shoulders.
She knows, Shin deduced. But there's no use forcing it out of her. Whatever she shares, she shares deliberately.
"Let's cut to the chase, Enami. What can you say?"
Asa giggled, "What can I say, huh. First... you passed the test."
"Test?!" Ruka spat.
Another giggle escaped the kunoichi's mouth. "Hey there, Ruka-nee chan," Asa greeted playfully and casually.
"Nee-chan?" Ruka whispered, momentarily disarmed.
"Didn't expect you can fight like that, thought you were just a tech specialist."
"Stop stalling, Enami," Shin pressed the blade tighter against her throat. Asa just chuckles as he did so.
"Well, Hanzo-sama is expecting something to go down soon. Something that probably involves you and the growing fame you're accumulating. You see, spies in the court report that some gokenin feel threatened by your meteoric rise'." Her voice was tinged with what seemed like grudging respect.
"Why tell me this?"
"Because you were prepared to give Uesugi Kagetatsu an honorable death. More than he deserved probably, but it showed your heart and the kind of man you are. And Hanzo-sama respects you for that," Asa said, shifting from playfully cheerful to almost deadly serious.
"That still does not answer my question."
Asa sighed, "Hanzo-sama hopes that... you would consider continuing the fight Uesugi Kagetatsu fought for."
"I don't even know what he was fighting for."
"You will, in time. The jealousy of the gokenin pretty much sealed that fate. What's next is how you respond to it, whether you break, you bend, or you make them break and bend."
"You damn shinobi and your riddles," Ruka spat to the side while adjusting the pistol in her grip.
"What makes you think I'll join you rebels?" Shin followed.
"Because you were prepared to kill Daigoro Shirotora when he did what he did to Uesugi Kagetatsu... and you were also prepared to die for it," Asa replied, her playful gaze replaced by a resolute stare.
"If you wanted Sanada-taicho to join your cause, why send shinobi to kill him?" Ruka asked.
Asa gave another chuckle, "because if he dies with just that, then he's not worthy of the gokenin's attention."
Shin scoffed, "You knew I can beat you. You expected this outcome."
"Without the element of surprise, yes," Asa admitted. "Still, it never hurts to try," she shrugged her shoulders.
Shin exhaled sharply. The shinobi of Iga were known as ruthless, choosing to die rather than fail an assassination. But this was not one — as the Crimson Blade said, this was a test.
"What should we do with her, Cap?" Ruka asked.
Shin stole a glance at Ruka. What he was about to say and do could ruin both their careers, possibly even cost them their lives. "Are you with me no matter my decision, Lieutenant Kawai?"
Confusion flashed on Ruka's eyes. She was smart enough to know what he's thinking and she showed that she was disgusted of the White Tiger. Still, that doesn’t mean she’ll risk her neck for what Shin is about to do.
"If I say no, you'll kill me where I stand," Ruka said, and it was not a question.
"No," Shin replied, then jerked his head towards Asa, "the Crimson Blade will."
Ruka sighed and lowered her pistol. "I'm with you, Sanada-taicho."
"Thank you," Shin said then lowered his katana. Asa's grin grew wider, her eyes never leaving Shin.
"What does Hattori Hanzo expect will happen next?"
"Well," Asa began. "The White Tiger's army will go back to Osaka considering Echigo is the last objective of this campaign. Then you'll be presented to the hatamoto, maybe even the shogun, to award you with military honors blah blah blah. After that, we still don't know what they plan to do. They can't kill you though, you can be sure of that, you're too famous for that already."
"I guess you'll make contact again at Osaka?"
Asa nodded, "the shinobi in the city will."
"Will you be there?" Ruka asked.
"Maybe... maybe not..."
"Damn non answers," Ruka muttered.
Just then, a banging was heard on my door.
"Taicho!" Ryu's voice boomed from outside. "We heard gunshots! Are you okay?!"
Ruka glances at the door then back to Shin.
"Well, that's my exit cue," Asa chirped. "See you at Osaka... or maybe not."
She smashed her elbow against the window, breaking it before she leapt, disappearing in the dark.
"The Crimson Blade," Ruka muttered. "And the shinobi of Iga. Uesugi. Hattori Hanzo. What the hell did we get ourselves into?"
"I guess we'll know more at Osaka," Shin replied.
Then the door beeped and opened, and in came the rest of Shin's squad. Ryu, bare chested and holding a shotgun, while Takeru and Shou were weilding their own sidearms.
Their eyes widened as they saw the carnage. Fourteen shinobi dead, the room thrashed, and a blood stained and exhausted Sanada Shinsuke and Kawai Ruka.
"Missed the party, boys," Shin greeted.
"Shinobi?!" Ryu growled.
"From Iga," Takeru replied calmly as he knelt and inspected one body.
"Hattori Hanzo?!" Shouichi asked in alarm.
"No," Ruka shook her head. "Enami Asa."
All three snapped their heads and exclaimed simultaneously, "the Crimson Blade?!"
Ruka and Shin just nodded.
"Must be really one hell of a party," Takeru chuckled as they heard more voices coming outside.
"I wouldn't want to be in that party," Shou muttered.
Shin and Ruka shared a glance, a quick exchange and a silent conversation. Then Shin turned towards the broken window, "Yeah. One hell of a party indeed," he said quietly, thinking about the "party" that he now expects to happen at Osaka.
"Did you both shower together?" Ryujin asked, leaning her head over our desk in the lecture room.
"Uhm..." I stuttered to come up with a reply.
"You smell like Jimin's soap, Seren," Yeji added, spinning her seat around to look up at us on the upper row.
"Because it is my soap," Jimin said confidently, making Ryujin and Yeji share a look of amusement.
"How about Chaeryoung?" Ryujin asked, snapping her head back at Jimin and I.
"Don't start, Shin Ryujin," Lee Chaeryoung chimed beside Yeji.
"What? I'm not starting anything, I'm asking questions," Ryujin protested.
"That's you starting something, you big black cat," I quipped back.
"Meh," Ryujin dismisses. "So are both of you like, openly dating now?"
Jimin and I shared a look, ever since last night, things have been a lot clearer. Although there were still some reservations in my part, in the end, Jimin dismantled every argument I had. Things are lighter now, at least, not the same as before but... close.
"It's a little bit more complicated than that," Jimin replied but with a smile on her face.
"So, private but not secret?" Ryujin probed.
"No, not really," I replied.
"Open relationship?" Ryujin followed, squinting one of her eyes.
Jimin and I considered the term. "Not exactly but... That's probably as close as you can get," Jimin answered.
"Ooh, so Chaeryoung and you can still play around," Ryujin commented.
"Shin Ryujin," Chaeryoung called wearily.
"Can I still play around with you, Seren?" Ryujin leaned in and whispered. Jimin gave an amused laugh as Yeji rolled her eyes.
"And there you go," Yeji comments in a tone as exhausted as Chaeryoung's. She took Ryujin by her jacket and pulled her down to her seat.
"But seriously," Ryujin grinned in her seat, pushing it forward so she can see Chaeryoung over Yeji. "Are you good with this, Chaery?"
Chaeryoung raised her head and nodded. "Seren and I had talked about this, so did Jimin and I. We're cool."
Chaeryoung lifted her gaze towards us and Jimin mouthed a small "thank you."
"Huh," Ryujin huffed. "Boring," she spun her chair and proceeded to terrorize Yeji about training me next Saturday.
I leaned closer to Jimin, "When did you talk to Chaeryoung?"
"A week ago, then on Saturday night — after your training with the werebeasts," she replied.
"So you knew she trained me?"
"No. I didn't ask that of her."
"What did you ask her then?"
Jimin turned to me with a playful smile, "That stays between us, girl stuff."
I rolled my eyes, knowing that I won't get anything out of her.
Then Ryujin got up, her shoulder tense and rigid. Yeji slowly stood up with her, "Hey. What's up? Sense something?"
Chaeryoung pushed her chair back, ready for any eventuality. My hand moved to hold Jimin as Ryujin’s head slowly turned towards the direction of the campus gates.
The class tenses as well, they know Ryujin is a werebeast and her strange behavior was slowly drawing attention. Students looked warily at each other while some were slowly packing their bags — and nobody spoke a word.
Then the alarms in my own mind blared. Wild Instinct — and unlike yesterday when it didn't send danger signs with Jiwon — this one was screaming "get the fuck out of this place."
I rose up abruptly, Ryujin and I made eye contact, and one word left our lips — "Run."
And the school's alarms blared to life – and the room shook like a shockwave hit it.
Screams from the other students filled the hall as they rushed to the doors. I took Jimin's hand and weaved our way towards the rear door of the lecture room. Ryujin surged ahead of us, clearing the way, Yeji positions herself behind us while Chaeryoung helps to calm down some panicking students.
We opened the door and rushed outside just in time for a large chunk of rock to be flung towards the hallway's windows.
"Get down!" Ryujin yelled, pulling Jimin and I down. Then the rock shattered with a deafening crunch in mid air before hitting the campus building. A faint cracking shimmer reflected the light where the rock was reduced to pieces.
"Aeri's barrier," Yeji remarked. "That sorceress is powerful alright." As Yeji said that, the shimmering cracks on the barrier faded, as if slowly repairing itself.
All around campus, rocks and huge logs were being hurled, like the college was under siege. In the hallways, students panicked and professors were struggling to keep them in order.
Yeji took our lead, herding us towards the stairs amidst the panic before she stopped, her eyes fixed on the field outside.
"Why did you stop, Yeji?" Chaeryoung asked as she brought our rear.
The huntress pointed towards the field, and I followed the direction she pointed. A platoon of about thirty Riders of the Hunt were marching from the campus's main gate — and meeting them were three figures, three women, three sorceresses — Uchinaga Aeri, Hong Eunchae, and Kim Chaewon.
"Are we just going to watch them?" Jimin asked.
"I've been dying to see them in action," Ryujin commented.
"We're not helping them?" I asked.
"Not unless they need it," Yeji replied.
"The other students are stopping to watch as well," Chaeryoung observed.
And she was right, the panic has settled into a state of tense curiosity. This is the time the sorceresses prove their worth, Princess Wonyoung brought them here to defend the campus from the Wild Hunt — and the college is ready to either praise them or judge them.
The two sides were now about ten feet from each other. They seem to be talking, but at this distance, I can't hear what they're saying.
The lead Rider advances, the only one with an antlered helm while the others wore a uniform armor of bark, a cloak made of vines and leaves, and spears with green runes on their leaf shaped blades. Uchinaga Aeri stepped up to meet him — and for all our differences, to walk fearlessly to a Captain of the Hunt — Uchinaga Aeri had my respect for that.
The sorceress and the Rider talked, but my eyes were on Chaewon. Heat waves radiated from her body, smoke was coming out from her hands. She stood defiant, not just because this is her job, but because her sister, Minjeong, is also somewhere within the school watching her. She has someone to protect in this school, and that makes her a lot more dangerous.
"Anytime now," Ryujin whispered, fidgeting in place like she wants to jump in the battle — and knowing her, she probably does.
I counted my heartbeats — one, two, three, four, five, six, then I exhaled — and the thread snapped.
The Lead Rider swiftly drew his blade — a battleaxe, Aeri hastily sets a barrier. The blade struck — the barrier shattered, launching Aeri off her feet. Eunchae waves her hand and Aeri disappears, appearing again by the spatial sorceress's feet. And Chaewon brought down hell with her — with an audible scream, a burst of flame with the sound of a flamethrower dialed to eleven emerged from her hands, incinerating the entire right flank of the Riders.
Cheers erupted from the student body as the Riders were herded helplessly to their left. Eunchae assumed a low stance and extended her arms forward — Riders disappeared, only to be teleported at the blaze that Chaewon has summoned.
Trapped between a literal inferno and a portal that leads them to it, the remaining twelve Riders and their Leader stared down at Aeri — and with a snap of her fingers, the Riders were enclosed within a cube shaped barrier. Chaewon stopped the flames and Eunchae relaxed. Charred remains of Riders littered the ground, their leaf cloaks still burning faintly.
Chaewon approached the barrier and placed her hand on its surface. The Riders, sensing the sorceress's intent began banging on the walls, trying desperately to break them.
"This is brutal," Ryujin commented beside me with a grin.
Chaewon and Aeri shared a glance, with Aeri nodding half a heartbeat later. The college watched with bated breath as Chaewon's hand slipped through Aeri's barrier. The Lead Rider glared at the barrier sorceress from inside their cage. Uchinaga Aeri nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders — and her barrier was engulfed with Chaewon's flames, cooking everyone inside alive.
The screams of the Riders were drowned as campus shook, erupting in another round of cheers. Our group was quiet however, eyes fixed on the power the three sorceresses had just displayed. Jimin held my hand a little tighter, the other covered her mouth. They were brutally efficient — makes me wonder who the real monsters are.
"Well, that was quick," Ryujin remarks, almost disappointed.
"And too easy," Chaeryoung adds.
"Why were they here though?" Jimin asked. "For you?" She added, whispering at me so only our posse can hear.
"I don't know," I replied. "But we know it's only a matter of time until they retaliate after Yuna's rescue."
Then something clicked at the mention of Yuna. Ryujin and I looked at each other. We realized that our instincts were still firing — this morning still isn't over.
"This is a diversion," I said.
"They're not here for you," Ryujin replied coldly.
Yeji, Chaeryoung, and Jimin looked at us with eyes wide, realization dawning on them as mine and Ryujin's Wild Instincts pieced this puzzle together.
"They're after Yuna," Ryujin and I said simultaneously.
Yeji immediately grabbed Chaeryoung by her sleeve, "Can you track her?"
"Yes," came Chaeryoung's confident reply.
"I'm coming with you," I declared.
Yeji placed a hand on my chest, "Seren." She fixed me with a gaze that was clearly saying no. "You do realize this could also be a ploy to draw you out in the open."
"I won't take no for an answer," I said defiantly.
"And Jimin?" Yeji countered.
"The campus is safe," Jimin replied. "They have the sorceresses tied up, it's unlikely they'll strike again."
"She's right, Yeji," Chaeryoung whispered. "And I have Yuna's scent. We should go, now."
It took Yeji three breaths to speak again, "Alright fine." She nodded towards Chaeryoung, "lead the way."
Jimin and I pulled each other for a quick kiss. "Come back to me," she whispered after we pulled away.
"I will." I turned and followed the huntresses, heading the opposite way that the student body is walking.
--------------
We marched outside the campus, vaulting the back wall towards the city. The city noise rushed in the moment we cleared the wall—horns, voices, life continuing like nothing was wrong. Sirens slowly closed in from a distance, human police, responding towards the college.
Chaeryoung led us with a brisk pace into a wide, open park. It was empty — not even stray dogs were in sight, nor could I hear birds — strange for a park in the middle of the city.
"Yuna must have realized they're after her," Yeji deduced.
"Or she just bolted immediately," Ryujin added.
"Perhaps, but we still should make sure that she's safe," I said.
"This is the second time we're rescuing her," Ryujin commented.
"Any objections?" I asked.
Ryujin shrugged, "As long as it leads to a fight, I'm down."
"I thought so," I chuckled.
"But she better not make a habit out of this," Yeji remarked. "Our mission is protecting you, Seren. Not going after damsels in distress."
I turned towards Chaeryoung, "is Sullyoon with her?"
"Yes, I can smell her as well," the huntress replied.
Good — I thought. At least they'll have a chance to stall if the worst case scenario happens. I just hope we'll catch up to them in time.
"Good for you," Yeji muttered. "All I can still smell is the burning carcasses of those riders."
"I wouldn't want to be in the receiving end of your first love's power, Seren," Ryujin teased.
"Shut up, Shin Ryujin. Neither do I."
"That was so efficient it seems rehearsed," Chaeryoung commented.
"They may still be apprentices but their synergy is good," Yeji replied. "They feed off of each other — and they know their roles within their squad well."
"Are we just glancing over the fact that they made a literal Wild Hunt oven for the whole college to see?" I asked.
Yeji shrugged, "That is combat, Seren. All is fair in love and war as they say. And if you could end a battle as efficiently as that, wouldn't you do it?"
What I can't say though, is that I'm terrified for my friends. What if we clash with the sorceresses? I doubt it would be that much of a fight, especially with Eunchae controlling the battlefield.
I shook the thought out of my head — we'll get there when we get there, for now, we focus on Yuna and Sullyoon. We pushed forward until we arrived at a clearing. The park stretched open and exposed, trees swaying like they were trying to warn us.
"I don't like this," Chaeryoung whispered. "It's too open."
"Should I call for reinforcements?" I asked Yeji who eyed me curiously.
"How?"
I drew the wooden dagger I made during Yuna's rescue and placed its blade atop my palm. "Death Dealers," I replied.
Yeji placed a hand over mine, "Keep it as a contingency," she whispered.
I nodded and held the blade in a reverse grip.
"Where to now?" Ryujin asked Chaeryoung.
"Straight ahead," Chaeryoung pointed into the wide expanse of grass, dotted only by the occasional bush or shrub.
"Are you sure? It's too still," I observed. "No movement. Even the wind seems to be... frozen."
"Only one way to find out," Ryujin barrels through Chaeryoung and I and walks towards the empty expanse.
"Hey. Get back here, Shin Ryujin," I whispered urgently.
"After her," Yeji ordered as she followed Ryujin's steps.
Chaeryoung and I shared a glance, and the huntress shrugged her shoulders.
I clicked my tongue and followed after Ryujin and Yeji, with Chaeryoung bringing up our rear. It was when we were a good ten meters away that I noticed that faint glimmer on the air, like thousands of tiny particles forming a wall. It seems strange because the wind was not carrying it at all, it was just... hanging in the air, unmoving.
Before I could warn Ryujin — who was walking towards it without a care in the world... the werebeast disappeared.
Yeji ran, followed by Chaeryoung and I, with Chaeryoung outpacing me almost immediately.
"Yeji be careful!" I yelled. "There's some kind of wall —" and we burst through it
I coughed as dust sprayed all over my body. "Damn it, what the hell is this stuff!"
"You should know, Seren," Yeji replied, her tone low and dangerous.
"It's faerie dust," Chaeryoung confirmed, dusting some off of my shirt. "It's all over the field."
"Why would there be —?" I began to ask.
"To hide a battle," Yeji answered before I could finish my question.
"What battle?" I asked, brushing dust off my pants.
"That battle," Ryujin pointed.
I raised my head and saw carnage.
"This is going to get messy," Chaeryoung remarked.
The Wild Hunt was there, at least fifty of them. Opposing them were other fae and some dryads, I count about thirteen, behind them was Sullyoon and Yuna, trapped against a row of hedges as the Hunt assault them head on.
They fought, with bows and arrows and whatever they could muster against the Riders — but they're outnumbered, and outmatched as the Riders advanced slowly but surely. Orders were shouted, swallowed almost instantly by the chaos. A fae lady rose, drawing her bow, only to be impaled by a spear before she can even release the arrow. On the other side, a Rider goes down, dragged to the earth by roots and vines.
"We should've called for reinforcements," Yeji said pointing at the back of the Wild Hunt's line.
Two enchantresses floated, no doubt maintaining the wall of faerie dust in the perimeter, but what caught my attention was the one right in the middle of them. Huge, even for Riders of the Hunt, carrying a great axe etched with runes and wearing a stag's skull as his helm. Durzan — one of the Glade Lords during Yuna's rescue op was in the field.
"About that reinforcements," I turned to Yeji.
The huntress hissed, "I don't like asking vampires for help but..." she looked at me and nodded.
I turned the dagger in my hand and sliced my palm, drawing blood. I winced as it welled across my palm, dripping down the grass below. I recalled Joohyun's words that if ever I'm in danger, I only need to draw blood and her Death Dealers will answer.
"So what's the plan?" I asked.
Chaeryoung silently took out her handkerchief, grabbed my bleeding palm and tenderly wrapped the piece of cloth around it. I gave her a silent nod of thanks.
"We hit them," Ryujin replied.
"Hit them where?"
Ryujin pointed at Durzan, "the head of the snake."
"Are you crazy?" I asked incredulously. "That guy fought Joohyun and survived."
"Seren's right," Yeji butted in. "We can't just barge in this fight. And we certainly can't take a Glade Lord on our own."
"We hit the flanks?" Chaeryoung offered, letting go of my hand when she finished tying the handkerchief tight.
"That could cause enough confusion for Yuna and her group to disengage and flee," Yeji agreed.
"But —" Ryujin argued but was immediately shut down by Yeji.
"Our objective here is not to kill as many Riders or take down a Glade Lord. We are here to ensure Yuna and Sullyoon's safety, everything we do will be anchored around that."
Ryujin growled but otherwise didn't object any further.
"Flanks it is then?" I asked.
"Yeah," Yeji confirmed. "But we sneak in as close as possible to cause as much confusion as we can."
We all nodded.
"Stay low, wait for my signal."
We hit the grass, and started crawling towards the battlefield. The battle stalled in front of us. The dryads created walls of briars and thorns to slow the Riders down, making them vulnerable to arrow fire. I reached down the earth with my consciousness as we crawled and felt only chaos. The earth raged at the desecrators that is the Wild Hunt, it gladly provided assistance to the dryads of Yuna's group, but they're far too few to make an actual difference.
I searched for Sullyoon as we edged closer to the Hunt's right flank. A flicker of surprise washed over me as I brushed on her consciousness. She let me in and I was immediately hammered by how fast her heart was beating.
"Seren?" she said in my mind. "What are you doing here?!"
"Helping you, we realized the attack on campus was a diversion..."
"But —"
"Just shut up and tell us how we can help, Seol YoonAh," I felt her recoil at the mention of her full name. "What's your status?"
"Uhhh," I felt Sullyoon's head turn to assess their side of the field. "Only ten of us left —" another dryad falls under a Rider's spear, "make that nine. We can't hold out much longer."
"Alright, when the chaos starts, you make a run for it, okay?"
"Okay."
"Don't break this connection. Stay with me."
"And you with me."
I held Yeji's hand beside me. We are only about thirty meters away, at our full speed we can break through them in about a second and a half. Yeji turned towards me, "They're not gonna last much longer," I whispered.
"Damn it," Yeji hissed. "Go, charge!"
Ryujin rose immediately, morphing into her big black cat form and snarling with excitement. She was followed by Chaeryoung and Yeji, each morphing as they charged. I sprinted, dagger in hand, and together with the huntresses, we slammed against the Wild Hunt's right flank, driving through like a wedge.
I slammed my dagger into the heart of the first Rider, the momentum brought both of us down to the ground. I withdrew my dagger then took the Rider's spear. I slashed in a wide arc, wincing as the shaft dug into the cloth wrapped around my palm. A Rider stopped to avoid my slash, allowing me the time to thrust the spear straight into his neck.
Then, Durzan's rough voice bellowed across the field, "Kill the werebeasts! But keep the boy alive!"
I felt the Riders shift through my connection with the earth. Their attention moving towards the werebeasts and me.
"Run for it, YoonAh!" I screamed in my head while I slipped the dagger back at my hip. I felt her nod as she ordered her companions and Yuna to scramble and flee.
That momentary lapse in concentration cost me though. I felt a whoosh in the air and I instinctively raised the spear, blocking a high swing from Durzan's greataxe with the shaft of the spear. Then I felt his fist in my gut, taking the breath out of my lungs and flinging me a few meters off the ground. I rolled on the grass, coughing as I tried to catch my breath.
"That's for the punch you gave me last time, puny human," Durzan chuckled sinisterly.
Shit — one on one with a Glade Lord. How the hell can I survive this? I scanned the field, Yuna, Sullyoon, and their group were running away, pursued only by about ten Riders. The werebeasts were being pushed back, Ryujin was fending off three Riders at once, Yeji had her jaws on the neck of another, while Chaeryoung skirted the sides, trying to find an opportunity to rejoin the fight.
I rose, using the spear as support. The earth pushed me up as I assumed the stance Soyeon taught me, feet spread, hips low, and tip of the weapon aimed directly at my target — so I raised my spear, pointing directly between Durzan's eyes.
Durzan chuckled in amusement, "You're not on the level of the Pale Princess, Vale. I can swat you easily like the pest you are."
I scoffed, trying to put up a defiant front, "Why don't you put your money where your mouth is, Pea-brain," I taunted — which was a terrible idea if you're in front of a Glade Lord.
Durzan roared and raised his greataxe and I braced for a blow that would surely break through my defense.
Then a flash of red rushes past me — so fast that it blew the air as it passed. A glaive then intercepts Durzan's axe, the force of the clash staggered me a couple of steps back.
I looked at the figure who stepped in front of me. My first thought was Joohyun — but this one was taller and wearing a red cloak.
"Saerom!" I yelled as I recognized the Captain of Joohyun's Death Dealers.
"Lee Saerom!" Durzan bellowed as he raised his axe again and Saerom backstepped, making the blow miss.
Saerom stood beside me, "Sorry we're late. That wall of faerie dust had us confused for a few moments."
Then two screams ruptured the air behind us. I turned and the two enchantresses fell to the ground, Chaeyoung and Soyeon standing above each of them, red crescent daggers in their hands. Chaeyoung gave me a quick wink before they joined the battle, aiming to aid the beleaguered huntresses.
"Durzan's mine," Saerom said. "Go help the others."
"You think you stand a chance, Death Dealer?" Durzan chuckled.
Saerom shrugged, "My Princess held off two of you with no problems, I think I can dance with you one-on-one."
"You sure you'll be fine?" I asked Saerom.
"I always wanted to dance with a Glade Lord," she replied. "Go, Seren. You're needed elsewhere."
I nodded, giving her a quick tap on the shoulder. I scanned the field again, Chaeyoung has relieved Ryujin and they're now retreating slowly. So is Soyeon and Yeji, with the huntress engaging while the Death Dealer shoots with her handbow. That leaves Chaeryoung — I can't see her, so I searched for her through the earth.
I sensed her right where Yuna and Sullyoon were last pinned. She's facing five Riders, each jabbing their spears at her while she tried to maneuver out of the way.
I growled, and immediately made my way to aid her. I took another spear from a fallen Rider and once Chaeryoung was in sight, I threw the spear with all my might, impaling the rightmost Rider in the back. Surprised, the Riders turned, allowing Chaeryoung to pounce on the Rider on the left end.
Two Riders met me, the first one thrust his own spear. I side stepped, brought my spear in a high arc, the Rider braced, and Soyeon's words echoed in my head — "Lesson one, sometimes it's not about power." My swing was fast, but soft, disarming the Rider who was expecting a heavy blow. His spear lowered as mine pushed it down almost effortlessly, and when his chest was exposed, I thrust in, feeling bones crack against the blade.
The second rider was on me before I could disengage. I was forced to release the spear to avoid his strike. He thrust again, I ducked and slip inside his guard, I drew the dagger from my back and slashed at his thigh, staggering him. He stepped back to reposition, but before he could lunge again, Chaeryoung pounced on his back, sinking her fangs on his neck. The Rider tried to knock her off and I took the opportunity — I stepped in and drove the dagger into his liver. The Rider struggled once weakly, then crumpled under mine and Chaeryoung's combined weight.
Chaeryoung and I disengaged, five dead Riders by our feet. I reached back down to the earth, searching for Sullyoon. Then a brush, an acknowledgement that we're still connected.
"Seren!" Sullyoon yelled in my head, her heartbeat was slower, yet still fast.
"Are you alright, YoonAh?"
"Yeah. We're right by an entrance to the Lady of Spring's realm. We shook the Riders off, Yuna and I are just waiting to know if you're safe."
I felt Sullyoon hesitate for three quick heartbeats, "Alright. See you back at campus. Thank you. Yuna says the same as well."
"Yeah. See you too."
And the connection was severed.
I turned to Chaeryoung who was staring at me expectantly. "They're safe."
Chaeryoung nodded. Before I could scan the field again though, sirens blared at the distance — human police.
"Shit," I exclaimed, "the Death Dealers killed the enchantresses. It must've released the dust surrounding the field. We're visible."
Chaeryoung snarled and looked back at the field. The fighting has stopped as the combatants heard the sirens. They slowly retreated to their own sides and we rejoined our comrades. Saerom's glaive was split in half but she still eyed Durzan with a cold gaze.
"This isn't over, Vale," Durzan pointed with his greataxe, grinning wickedly and unscathed. "We'll have you and that traitorous enchantress. Nobody escapes the grip of Lord Orion." And they slowly retreated, making for a large oak tree that I swear wasn't there when the fight began.
"We need to make ourselves scarce as well," Saerom said.
"We'll meet later to talk about this," I responded.
Saerom nodded and she and Chaeyoung dissolved into shadow. Soyeon however, lingered for a few moments. She tapped my shoulder and said, "Good fighting, today. Keep it up."
I smirked, "Thank you, master."
Her dagger then found my chin before I could blink. The werebeasts snarled but Soyeon just smiled, "Do not call me that."
"Noted," I chuckled.
Soyeon withdrew her blade and just like her sisters, she dissolved into shadow.
"We should probably go as well," I said, and Yeji nodded in agreement.
"I didn't know you had abs," Minjeong commented as Jimin dabbed an ice pack on my bruised abdomen.
We turned towards the opposite direction of the sirens and sprinted out of the area.
--------------
We hid at the campus rooftop, it would be trouble if people saw me being treated for a bruised abdomen after the attack at the college. The sky was clear and the wind cool — like no assault happened just a few hours ago.
"Stop staring, Kim Minjeong," I berated, then winced at the cold sting of the pack, making Jimin chuckle in amusement.
"What? I'm just making an observation. You're not the only one who has abs," she muttered. The sophomore sat on a nearby desk, her feet dangling and not quite reaching the floor.
Jimin and I eyed her, intrigued, our eyes lowering down her waist — and the weight of expectation seemed to drop on Minjeong's shoulders. "No, I'm not showing you my belly," she protested vehemently, covering her waist with her arms.
"We didn't say anything," Jimin retorted, grinning mischievously.
"But your eyes were saying it!" Minjeong countered. "You're a creep, Seren!" She added, her cheeks burning red.
"What the —? And Jimin gets a pass? The double standard!" I quipped back sarcastically.
Jimin laughed heartily. "But seriously, don't make it a habit — getting punched by Glade Lords."
"Even if it gives you a view of my abs?" I teased.
"I saw those last night, don't get too cocky," Jimin countered.
"Eww," Minjeong exclaimed, making Jimin and I laugh louder.
"Anyway," I began, turning to Minjeong, "have you seen your sister since, well, since this morning?"
Minjeong shook her head while she started swinging her legs, "No. But I texted her, said if she needs me she can contact me anytime. She just replied that she's glad I'm safe and that she'll talk to me later if I want to."
"What she did –" Jimin whispered softly. "What they did, that was —"
"Disturbing," I said.
Minjeong nodded, "I can see why you'll say that. But it's the Wild Hunt, they do worse things to those they capture and abduct."
"What other options did they have at the moment?" Jimin asked.
"Have Aeri crush them under her barrier," I replied.
"Or have Eunchae teleport them in the sky so they die when they land," Minjeong added.
"Hah," I scoffed. "Nothing pretty. In hindsight, Chaewon's fire seemed the most... humane."
"What if you and the huntresses were there?" Minjeong asked.
I scoffed again, "Then it would be a lot messy — if the fight against Durzan's forces were any indication. Ryujin alone will make the field look... gladiatorial."
Then we heard the rooftop's doors click and open. Jimin immediately placed the pack in her bag and I rolled my shirt down. Who emerged was a girl in a suit, petite. Familiar.
"Ms Gaeul?" Minjeong inquired, her eyebrows narrowing.
"Gaeul? One of Princess Wonyoung's aides?" I followed.
"Exactly that Gaeul," Gaeul replied, still with that bored expression and cadence.
"Why are you here?" Jimin asked.
Gaeul sighed, "You didn't make it easy to find you, Mr Vale. Princess wants to see you," then she looked at Jimin, "and you too, Ms Yu. President's office, no detours, I will escort you."
"Is this about the attack this morning?" Jimin asked.
"Yes and no."
"What kind of answer is that?" I followed.
"The only kind you'll get from me," Gaeul sighed. "Now get moving, please."
Minjeong raised her hand tentatively, "Can I come with?"
Gaeul eyed the girl then sighed again, "Fine, but only until the doors of the office. You're not allowed inside."
Minjeong nodded and jumped off the desk at the same time Jimin and I rose.
"I trust you know the way to the President's Office?" Gaeul asked, and we all nodded.
"Then walk ahead, I'll stay behind to ensure you take no detours."
"Having trust issues, Ms Kim?" I inquired as I walked ahead of her.
"Princess's orders," Gaeul replied flatly. "Now get going."
I huffed as Jimin, Minjeong, and I walked towards the rooftop doors to answer a royal call that may go unpleasant.
The walk was quiet — we can't actually talk and gossip with the Princess's aide breathing down our backs, and she also made it clear that she's not in a conversing mood. Gladly, there were no students wandering the hallways or else we'll be the prime ingredient of campus gossip for the whole week. I can even see their headline — Third Years escorted by Princess's aide. Too much attention — pass.
It was only a matter of time until the double oak doors of the President's Office loomed in front of us. It was here that Gaeul finally held Minjeong.
"Can I wait here outside?" Minjeong asked softly.
Gaeul nodded before holding the door's handles.
"Is..." Minjeong hesitated, making Gaeul freeze and raise an eyebrow.
"Is Chaewon inside?" Minjeong asked quietly and with a lot of hesitation.
Gaeul's expression softened, "She is."
Minjeong nodded, "Okay. Okay. I'll, um, wait here. Outside." She takes a seat on the benches placed near the door.
Gaeul nodded again and turned her attention to Jimin and I. We both nodded our heads. Gaeul opened the door, and we stepped into a kettle about to explode.
On the right side of the couches were the sorceresses — Aeri, Chaewon, and Eunchae. And on the other side — were the werebeasts — Yeji, Ryujin, and Chaeryoung. Both groups were staring daggers at each other, and the only thing keeping them was a clearly exhausted and exasperated Princess Jang Wonyoung who was leaning against the President's table.
"Woah," I began. "This looks like an uglier battlefield than the one just this morning," I remarked sarcastically.
"Which one?" Aeri asked sharply. "Ours or yours?"
"Aeri, please," Wonyoung said wearily. Gaeul took her position on her left while on her right was the taller aide, An Yujin if I remember correctly.
"Ours was uglier," no need hiding the fact that we fought the Hunt outside campus since they already knew it. "Seen it yourself?" I bit back, earning an approving smirk from Ryujin — the only one in this room who appreciates a little bit of chaos.
"Seren," Jimin whispers behind me, grounding me. Chaewon notices, particularly Jimin's hand clutching my sleeve.
"Take a seat, Vale, and Ms Yu," Wonyoung gestures the couch directly opposite of her.
"Thank you, princess," Jimin curtsies and pulls me down to the seat. Chaewon eyes both of us with a neutral expression, taking note of how close we sat to each other, and Jimin's hand that was now wrapped around my wrist.
"So, princess, why are we here?" I asked.
"Seren," Jimin whispers, nudging my shoulder.
"They're... 'asking'... about the incident at the park this morning," Yeji replies, her eyes boring a hole down Uchinaga Aeri who was responding with equal intensity.
"We're asking where the students have gone," Aeri countered.
"Students?"
"Shin Yuna and Seol YoonAh," Eunchae replied uncomfortably, clearly wanting, whatever this is, to be over quickly.
"Why?" I turned to Wonyoung.
"You know why," the Princess replied.
"And yet I want to hear it from you."
"Seren," Jimin whispered more urgently.
"Mind your tongue, Vale," An Yujin growled.
Wonyoung raised a hand and her aide stood down. Then she sighed — "We have... credible reports that they're fae."
"And what are you planning to do when you finally have them?"
"That's royal business —"
"Why are the huntresses here?"
"Royal business as well, probably," Ryujin quipped.
"Shut up, cat," Aeri spat.
"Ooh," Ryujin continued unbothered. "You're threateningly sexy. What you gonna do? Crush me on one of your barriers?"
"If you give me reason to," Aeri snapped back.
Ryujin scoffed, "You won't be fast enough."
"Are we done?!" Wonyoung raised her voice, her posture tense, rigid, like she's about to snap anytime.
"The defense of the campus went great," Wonyoung started. "But what happened after, your team going after Shin Yuna and their subsequent disappearance — that's not good optics."
"You make it sound like you care," I muttered.
Wonyoung glared at me, her youthful aura disappearing under a cloak of stress and responsibility. "I do care, Vale —"
"Our fight happened outside campus grounds, Princess," Yeji interjected. "So is Shin Yuna and Seol YoonAh disappearing... but that's not what truly concerns you, is it? The optics you're talking about is just cover for something else."
Aeri looked at Wonyoung quizzically, "What does the werebeast mean by that, princess?"
"Stop saying our race like it's a slur," Chaeryoung spat, and it surprised Jimin and I. She's usually calm and composed, but seeing her almost lose it here is lowkey terrifying.
Aeri looked at Chaeryoung, "Apologies, huntress," she said, almost mockingly.
"Aeri," Eunchae whispers beside her.
"My inquiry stands, princess. What does the huntress mean?" Aeri turned back to Wonyoung.
"I thought I made it clear last time, princess. Just be honest and we won't push back... much," I said. Jimin tightened her grip on my wrist which looks like the only thing that Chaewon is focusing on.
"Fine," Wonyoung exhaled heavily. "I want them back because I'm considering what you said last time."
Aeri was immediately on her feet, "Princess you can't be serious."
"Sit down, Uchinaga," Chaewon finally speaks, although it is soft, almost as weary as Wonyoung.
"Wait, can someone enlighten us?" Yeji said.
"Yeah. What does she mean, Seren?" Chaeryoung turned to me.
I exhaled as heavily as Wonyoung did, "Coexistence."
A needle could have dropped and we would have heard it. Jimin's eyes widened alongside the werebeasts. "So do you mean that you want Yuna and Sullyoon back... as a... proof of concept? That humans and Night Folk can coexist in the college?"
"And by extension, the whole of Verrath," I finished.
Ryujin scoffed, "Typical humans, using us for your own purposes."
"Shut your mouth, huntress," Aeri snapped.
"Want me to morph and shut it down your neck?"
"Shin Ryujin!" Yeji raised her voice and Ryujin just smirked.
"Ryujin's right, princess," Jimin spoke, "you can't just use Yuna and Sullyoon, and the werebeasts for that matter — as proof of concepts for your father."
"You need to develop trust, and you're failing miserably," Chaeryoung said gently.
"Night Folk can't be trusted, princess," Aeri protested.
"And so are humans," Yeji countered. "The amount of atrocities we borne down on each other makes 'who started it' irrelevant."
"You terrorized us —"
"If you're talking about our less civilized cousins — the lycantrophes — then we have nothing to talk about," Yeji responded. "They are indulgent and out of control, and you think we're the same as them."
"And you are not?" Aeri followed.
"Unless given reason to," Ryujin interjected.
"I said that's enough!" Wonyoung raised her voice again, her hands crumpled into fists, trembling until her knuckles turned white.
She breathed, audibly heavy like she was trying to calm herself. Then she faced the huntresses, "Do I have your support?"
"You have mine," Chaewon replied immediately.
"Eunchae?" Wonyoung asked.
"Uhm.." the spatial sorceress considered for a moment. "I don't know yet. I think you've already found your conviction, princess. And that's good, but... I'd rather see where it goes first before I commit. But for now, I don't reject it."
"That's enough," Wonyoung nodded then turned her head towards Aeri. "I know what you're about to say, but can't you just... humor me for this one, if you can't trust me with it? If it fails, you can say you told me so."
"If you fail there might never be an opportunity to say that," Aeri replied. She closed her eyes, and the room became as still as her barriers. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Aeri opened her eyes, "Fine, princess. I'll support you for now. But the moment I sense a hint of treachery —"
"I get it, Aeri," Wonyoung sighed, relief evident in her voice. "Now sit down, please."
Wonyoung then turned towards the werebeasts, "I know this is... very radical of me. But, like Eunchae said, I think I've found my conviction. And I recognize that I may have been doing things the wrong way — allow me to apologize for that."
Ryujin looked disarmed by the princess's words, Yeji and Chaeryoung on the other hand, were listening intently.
"Also, I know you don't trust me, what I ask is just a chance. A chance to prove that I'm sincere in what I'm fighting for and that it is worth a shot."
In a move that surprised me, Yeji turned towards me. "Do you trust her, Seren?" Her question made all the eyes turn towards me, heaviest of them all was Wonyoung's gaze.
I felt Jimin squeeze my arm, a silent gesture of support that I'm grateful for. "I do," I replied.
Yeji nodded, her eyes then scanned the sorceresses before looking back at the princess. "Fine, we'll give your... conviction, a shot."
And the room breathed as Princess Jang Wonyoung did.
"So, what's your plan?" I asked.
"We bring Shin Yuna and Seol YoonAh back in campus —"
"They'll come back."
"What?" Wonyoung said, not trying to hide her shock.
"They'll come back. Seol YoonAh said so during the battle at the park this morning. They're just... lying low."
Wonyoung blinked her eyes twice. "So what was the point of all that —?" She said, her voice growing slower and softer with every word.
"Hate to break it to you princess but," Yeji started with a grin on her face. "You're still much too young for all this..."
"Politics shit," Ryujin offered, making Wonyoung's aides smile faintly and Chaewon chuckle softly.
"But for what it's worth, princess," Chaeryoung added, "we think you're in the right track."
"Besides, that verbal boxing allowed us to gauge who we really need to convince with all this... coexistence stuff we're advocating," I turned towards Aeri with a smug smirk.
"I'll be watching you closely," Aeri bit back then turned towards the werebeasts, "all of you."
"Oh we're counting on it," Ryujin smirked as well.
Jimin then released a breath which I think she was holding since we entered the office, "Glad that's over with."
"Ditto," Eunchae echoed.
Chaewon however, remained silent, her gaze always returning to Jimin's grip on my wrist.
"So, um, are we good?" Chaeryoung asked Wonyoung who was still reeling a little bit from shock that Yuna and Sullyoon would just be returning to campus on their own.
Yujin approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Princess?"
Wonyoung then gave an airy chuckle, then she smiled, the youth coming back to her face. "Yeah. Yeah. We're good. You may all go. Uhm, except for you Seren and..." she turned towards the sorceress and Jimin's grip on my wrist tightened, "... Chaewon. I want to speak to both of you in private."
Chaewon and I exchanged awkward glances, her gaze lowering again to where Jimin and I are physically connected.
"Gaeul, could you please escort the sorceresses through the back while Yujin escorts the huntresses and Ms Yu Jimin through the front. I won't have both of you arguing again in front of this office," Wonyoung sighed wearily.
Gaeul echoed her princess's sigh while Yujin's faint smile gave some hint of pride. Her aides started escorting the two groups out. Jimin gives my wrist another soft squeeze before rising and taking Chaeryoung's hand. Together, she joined the werebeasts in exiting the room from where we came in. Gaeul on the other hand, escorts Aeri and Eunchae at the back door of the office.
The only ones left in the room were me, Jang Wonyoung, and Kim Chaewon. And if the room had a name, it would be: awkward.
Wonyoung sighed then walks towards the window. Chaewon and I exchanged another awkward glance only to avert our eyes immediately once they met.
"So, what can both of you say?" Wonyoung breaks the silence.
"Say about what?" I asked, stuttering.
"About this... coexistence thing. Seren made me realize this, and Chaewon was the only one of the sorceresses to openly support me, so..." she looked at us over her shoulder, "what can both of you say?"
Chaewon and I exchanged another glance, this time the contact lasted longer, along with a quiet mental conversation.
"I think," I began. "I think we're way over our heads, princess."
Chaewon and Wonyoung chuckled lightly. "And why is that?" The princess asked, turning fully to face both of us.
"I mean look at us. Barely even past our early 20s and already talking about stuff generations before us have tried to do and failed," I replied.
"He has a point," Chaewon supported.
"And you, Chaewon?" Wonyoung turned to the sorceress.
Chaewon was silent for a moment. "I'll be honest, princess. I'm supporting your conviction because of Seren's own conviction."
Her words triggered something within me, something I can't quite put a finger around yet.
Wonyoung tilted her head, "Explain."
Chaewon smiled then looked at me before turning back to the princess. "We're... childhood friends, princess. As I'm sure Eunchae already had the pleasure of gossiping that to you." Wonyoung chuckled, not even denying the claim.
"When you summoned Seren here for the first time... it was also the first time I saw him with such... vigor, in defending his principles. And he is a good person, I know that all too well. So if someone like him fights for something this strongly, then it must be worth fighting for."
I released a breath I didn't know I was holding. The irony of what she's saying wasn't lost on me — I didn't fight as strongly for her when she was taken by the Night Ladies, does that make her not worth fighting for?
I wanted to argue, to refute what she was saying underneath — but not here, not in front of the princess. Instead, I just stared at her in disbelief.
"It's a good thing you both seem to be in the same page," Wonyoung sighed another breath of relief. "That's because I'm planning to have both of you as my liaisons for this... advocacy. Chaewon for her sorceress sisters, and you Seren, for our Night Folk friends."
"Wait, what?" Chaewon and I said simultaneously.
"I've said it clearly, didn't I?" Wonyoung asked innocently. "You'll both be working closely together whenever I need you to in order to advance "Project Coexistence."
"Project Coexistence?" Chaewon chuckled.
"Yep, a little bit tacky isn't it?" Wonyoung said in defeat, and I could swear she looked so young and adorable when she pouted.
I smiled, releasing a soft sigh before speaking, "How about," the two ladies then turned their eyes at me, "Eclipse Garden."
Chaewon smiled softly, "Eclipse Garden," she echoed, softer, like the words will break if she said it wrong.
"I like it," Wonyoung whispered.
"Meh," Chaewon said teasingly, "it's passable."
I scoffed in faux indignation, "Let's hear yours then."
"I'll tell you when something comes up," she stuck her tongue out at me. And just like that, we were back as kids, arguing over the smallest of things. It's nostalgic, in the good or bad way, I don't know yet.
"Well then," Wonyoung continued. "I'll leave you two for awhile..."
"What?" I snapped my head.
"Wait, princess –" Chaewon shook hers.
" — talk about how you can work together. But I guess being childhood friends, it won't be that difficult." Jang Wonyoung innocently kept going while walking towards the office's back door, blissfully oblivious to our protests as if she hadn’t just orchestrated the whole thing, until she disappeared.
"So, uhm..." I tried to break the awkward silence — succeeding only in breaking the latter. "How do we do this? This liaison thing?"
Chaewon chuckled on her seat like she couldn't believe this is happening, not the liaison thing — but the fact that we're alone in one room together. "You tell me, this coexistence thing was your idea."
"Doesn't mean I know how to proceed."
"You were right, then."
"About what?"
"We're in way over our heads."
Another silence blankets the room, heavier, a little bit uncomfortable.
"Thank you, Chaewon," I said softly yet she recoiled like the word hit her like a truck.
"What the hell are you talking about?" She snapped back, but softer.
"For supporting me — for supporting this."
"Do not make me regret it."
"Like how I regret not doing anything that day —"
"Don't —" Chaewon raised a hand, shutting me up. She closed her eyes and took three deep breaths before opening them again. "Please. Don't."
"Sorry," I muttered awkwardly. What I wanted to say was sorry for that day, for not standing up for her, for letting her be taken away.
"You won't be able to stop it anyway," Chaewon murmured back as if reading my thoughts. "What were we, 15, 16? And against an institution."
"But —"
"I said don't, Seren —" her raised hand balled into a fist, yet there was no heat behind her words, only softness and regret.
I nodded and shifted in my seat. "And look at us now, in our 20s, against an even bigger institution."
"Fate's a bitch," Chaewon chuckled dryly.
"We make our own fate," I snapped back. "But yeah, fate's a bitch," I added softly, making her lips curve into a faint smile.
Chaewon turned to study me. Her eyes darting and fluttering all over my face — and I let her, for I was doing the same. Then she gave a weak and weary huff, "I told you not to do that."
"Do what?"
"Use Minjeong against me."
"I'm not," although a thought did pass my mind that Minjeong was waiting for her outside. "But yeah, she's waiting for you outside."
Chaewon averted her gaze, "So is your girlfriend," she whispered, almost inaudibly, like she didn't want both of us to hear her say it.
"She's not —" damn. How do I explain Jimin and I to someone who wasn't there when all this Night Folk shit began. With the werebeasts, it was simple, but with Chaewon, and with all the baggage that comes with it — it seems impossible.
"She's pretty," Chaewon muttered.
"We're not dating, Chaewon. Not... exactly."
Chaewon scoffed softly, "Don't tell me it's some kind of 'it's complicated' clichè."
"It is complicated but... the circumstances that make it so are not exactly a clichè."
"That's what you all tell yourself," Chaewon muttered before rising and making for the back door.
"Chaewon, wait —" I rose as she held the handle. She froze, waiting for me to say something stupid.
I held my mouth for three long breaths before speaking, "I missed you, Chae —"
"I said don't, Seren," her voice almost broke. "Please don't make it real."
Damn — what a day, I thought as I crashed on my couch. I was at the point where I'm too tired to make myself a hot chocolate, but also unable to sleep. The latter annoys me the most — how the hell does someone get so tired that he can't sleep?
And she left me in an office room that perfectly reflects how empty my heart was at that moment.
-------------
This was a day that drained me physically, mentally, psychologically, and emotionally — and to be deprived of that rest seems unfair.
I massaged the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. I raised my leg over the desk, grateful for the soothing feeling of blood rushing across my lower body.
What the hell am I gonna do with all this free time?
Free time — I remembered Yuna's advice, to train whenever I have free time. Fine then, I'll train, hopefully it makes me more exhausted and I'll just fall straight to sleep.
I crossed my legs, straightened my posture, and closed my eyes. I felt the faerie dust release from my body. Now, if only there was some nature here, I could extend my consciousness, instead, I have my couch, and empty space in the air.
Wait — air? Air is also nature right? A hypothesis swirled in my head. Can I... spread my consciousness in the air? Can I reach into it? Even become part of it?
First question, though – how? I can't anchor myself in the air. I can't grab it even though it's all around me. I considered calling Sullyoon, but a part of me hesitated. A competitive spirit perhaps, or just plainly trying to impress the dryad — I'll try to figure this out on my own. If it works, I'll have something to brag about... maybe even teach Sullyoon. If I fail, well, no harm done.
So I racked my brain, dust still swirling all over my body. Wait — all over my body? When did I get to do that? It was just on my palms last Saturday. Though the Death Dealers said I was hazy when they arrived that night. Maybe my control got better?
Anyway, I'm getting sidetracked. My problem right now is how to reach out to the air. Damn it, how do you reach out to something you can't touch but is all around you? I heaved a big sigh and leaned my head against the couch's backrest.
Wait — heaved?
Breathed.
Breathing.
That's it!
I straightened again on the couch. The moment our body interacts directly with the air is when we breathe. Now the question is, would I be able to use this routine movement to accomplish what I'm planning.
Only one way to find out.
I crossed my legs.
Closed my eyes.
Relaxed my body.
And breathed.
Deep inhales through the nose. Deeper exhales through the mouth.
I tried to keep count of my breathing, but got annoyed when I reached thirty-two. I decided to just breathe, if something happens, then good. Sullyoon also taught me patience, nature does not like to be rushed. So if it comes, it comes.
I didn't know how long I was sitting there — I may have fallen asleep and didn't even notice it. But the whisper came softly, almost imperceptibly — and I didn't hear it with my ears, I heard it with my skin.
I felt weightless.
Not exactly floating — expanding.
Then... space. Or at least, how the air bends and adjusts to space.
It was like my skin had eyes. I can map every inch of my apartment just by feeling the air. Every curve of the couch, the edges of the tables and countertops, even the soft touch of the curtains. I felt them all, like the air was a second skin.
I smiled and whispered a soft thank you. The air responded, blowing just a little stronger and making the hair on my arms stand on edge. This is a breakthrough — I think. I don't know if dryads can do this but I can't wait to tell Sullyoon.
I kept concentrating, trying hard not to break the contact. I was so giddy that the drowsiness all but left my body. Thing is — now I want to move. I want to feel the wind as I move.
An idea popped into my mind, and since Sullyoon has not taught me how to actually manifest plantlife yet, I searched around my apartment. I didn't leave my couch, I searched through the air until I felt it. I flexed my hands like I'm holding it. It was just behind my door, right beside my shoe rack.
I rose towards it, walking slowly so as not to break my concentration and my connection with the wind. I reached for it — a six foot metal pipe, left there when my sink broke and the pipes needed to be replaced like six months ago.
I gave it a quick flourish. Heavy — heavier than Soyeon's quarterstaff, but it'll do. I exited my apartment and made my way to the apartment rooftop, the only space where I can practice combat.
I scaled five more floors before I reached the rooftop. The air should have been cold this time of night, instead it wrapped me in a warm embrace — like an old friend finally saying "now you see me."
The crescent moon was waxing in the cloudless sky tonight. I've only been to the rooftop when the old landlord toured me when I moved in — that was three years ago. Well, rooftops don't usually have renovations so I guess it's the same flat and empty space as it once was.
I took my place at the center, extending my consciousness towards the four corners of the space. I kept faerie dust released all over my body as I assumed the combat stance I was taught. This would be my challenge for tonight — maintain faerie dust and my connection with the air while practicing and slowly incorporating the enhanced speed and strength I assimilated from Chaeryoung and Seulgi, respectively.
Ambitious? Perhaps. But I need to take my mind off the things that happened the whole day. So I'm going to focus only on training every aspect I trained with last Saturday.
I did some tentative moves, slowly testing out how fast I could move and how hard I could strike with both abilities active. Moving wasn't the issue — it was keeping my concentration while I tested my limits, and so far — it's a slow start.
I kept going for about half an hour, practicing and imitating forms Soyeon demonstrated last Saturday. Then I felt a disturbance in the wind — someone has entered the space inside the rooftop. And she moved fast — but not faster than Saerom was this morning, and certainly not faster than Chaeryoung. I felt her weapon — a glaive, as she moved behind me with practiced grace. Most of all — I felt her fangs as she smiled.
She struck sideways when she was upon me, and I blocked the shaft of her glaive with the metal pipe. The sound of the clash rang across the rooftop and the weight of her blow sent me skidding sideways. She was not as strong as Saerom, or even Seulgi either, but her strike was a welcome greeting.
"Good evening, Lee Chaeyoung," I greeted, relaxing my grip on the metal pipe.
"Good evening, Seren," Chaeyoung greeted back, pulling her hood down with a sultry grin on her lips. "I was sure I had you back there."
"First time?" I teased.
Chaeyoung chuckled, "Against a human, yes."
"You know I'm not fully human, Chaeng," I replied.
"Ooh, you're embracing it now."
"A little bit. Saerom and I had a talk."
"After I sucked you off?" Chaeyoung asked teasingly.
I just chuckled and nodded. "So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Nothing really," Chaeyoung replied, flourishing her glaive and holding it behind her back. "I was bored, then I smelled that you were outside. Imagine my surprise when I saw you practicing... well not actually saw you immediately, that layer of faerie dust all around you still makes you hazy."
"How did you find me before you struck, then?"
"Scent. Your blood smells really fragrant," a predatory smile etches across her lips.
"So I've been told."
"Your turn — how did you sense my approach?" Chaeyoung tilted her head in genuine curiosity.
"Through the wind," I replied nonchalantly, maybe even a little bit cocky. I figured this out on my own, I think I deserve a little... arrogance for it.
"What? Are you an aeromancer or something?" Chaeyoung asked, clearly confused.
"Well, not exactly," I replied. Then I explained my discovery to her, how I can sense everything the air touches in a given space.
"So, you can sense everything within this rooftop?" Chaeyoung asked.
"So I take it you're practicing with all your abilities active at once?" She followed.
"Yeah. So far so good."
"Do you know what would make it better?" Chaeyoung giddily asked.
"What?" I recoiled for a moment. Knowing Chaeyoung she'll probably say something crude or sexual, maybe even a direct invitation to have sex.
Instead, the Death Dealer assumes a stance. Legs spread, hips low, glaive behind her with the blade pointing downward. She held her hand out and beckoned with a come over gesture, "A sparring partner."
I smirked then assumed my own stance. "Just don't beat me up too much, Chaeng."
Chaeyoung smirked back, "I'll try not to."
And Chaeyoung charged head on. Fast — almost as fast as Chaeryoung when she disappeared from my sight. And yet I can feel her in the wind — I felt her blow coming. I raised the pipe to block and had my head nearly taken off with the speed of Chaeyoung's strike.
I back stepped, mind racing on what went wrong. I clearly sensed the direction, the timing, even the power behind Chaeyoung's strike — but I wasn't able to counter in time.
"You're overloaded," Chaeyoung remarked. "You're thinking too much. Maintaining too much. It compromises your physical capabilities."
"But I want to train to maintain these abilities while in combat," I replied.
"Then choose only one for the time being," Chaeyoung suggested. "Or reduce scale."
"Reduce scale," I muttered. Maybe if I don't cover the entire rooftop with my senses. A smaller area, enough not to overload my brain, but also wide enough to be able to sense Chaeyoung's movements. As for faerie dust, I'll try to just maintain them released, not swirling all over my body.
I applied the necessary adjustments, shrinking my consciousness into a dome extending six feet in radius. Once again, I lowered myself, pipe pointing directly at Chaeyoung.
"Ready?" Chaeyoung asked.
"Let's find out."
And the Death Dealer charged again.
She did the same thing she did last time — a sideways strike aimed directly at my head. I felt it, clearer now — how her shoulders extended, how her hips pivoted, and how she planted her feet — all the things Soyeon taught me to watch—things I struggled with when I only had to rely on one sense. Now I can just — feel it.
I blocked with the pipe, the sound ringing in my ears. Her second strike came low and I met it with a sweeping strike of my own. Chaeyoung jerked her outer shoulder, bringing the butt end of her glaive towards my face. I dodged, then sidestepped to create space and regroup.
"That was good," Chaeyoung remarked with pride in her voice.
"Woah," I exclaimed. Adrenaline rushed along my veins. The air I breathe seemed energizing, like it's enjoying the fight as much as Chaeyoung and I are.
"Another round?" Chaeyoung asked, grinning. She changed her stance, still low, but the glaive now held above her head, her forward hand holding it aloft.
I raised the pipe again, and with a grin matching Chaeyoung's — I charged, meeting her in the middle of the rooftop.
We traded blows evenly, although I can feel that Chaeyoung was holding back a little bit. I'm not so cocky as to assume that I became equal to a Death Dealer — one of Joohyun's personal elite even — after discovering a new ability.
But yet, it felt good, matching blows against someone of Chaeyoung's calibre. I could tell she's not as strong or fast as Saerom, she's also not as technically skilled as Soyeon, but she's better than me in all those aspects.
We sparred for what felt like hours. I was able to maintain the sensory space I created as well as the faerie dust released from my body, all while keeping up blow by blow against a Death Dealer. We only stopped when the metal pipe finally bent at an angle that made it unwieldly.
I collapsed on the bulkhead roof, Chaeyoung sitting down beside me. I was panting — heaving even, and I'm drenched with sweat. I decided to recall the faerie dust, but I kept my connection with the wind.
"That was fun," Chaeyoung smirked.
"It was." I looked at my watch — 10:30PM, still a little bit early.
"Tired?" The Death Dealer inquired.
"Not exactly. Breathing seems... easier to me now. And I think it helped with the exhaustion... or the lack of it."
"Breathing, huh," Chaeyoung muttered softly.
"Sorry," I whispered. "Was that insensitive of me?"
"No," Chaeyoung replied. "I just... miss the sensation of it."
"Vampires can still breathe, right?"
Chaeyoung nodded. "But we don't need to. Most of the time we do it just out of habit, or like me, missing the sensation. But it's useless so, why even do it."
To that, I have no answer.
Clouds were now on the sky as I stared at it, covering some of the stars that I know. "Saerom said you were turned during the coven wars?" I asked cautiously.
I felt her smile faintly as she hugged her knees in front of her. "She told you that, huh."
"Not in detail. If it's uncomfortable for you, we can just... stay quiet and watch the night sky."
Chaeyoung turned her head upwards, watching the same sky that I am watching. "It was a sky such as this," she began melancholically. "We were blissfully unaware of a war between vampires was raging at the time. What we know is that people would suddenly rage into an uncontrollable bloodlust..."
"The Blood Plague."
"Yeah, that's what they called it," Chaeyoung continued. "Of course it was just lower vampires who can't control their thirst. Thing is — most vampire covens inadvertently caused all of that. They tried turning an entire populace into soldiers — but it only takes one to rampage before all those efforts come crashing down."
"Your village was one of them?" I asked.
Chaeyoung lowered her head and nodded. "The misfortune of our village was that six different covens attacked in just one night. Five came to turn us. The sixth came to erase us. And just like that, the night sky turned red."
I stayed quiet, allowing Chaeyoung the space whether she wants to continue or not.
"Did she tell you we're sisters? All three of us?" Chaeyoung finally asked.
"She did. Said there were seven of you. Only the three of you survived."
Chaeyoung huffed softly, yet it carried an air of bitterness. "Five of us were turned, each by a different coven."
"She told me that. And that you met in the battlefield, and you..." I hesitated for a moment, waiting for Chaeyoung to stop me — she didn't. "She said you killed indiscriminately."
Another scoff, then a sob. "That's an understatement. She was..." she paused, then she looked at the night sky again. "She slew our two other sisters."
I sat up, unable to control my shock. Chaeyoung gave a weary sigh when she saw my expression. "She was forced to kill the first one, she was unable to control her thirst and nearly destroyed a castle single handedly. As for the second one..." Chaeyoung sighed again, as if she was remembering herself in that same moment eighteen hundred years ago. "She killed our second sister when her coven struck hers. That sister fell in love with the coven's prince, and she chose to defend him to the death rather than join Saerom's coven."
"I'm sorry," though the words never felt they were enough.
Chaeyoung just smiled a far gentler smile than she usually does, her eyes glistened under the moonlight. "I don't remember their names anymore... or maybe I chose not to. But Saerom, she never forgot."
"That's why she thinks she's a monster," I whispered.
Chaeyoung nodded. "When the war was nearing its end, seven elders were dead. Joohyun's coven, the Verrathi coven as you know it now, defeated Saerom's coven and she took her as her first Death Dealer. Then Saerom searched for us, directing the coven towards our own. Soyeon's chose to surrender and was assimilated, mine chose to fight —"
"And you were the only survivor?"
Chaeyoung grinned, "In a way. I killed all of them, in their sleep. Then defected to Saerom, to Joohyun."
She then turned to me, a single wet streak trailing down her left eye. "So you see, Seren. I'm also a monster." Her voice broke, but she still said it with a smile on her face.
I bowed my head and noticed her hands were trembling. "Do you regret it?"
"No. I was the most proficient in vampiric charm in my original coven, and they were unwilling to let me go."
"So you killed them to avoid further bloodshed?"
Chaeyoung gave an airy chuckle, "I can see where you're going. Greater good. Killing the few to save the many. Believe me, I've thought about that in my eighteen hundred years of walking this earth. But that coven was still my family, in their own twisted way — and I massacred them in one night — to save more lives in a war we never even understood, and to reunite with my sisters. So tell me, does my end justified my means?"
"I..." I hesitated. "I don't know."
Chaeyoung smiled softly, "It's alright, Seren. Even I don't know, and I'm eighteen hundred years old. I just learned to live with that fact. As well as the fact that I may need to live with that fact for eternity."
She raised her head again and wiped her cheek. "You made me cry, Seren Vale," she said teasingly.
"I'm sorry."
"Now you need to pay for it," Chaeyoung said.
"Wait, what?"
"I said pay for making me cry."
"What? Are you a kid?" I teased, chuckling.
"I'm serious," the teasing glint returned in her eyes, the seductive smile returning shortly after.
"Okay, fine," I chuckled wearily. "What do you want? A drop of blood —?"
"Fuck me."
"Come again?"
She moved, quick, maybe even quicker than when we were sparring. In a flash, Lee Chaeyoung was straddling me. Her hands caught mine and she pulled it close to her.
"You got to see me vulnerable. Nobody gets to see me vulnerable."
"Chaeng —"
"So fuck me. Make me forget that I opened up to you. Make me forget even my own name."
"Right here?" I asked, gesturing at the bulkhead.
"Yes. Right here," she replied, moaning as she slowly grind herself on top of me. "Do it right here. Under the night sky. With the moon as the witness."
"Fuck, Chaeng —" I hissed as I felt my pants slowly tightening.
Then she held my head firmly, but her eyes were soft, almost pleading. "Pretend you love me, Seren. Pretend that you love me tonight."
I pressed my forehead against hers. My breath brushing against her skin while nothing meets mine. I held her waist softly, then surrendered to her eyes, leaning in to kiss her — and pretend that I love her with the moon as our witness.
Chaeyoung hissed. I felt her fangs pierce my lower lip — light enough to feel the pleasure but not deep enough to draw blood — even though some part of me wanted her to.
The Death Dealer pulled away, she looked at me with hungry eyes and bit her lip, emphasizing her left fang as she did so. Her hands flew towards the pin holding her cloak and hood, she unclasped it and the clothing was removed from her body, revealing what seemed to be a mix between a long-sleeved leather jerkin and a corset.
"Zip it off me, will you?" Chaeyoung asked, voice breathy even though she does not need to breathe.
A hand of mine softly glides from her waist towards her back, feeling the rough texture of the zipper's teeth. I traveled upward, until I reached the tongue, and slowly pulled it down.
The clothing slowly peeled off of Chaeyoung's torso, my heart racing as I was about to see her naked upper body. Before I could get a proper look though, her clothing — more like armor — suddenly grew heavy in my hands.
With an audible grunt, I set it aside beside us, scattering dust as it landed heavily on the floor of the bulwark.
Chaeyoung giggled. "Heavy?" She asked, pressing her body flush against me, denying me the chance to glance on her bare torso.
"What the hell is that?" I chuckled as Chaeyoung nibbled on my earlobe.
"Dragon leather," she whispered. "One of the toughest materials to make armor with. Second only to the dwarves' mithril, and theirs is also lighter."
"You wear this every day?" My hands felt her trousers, whose texture suggests it is made with the same material.
"Only when I'm outside the coven," she replied, her fangs trailing sharply from my ear to my neck. "Only Saerom, Soyeon, and I have it amongst the Death Dealers."
"And you can still move that fast?"
Chaeyoung giggled on my neck before she pulled away, finally giving me a view of her slender and toned upper body. Her tits were small but shapely with hardened nubs that I know was not because of the cold wind blowing on our skin.
Chaeyoung grinned and snickered, "I'm faster without it, as you may see later."
"I may finish too quickly if you do that," I snickered.
"We don't want that, do we," Chaeyoung trailed her fingers down my chest to my stomach and ending with her hand balling the hem of my shirt. "I told you to make me forget my name, to pretend that you love me. That means taking our time," her whispered words were as sultry and sensual as her subtle movements atop my hips and thighs.
Chaeyoung pulled my shirt off of me. Then she traced her fingers over my chest, then down to my abs, all the while biting her lip like I was some kind of delicacy.
I hissed when her middle finger softly tread through the obvious tent in my pants. She gave a soft giggle that sounded so innocently playful that it was a little bit disarming considering she's an eighteen hundred year old vampire.
Chaeyoung lowered her head, slowly kissing her way down my chest, to my stomach. She lingered a little bit on my navel, licking the sensitive part and making me tense my core. While she does so, she pulls my pants down low enough for my now fully hard cock to spring out and hit her chest with a soft thud.
Chaeyoung giggled as her hands wrapped around my hardness, making me whip my head backward. "Looks like someone missed me," the Death Dealer quipped.
"I think the feeling's mutual — fuck!"
Chaeyoung wasted no time in putting my shaft inside her mouth. I was once again assaulted by the softness of her tongue, the warmth of her mouth, and the rough texture of her fangs.
She sucked my cock like expertly, knowing when to slow down and when to speed up, trapping me in a roller coaster that had my mouth open in a breathless scream and a hand pulling on my hair just to feel another sensation other than the best blowjob I'm having yet.
"Fuck, Chaeng —" I heaved, certain she won't stop until I spill my load down her throat.
Then she released her mouth with a loud pop. She smiled at me while stroking my cock almost lazily. "I can feel your blood rushing, Seren," Chaeyoung purred.
Then she stood, her hands unzipping her dragon leather jeans. Slowly, almost torturously, and with the most wicked grin in her face, Lee Chaeyoung pulled the garment down — with my jaws lowering as she did so. She was now laid bare in front of me, her pussy shaved and clean, her tits small but shapely, and with delectable nipples jutting outwards. But it was always her face that captivates — eyes that express both pride, lust, greed, and sloth, and a grin that can shatter any defense — vampiric charm or no.
"I've made you cum with my mouth before," Chaeyoung whispers loud enough for the wind to carry her words. Then she moves one hand towards her pussy, inserting two fingers and making an obscene and squelching noise. "Don't you think you need to return the favor?"
Chaeyoung moves toward me, my eyes never leaving her pussy while she fingers herself slowly. Her juices drip down her fingers and her thighs, making my own saliva drip down my chin.
Once she was inches away from me, Chaeyoung removes her fingers and wraps the hand around my head. Slowly, she pulled me close. I can smell her, a combined metallic fragrance of fresh blood and the musky scent of sweat from our recent sparring — and it makes for one effective aphrodisiac.
I dove in, feeling her swollen clit with my tongue — and Lee Chaeyoung almost pushes my head down to the bulwark floor.
"Fuck — you're good —" the Death Dealer gasped, grasping my hair tightly as she held on against my assault on her pussy.
I braced one hand on the bulwark floor while the other grabs Chaeyoung by her ass to steady her. The Death Dealer raises her leg and rests it on my shoulder as she slowly pressed her wetness against my tongue.
"Fuck... Seren... you're going to make me cum so fast..." Lee Chaeyoung whimpered. Serves you right — I thought, for making me cum quickly during that training night.
I flicked my tongue more earnestly, pausing sometimes to flatten it against her clit, making her whine in frustration at the need for friction and movement.
"Shit, you're so good —" Chaeyoung's moans increased in urgency. Her hips and her hand trapping me on her soft wetness. I lapped the juices dripping from her slit before giving her clit one slow lick — and her floodgates opened.
"Damn it — SEREN! I'm fucking — FUCK!"
Lee Chaeyoung's head whips back as she screamed to the moon. Her pussy clenches as she presses me tighter between her thighs. Copious amounts of her slick dripped down my chin, too much for my mouth to catch.
Chaeyoung disengaged from me. She stumbled before falling on her ass on the bulwark floor.
"Fuck — fuck..." she was still twitching in intervals. Short bursts of cum squirting from her pussy.
"What the fuck did you do to me, Seren Vale?" Chaeyoung chuckled, cheeks flushed but eyes still full of desire.
"You told me to make you forget your name."
I mounted on top of Chaeyoung. The Death Dealer lay down, her eyes facing the night sky before I covered it. My frame casted a shadow on her lithe body.
I ran a hand from her waist to cup one of her breasts. Her breath hitched, she took the hand and guided it to grope her tit, rolling it against her nipple. Her other hand reached for my cock and she rubbed it along her entrance.
"So big..." Chaeyoung murmured — then slowly sank down with a muffled gasp.
"Fuck that —" we both hissed. She's tight — well, forgive my thoughts about the contrary, she's an eighteen hundred year old vampire who's proud to say her body was her first weapon after all. And she was dripping like a faucet.
"You like that?" Chaeyoung murmured with an urgency that matched the movement of her hips.
I can only nod in reply as I try not to blow to early. Chaeyoung smiled and began riding with almost reckless abandon.
The sound of her moans and whimpers permeated the night air. My hands held her waist, trying to steady her as much as I can.
Chaeyoung moves like a woman possessed by the Lady of Lust herself. She braces her hands on my shoulders then squats, making her transition from wild grinding, to even wilder bouncing.
She's openly screaming now, her voice piercing and heavy with lust as her ass slaps my thighs every time she descends on my shaft. I can only hope no one can hear her from the rooms below.
'"Fuck, Seren! I'm going to... I'm going to fucking... fucking cum!" Chaeyoung screamed pulled me towards her neck as she screamed. I can feel her pussy contracting, eliciting pleasure I've never felt before — and I can only groan as I gritted my teeth so as not to blow my load.
Chaeyoung suddenly drops and tenses — her head whips back. Her pussy convulses, threatening to milk my cock inside of her.
My legs tensed and went rigid as I tried my hardest not to cum alongside Chaeyoung.
Then an ear shattering scream escapes Chaeyoung's throat. Her thighs clenched around mine tightly as my hold on her waist grips tighter.
Her pussy pulses as her body shakes on top of me. This is dangerous, I though, I might prematurely orgasm if this keeps going – so I decided to shift things up a bit, well my body did, not my mind.
I wrapped my arms around her waist and rose to carry her. Chaeyoung wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist, still shaking from her orgasm.
Sensing my intent, Chaeyoung presses her shaking body flush against me. Then she pushes herself up, then slams herself down.
"Fuck! That's it... right there!" Chaeyoung's moans resumed. These moans turned into screams once I moved my hips, meeting her every time she descends on my cock.
With a growl, I leaned in to capture one hard nub in my mouth, swirling my tongue and making Chaeyoung whip her head back with another hoarse scream.
I had no doubt profanities were being spat out of Chaeyoung's mouth, but i was focused on not cumming that I shut down every sense except the feeling of my cock sliding hard inside the Death Dealer.
I hissed when Chaeyoung suddenly yanked my head off her tits. She looked at me with hungry eyes before drowning her moans inside my mouth, pulling my head for a needy and sloppy kiss.
I pulled away, then bit her neck hard, right where her pulse should be — right where they clamp their fangs on their prey. Chaeyoung's squeal of pain and pleasure sounded like music in my ears.
"What's your name?" I growled.
"Fuck —" Chaeyoung whimpered, bouncing herself harder on my cock.
I moved to the other side of her neck — and bit at the same location.
"FUCK!" The Death Dealer roared.
"I asked for your name!" I roared back.
"Your slut! I'm your fucking slut! Keep fucking me with that fucking cock!"
Chaeyoung lifts herself off my cock. Her body tenses like a spring about to uncoil — and uncoil she did. Her pussy gushes, drenching my abdomen and the head of my cock. Her fingers tighten around my shoulders, digging and scratching the sweaty flesh.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Chaeyoung's every word was emphasized each by an equally heavy breath while she slowly relaxes on my arms.
"Fuck you..." the vampire whispers in my ear.
"Did you forget your name?" I quipped.
"For a moment I probably did," Lee Chaeyoung chuckled.
"Good, but we're not done yet."
I carried her to the edge of the bulwark before lowering her down. Chaeyoung seemed to sense what I wanted because she turned around from me and bent over, presenting her delectable ass for my visual consumption. She braced her hands on the small ledge, then slowly pushed her pussy, grinding her ass against my twitching dick.
"Get back in, Seren," Chaeyoung whined in a needy voice. "Your slut needs your hard cock inside her."
I chuckled as I prodded her entrance with my tip — and Chaeyoung tries to push it inside of her.
"Patience, slut!" I grinned, slapping her ass and making the sound echo across the night sky. I was taking a little bit of pleasure in this little game Chaeyoung was playing — maybe more than a little bit.
Lee Chaeyoung whimpered, "Please. I want it. I need it."
"What do you want, slut?" My grin grew more wicked while teasing the Death Dealer's entrance.
"You... your cock... all of it... Fuck, just please put it in!" The need and urgency in Chaeyoung's voice made me chuckle. "It's so frustrating that I can't use Charm against you so that you'll just put it the fuck — AHHH!" Chaeyoung screamed as I sheathed myself fully inside her dripping cunt and started pistoning in the roughest pace I can muster.
The soft tightness of Chaeyoung's pussy had me seeing stars — literally because I looked up to the sky with my teeth clenched just to control myself. It's like her walls welcome my cock with glee everytime I thrust in, and it's taking me one step to the edge with every thrust.
I gripped her thighs, allowing me to push harder and rougher — and Chaeyoung started to convulse.
"Fuck, Seren! You're making me... cum... you're making me cum again..." Her knuckles turned white on the ledge as her entire body clenched tightly.
"FUCK!" Another scream and she shot up, pressing her back against my chest while her cum threatens to push my cock off of her pussy.
Yet I fucked her through it. Her head rests on my shoulder, mouth open, eyes closed, body writhing. One of my hands held her arms, the other wraps around her chest, palming a hardened nub and making the Death Dealer shake more violently in pleasure.
"I'm close, Chaeng —" I whispered hoarsely.
Her eyes snapped open and stared directly at mine. "Inside. Fill your slut up. Nowhere else," Chaeyoung breathlessly, almost desperately, whined while nodding furiously.
My thrusts gained more urgency as I struggled to contain the pressure that was building up in my gut. And with one powerful thrust, I released my load inside of Lee Chaeyoung. The Death Dealer's eyes roll again at the top of her head, her mouth wide in a silent scream, and her pussy responding in kind as I fill her up just as she said.
My thrusts slowed as Chaeyoung relaxed in my arms. I pulled out slowly, landing on my ass on the cold floor immediately after my cock was released from her pussy. Chaeyoung fell to her knees, and I watched in amazement as both of our juices trickled out of her pussy to fall down on the floor.
Then Chaeyoung's light chuckle broke through the night. She looked at me over her shoulder, eyes half lidded with satisfaction, a grin spreading on her lips, emphasizing the flush on her cheeks.
I chuckled back, until we were both laughing, naked on top of the rooftop's bulwark.
"Did I make you forget your name, Chaeng?" I quipped.
"For a while, you did," Chaeyoung quipped back. "Fuck. I wasn't that thoroughly fucked since, I don't know... maybe that half-elf two centuries ago."
"I don't think I needed to hear that," my chuckles slowly ceased while Chaeyoung and I kept our eyes locked.
Slowly, Chaeyoung crawled towards me until she's back on my lap. She stroked the hair that was stuck on my forehead and temples.
"We should do this again," Chaeyoung breathed.
"You make it hard to refuse," I whispered back, her mouth half opening near my nose.
Chaeyoung grinned then gave me a quick kiss. "I'll come back tomorrow night. And we'll... train again... that would be our foreplay." I raised my eyebrows then her expression changed with a cheeky grin and a naughty glint in her eyes, "then I'll change my name to 'slut' after."
I gave a light huff, "Did I ever tell you that you make it hard to refuse?"
Chaeyoung nodded, "Yeah. You did."
The Death Dealer kisses me back while the clouds slowly covered the moon.
My gut churned and my throat tasted like bile as I teleported again and again, flicking from dagger to dagger. The moment Ignariel stepped forward, I vanished from sight and appeared behind it, slashing toward the back of his leg. It barely deflected the blow, snarling as it turned to counter, but I was already gone.
"Little pest!" Ignariel growled in frustration.
Teleport. Slash. Evade. Repeat.
Each blink through space tightened the coil that is twisting my gut. I pushed the bile and vomit back down my throat, but I didn’t let up. I needed this pompous, theatric asshole occupied.
While I danced with death, Sakura and Kazuha knelt beside Yunjin.
The chains of white flame coiled tightly, lashing out as they tried to repel their touch. Sakura raised the Temporal Vow, casting a sphere of golden light to hold the fire back, while Kazuha moved her arms and hands gracefully, willing Stillveil to carefully wrap around the bonds.
But they wouldn’t break.
“It’s like trying to tear apart a void,” Sakura muttered through clenched teeth.
“I feel nothing in the chains. They’re bound by emptiness,” Kazuha said. “Not just fire. How do you even break nothing?" She growled in frustration.
Yunjin’s voice rasped, barely audible, “By filling it first.”
The two angels looked at her.
“Passion,” Yunjin whispered with a gentle smile to her sisters. “It’s not just his flame. It’s mine too. Feel something... feel what sets you ablaze. Fill the emptiness. Feel — so that you can have something to break. That’s the only way you’ll free me.”
Stillveil pulsed with indecision. The Temporal Vow flickered.
Then—Sakura closed her eyes. And felt.
The warmth of memory. Her first descent. Her first song. The moment she realized angels could remember, and that memory could be beautiful even if it could painful. She remembered the times she sifted through the memories of stars and entire planets. She remembered lifetimes of what ifs and what could have beens, an eternity of choices made and not made, and the infinite consequences they caused.
These memories are not empty, they are all filled with what the beings felt, whether they be good or bad. History — time — is shaped by emotion, wars were started for less, death was given and taken for lesser, and life was breathed by even the lowest of creatures.
She remembered Seren, the time when they first met, really met — not some memory or vision she keeps asking whether it would be the one to unfold — but always, always under those cherry blossom trees when he and Kazuha freed her from her stasis. She remembered last night, the feeling of finally kissing him sent warmth all throughout her body that the Temporal Vow teased her until she fell asleep. Those were all real — the joy, the bliss — and she wouldn't have it any other way — and she certainly wouldn't want it erased or, in Ignariel's words — sanctified.
Kazuha took a breath and summoned grace—the dance, the laughter, the flicker of joy that once made her wings flutter without thought. She remembered love, not perfection. For it is love that makes things look perfect despite the imperfections. No dance is perfect, there is always something to improve, but it is also because of this that she loves to dance, to move. To feel the joy of moving, to feel the joy and awe of those who watch her. Mistakes are painful, shameful even, and erasing them is a truly tempting offer. But to also erase joy — the joy of doing something you love — that is unforgivable.
She remembered Seren holding back the Purity Wraith as she froze. She remembered walking with him, finally not alone as she moves with grace. She remembers the night she kissed him, how much she wanted to move her lips against Seren's for all eternity. He is the third that she loved in her eons long life, first was her sisters, then dancing — and she won't give them up, not like this, not for something as shallow as Ignariel's sanctity.
And their relics responded.
Stillveil shimmered with radiant heat. The Vow pulsed like a heartbeat in bloom. The chains around Yunjin cracked. The Seraph of Flame flexed her arms, ready to snap the bounds once they're weak enough.
But then—
Ignariel turned after dodging a slash from me.
And it spoke a single name.
“Seraphiniel!”
The hymn changed.
"What?" Sakura faltered - the Temporal Vow's glow dimmed in power.
"Did you honestly think I was the first to awaken among the Counters?" It bellowed.
"Of course not! It was Seraphiniel. The Prophet." It laughed as it reveled in Sakura's confusion.
Its head suddenly moved, evading my dagger to which I teleported to, hoping to strike the pompous bastard in the mouth to shut him up. Instead, it caught me by the wrist and held me dangling by it.
Its eyes now turned to me, one blazing with grey fire, one mockingly red. "When do you think she woke up, Sakura?"
Sakura panted, she's hyperventilating. Her focus shattered, her defenses faltered, Ignariel's flames blaze stronger around them leaving Kazuha alone to protect all three of them from the inferno.
"Sakura. It's trying to get under your skin," Kazuha said urgently, swirling Stillveil in a protective sphere around them, though it won't hold long.
"It's no use, sister," Yunjin croaks. "She's already sifting."
Sakura's eyes glowed an unnatural gold. The Temporal Vow pulsed, trying to stabilize and anchor Sakura in this timeline.
"Seraphiniel, she..." she stuttered in between heavy breaths, then she met my eyes as I'm being held dangling by Ignariel, "...she awakened when you were born. It took her 17 years to find you, and when she did..." she faltered.
"She did what?" I asked, knowing the answer but dreading the truth of it.
"She.." She hesitated. "She sent the Purity Wraiths to your village."
My whole world collapsed—like the ground vanished beneath me. But where rage should be, there was only numbness, a void. Ignariel's flames stripped me of my emotions at the very moment Sakura revealed what truly happened to my village, to my family.
Ignariel laughed, rough and ashy, "You see, Seraphiniel does not just revel in pulling the darkest memories out of a being. She revels in orchestrating them herself!" It laughed again, booming as it threw me to a nearby pillar, yet I felt no pain. Ignariel's power also erased what I should have felt physically.
"And how does it... feel... Solari?" It turned to look at me. "To feel nothing when you should have felt pain, sorrow, rage, vengeance? Isn't it better?"
I don't know. I don't know because I can't feel – just, a void.
Then the inferno breaches through Stillveil as Kazuha's strength finally breaks her. Kazuha screamed as she threw her body between the fire and Sakura, wrapping her obsidian wings around her as a last resort. Stillveil took the brunt, but the shockwave sent both angels tumbling backward.
Sakura knelt, eyes wide, shaken to her core. Kazuha lays prone, the floor beneath her littered with obsidian shards from her shattered wing.
Ignariel’s revelations had been more than physical—it was emotional. And now mine and Sakura’s resolve were shattering.
“Get up!” Yunjin shouted through the hoarseness of her voice—but her sisters can't move, one from a broken wing, the other from fear.
Even I was faltering, now. The teleportation wore me and the Compass thin. Every movement came slower. Every breath heavier. And the weight of the revelation finally bears down on me, Ignariel now allowing me to slowly feel the pain of everything.
Ignariel advanced towards Kazuha. I tried to teleport one last time, to put myself between Kazuha and Ignariel, but I had no strength left to throw my dagger.
Ignariel now revels. Arrogant. Confident of his victory. The flame in its hand roared.
Then—
BOOM.
The ceiling cracked.
Then shattered.
A column of raw pressure split the cathedral sky as holy fire and ash were hurled aside like paper in a storm. The hymn faltered, screeching in sudden disarray. Even Ignariel turned, startled.
From the sundered roof, a figure descended—slowly, steadily—as if gravity itself bowed to her will.
She wore blackened armor lined with silver etchings, engraved in ancient angelic script long since erased from Heaven’s records. Around her brow sat a barbed diadem—twisted iron laced with bleeding gold light. It pulsed with soundwaves that screamed and whispered in tandem.
The Fallen's eyes went wide with surprise, hope, and a kind of reverent fear while Ignariel's flame flickered hesitantly.
"Chaewon," Sakura gasped.
"How?" Kazuha winced in confusion.
Yunjin smirked, "About time," she exclaimed weakly.
"You!" Ignariel growled in disdain, "Why are you here, Archangel of Will?!"
"I am called something else now, thanks to you and your brethren," Chaewon replied, her voice brimming with confidence. "Now they call me The Hollow Voice. The Oracle of Chains."
Her presence sent a shudder of instinctive dread across the room. The very air stiffened with the authority she exuded.
Her boots met the ground—silent, final.
Ignariel recoiled half a step. Even the white flames hesitated, flickering like candles before a hurricane.
“I know that relic,” Ignariel murmured. “The Voice of Command.”
Chaewon raised her head.
The Crown atop her brow glimmered like a fractured sun—each spike humming with layered voices. Not hers. Not entirely.
“I shall now give my orders,” Chaewon said, her voice cold and strangely harmonic. “And you shall obey them.” More terrifying was how calmly she says it.
The moment she spoke, the hymn around Ignariel bent—off-key, dissonant. One of the burning chandeliers above shattered mid-air.
Ignariel’s tone twisted, "You betrayed Heaven. You exploited will like it was yours to give. You’re no better than them.”
“I gave Heaven a chance to remember what will is,” Chaewon replied. “You chose obedience. So now, I’ll show you what true obedience feels like.”
As she raised her hand, the soundscape shifted again—dozens of voices murmured beneath her own. A chorus of broken wills.
Ignariel steadied himself, “You would shackle your own kind to make a point?”
“For what you did to my sisters, I would unshackle the world if it meant breaking yours,” Chaewon whispered. Her eyes—dark, rimmed with embers—locked on Ignariel.
“Now kneel.”
The last word struck the room like a blade. The floor cracked. The chains binding Yunjin rattled. The very flame on Ignariel’s hands faltered as the Counter fell to one knee.
I staggered as the force of her voice rippled through the air. I felt her Command, but I didn't feel the need to obey. Even the Compass went quiet.
She turned slightly, just enough to look at me with curiosity. It's as if she was also expecting me to kneel. Kazuha's groans beside Sakura diverted her attention though. She turns at her crouched sister as she is shielding Sakura.
“Get up.”
Two words. Not loud. Not a Command. Still powerful.
Suddenly, my limbs moved as if renewed by a second wind. I stood up, Kazuha and Sakura slowly following suit. Sakura’s breath came sharply as the fog on her mind broke, yet the same can not be said for her heart. Kazuha rose, fueled by sheer momentum, her wing dropping obsidian shards on the marble floor.
And across the altar, Yunjin smiled through the burning altar.
“Thought you’d never show up,” she rasped.
Chaewon smirks before giving her one Command, "Break free."
Yunjin snapped her bounds as easily as one would snap a strand of straw.
Chaewon then looks at a kneeling Ignariel, "Be gone and never enter this city again. Crawl back to your sanctuary of ashes. Should you return, I shall command you to unmake your hymn from your own throat while you sing it."
Ignariel snarled in defiance. "Valamar will make you pay for this."
Chaewon smirked and slowly approached Ignariel. She does not walk, she floats, like the very thought of walking on the ground disgusts her. She lifts Ignariel's chin with one slender finger. "If Valamar comes.." she whispered, "he shall also follow my Commands."
Ignariel snarled one last time before vanishing in a flash of gray fire.
And at that moment after its disappearance, the mansion was quiet. I felt my body sway, adrenaline finally fading and the knot in my gut slowly unraveling. I barely observed Chaewon making her way to Yunjin and Sakura and Kazuha trudging towards me.
To prevent vomiting and embarrassing myself against four angels, my body chose to do the next most embarrassing thing — my vision blurred — until it finally darkened as I passed out.
Not the silence of peace, but the silence of something recently emptied.
Shops stood open, shelves stocked, and bakeries still exhaled the scent of bread. But the people—if you could call them that—moved like wind-up dolls. Blinking in slow unison. Speaking in hushed, identical phrases. Faces blank. Emotions absent. It was a city lived in but not alive.
"You can probably grab a slice of bread here without paying," the Compass whispered connivingly in my head.
"Don't give me ideas. We're in the presence of two angels," I snapped.
"Come on. One wouldn't hurt," the Compass urged.
"Damn it," I thought as I sneaked over to grab a loaf of bread. But before I could get my hands on the loaf, something snapped at my wrist. Stillveil, scolding me before slithering back to Kazuha who flashes me a mischievous smile. I then pointed at the Compass clipped on my belt, which earned a chuckle from her. Gosh, that sweet, childish sound of her chuckle.
"Sorry," I said, marching up to her.
"That was for last night," she whispered mischievously.
"Last night?" I blinked. "What did I do?"
Kazuha leans in close, "For Sakura's kiss," She whispered before walking ahead with a smirk towards Sakura, leaving me frozen and blushing.
"Kazuha - 1 : Seren - 0." The Compass mocks.
"At least, I got kissed by two angels. How are things going with Stillveil?" I mocked back.
"Asshole." The Compass bites back.
"Seren -1 : Compass - 0." I mocked triumphantly.
"What is this city called anyway?" I asked as we passed a florist who offered us a bouquet of wilted lilies and said, without inflection, “May your truth be pure.”
“Creepy,” I muttered as I caught up with the two Fallen. The Compass hums in agreement.
Sakura flourished a hand, sand swirled around the wilted lilies before regaining their color and springing back to life — the florist however, gave no reaction whatsoever.
"Dazkora," Kazuha replied.
"The Stone City in the old tongue. Also known as the city between two mountains," Sakura added.
It was indeed, both of those things. A stone city with towering walls and spires dwarfed only by the mountain ranges it is situated in between.
"This was a major trading city as it held the only direct mountain pass between the central plains and the eastern coast," Kazuha began, "if you are going from the west, passing through Dazkora is the fastest way to get to the coast without encircling the Altarian mountain range to the south."
"And traveling around north means passing through the barbarian tribes," I remarked.
Sakura and Kazuha nodded.
"What's wrong with this city anyway?" I asked as we passed a group of children who are swaying eerily in a circle.
“This city is under a hymn,” Sakura said softly, her fingers tightening around the Temporal Vow. “A passive verse. Low-frequency sanctification.”
"I can feel it, like a dome cast all over the city," the Compass remarked grimly. "Scratch that, it's a sphere, reaching even below the city sewers."
I echoed the Compass's words to the two angels.
Kazuha narrowed her eyes. “I feel it. It permeates the space all around us. Like a blanket of purification over every mind.”
"More like a prison," Sakura remarked.
"Still better than a tomb," I replied, earning a smirk from Kazuha.
"Could be yours if you're not careful," the Compass interjected, which I chose to ignore.
As we walked deeper, the air grew colder. Paler. Even the shadows recoiled.
Then we saw it.
A Purity Wraith.
It stood at the end of the street, robes stitched from pages of scripture, face featureless but luminous with sickly devotion. And it was watching us. Eyeless, yet we knew, it was staring right at us.
I reached for the Compass.
But it didn’t attack.
Instead... it bowed?
Then it turned, and walked.
“That’s... new,” I said.
“It's a trap,” Kazuha said.
“Let’s spring it,” Sakura finished.
We followed.
The Wraith led us past rows of frozen people who turned in eerie synchrony to face us. Some mouthed prayers. Others wept soundlessly. None intervened. And still the Wraith walked.
"Broken Enlightened?" I asked. "But they don't look burned." I remarked.
"Probably due to their proximity to Ignariel," Sakura deduced.
"You think he's really here?" I asked.
"If Yunjin is here, Ignariel's here. Only one of our Counters can hold us in place." Kazuha replied, Stillveil wrapping slowly around her protectively.
The Wraith led us to a clearing, in the middle were wrought-iron gates tangled in ivy and flame-blistered thorns and surrounded by a tall weathered stone wall that looked charred as if burned from the inside. Behind them loomed a manor—not grand, but solemn. Like a place built not to impress, but to kneel with your lips kissing the dirt.
The Wraith dissolved into ash as soon as the gates creaked open.
We all looked at each other. The angels immediately clasped at their relics while I tapped the Compass once before placing my hands on my daggers.
"Ready when you are, Seren," the Compass whispered in my mind. Its uncharacteristic seriousness makes my hair stand on edge a little straighter.
The manor loomed like a tomb. Its walls were veined with cracks that seemed to crawl with liquid fire, its windows stained with soot. The air shifted—not hot, but heavy. Like when ash falls after a volcanic eruption, soft, but with a weight that bears down on the skin and soul alike.
"Well, Seren. You got your tomb," Sakura comments dryly.
"Bad joke, Miss Angel of Memory," I quipped back.
"Yeah. Sorry."
We stepped through the threshold.
And the silence shattered.
Flames danced along the walls—pale and whispering, like they were souls remembering someone they used to be. The hymn swelled on our ears, strong, loud, and from all directions, like a chant that saps through our emotions. The interior was cathedral-like: high ceilings, flickering chandeliers, and an altar of scorched obsidian at its center.
And chained to it—
Her. Yunjin — once the Seraph of Flame, now the Seraph of Scorched Truth. The Ashen Flame, for she was indeed as white as ash. Only her hair remained red, defiant. She made being bound and tortured achingly beautiful — which just strengthened my resolve to rescue her.
Kazuha and Sakura tensed to rush - but we all knew it was a trap. She is the bait, and we'll fall hook, line, and sinker if we don't stay cautious. So we buried every instinct screaming at us to run at her and shatter her chains. We walked slowly inside the hall, our steps measured, deliberate.
Yunjin knelt at the altar, bound in bands of white flame that crawled across her limbs like reverent vines. Her head was bowed. The Ashen Ember Ring glowed faintly on her left ring finger, resisting, but barely. Stillveil uncoils, almost ready to rush towards the Ring, but Kazuha keeps her in check. The Ring itself flickered and sparked - like it remembered joy, then dimmed, like hope surrendering to ash.
Then the hymn reached a crescendo.
Louder. Harder. Choral. Mechanical. Hotter.
“Ignariel,” Sakura breathed.
The flames in the room seemed to gravitate as if to genuflect towards a figure stepping from the shadows beyond the altar. It was tall, cloaked in layers of white and bronze, it wore an ashy greyish red doublet, its face a porcelain mask cracked down the middle. It looked androgynous, the crack on its face wreathed in cold green fire that casts no heat. The same green flames wreathed its gloved hands, but it did not burn. It cleansed. Cold and slow.
Stillveil immediately unfurls protectively around Kazuha. The Temporal Vow shines and pulses consistently, ready for a battle. I drew my daggers and felt the Compass's encouraging hum.
Its voice rang out—not loud, but absolute. The flames around Yunjin flinched at the sound of Ignariel's voice, yet the Fallen remained unmoving.
“Welcome, deviant children. You are just in time for the sanctification.” Ignariel’s voice settled over the cathedral like a burial shroud—neither loud nor harsh, but final. Absolute. The kind of tone that didn’t seek to be believed, only obeyed.
The flames in the hall stilled.
Yunjin remained silent, her head bowed, as though caught between reverence and rebellion. The white flame that bound her pulsed in time with the hymn, like a heartbeat not her own.
Kazuha stepped forward. Stillveil hovered protectively around her like a serpent poised to strike.
“You’ve always been dramatic, Ignariel,” she said coldly. “Chains. Choirs. Fires. That mask.”
Ignariel tilted its head. “Dramatic?” It echoed, almost amused. “No. I am precise. I am necessary. You mistake sanctity for spectacle.”
The Compass growled in my mind. “Pompous asshole.”
I clenched my jaw. “Let her go.”
“Why would I?” Ignariel asked, hands folding serenely. “She was lost. I gave her clarity. Fire without purpose is just destruction. But a flame tempered by obedience—that becomes holy.”
“She’s not yours to mold,” Sakura stepped forward, her tone was calm, but not soft. “No one is.”
Ignariel regarded her with something akin to curiosity, “You of all people should understand. Memory is control. What we remember shapes what we believe. You, Angel of Memory, are a warden of perception, multiple perceptions. So why resist what I do?”
Sakura’s grip on the Temporal Vow tightened, “Because I remember what you did to the others. Seraphs turned to cinders for thinking, for feeling. For having memories that warm the heart.”
A flicker of fire passed through Ignariel’s mask crack, but its voice stayed level.
“They were weak. Fractured. You call it feeling—I call it rot. We were made to be more than emotional messes clawing for comfort in a broken world. I offer transcendence. You cling to chaos.”
Kazuha took a step closer, voice sharp, “You offer sterilization. A hymn that strips emotion, feeling, identity. A dance without thought, revelry, joy — love. What good is purity, what good is sanctity, if it means forgetting — losing, who you are?”
There was a silence then—brief, thick.
And then Ignariel replied:
“Peace.”
One word. One poison.
It echoed through the walls of the hall like a doctrine written in flame.
“You confuse peace with apathy,” I said, stepping forward now. “There’s no life in your kind of peace. Just obedience. Just emptiness wearing a smile.”
Ignariel’s head turned slightly. “You speak boldly for a mortal.”
“I’ve faced worse things than you.”
“You haven't faced anything like me and there are no people like me,” it corrected. “What you faced were fanatics drunk on righteousness. But I am not them. I do not scream my gospel—I whisper it, and the world leans in — and they bow," Ignariel raosed its arms like he was expecting us to bow to him.
"Say, Seren Solari," I can feel the smile beneath its cracked mask. "I can make you lose all the pain in your heart, the pain of losing everything, the shame of being useless, the dishonor of not being able to execute the duty you've trained all your life for. Just say the word, and with a snap, you won't feel the hurt anymore." It sounded gentle it was almost convincing — and I admit, I was nearly tempted to accept.
Suppressed memories clawed out, as if pulled out by Ignariel's words. I heard the words of a man with a great axe as he swings at me, "Dodge, nephew! Watch your step! You are your brother's shield! It does not mean you should take every swing head on!"
Another voice, sonorous and gentle, and I saw a man with a whetstone polishing a long sword, in its pommel was what looked like an amber gem with the image of the sunset, "You're the second son of our House, Seren," he said tenderly. "Your brother shall inherit the High Chair and you shall protect him, not just from any threats, but from himself as well."
Another image, another voice, youthful, energetic, intelligent, "King Julius Iskandar is a conqueror, brother, but also a savvy statesman. I can't wait to meet him!"
I was then pulled out of my thoughts when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I blinked and turned, Kazuha met me with an expression of alarm and concern. "Seren," she whispered cautiously. "You're walking towards it."
I swiveled my head, I was indeed a few steps ahead from where I was before.
"Don't let it get in you head, kid. It won't just strip your pain, but everything that makes you feel. And you'll be left as a shell of who you were," the Compass said.
"Thanks," I muttered, both to Kazuha and the Compass. Thankfully, Kazuha kept her hands on my shoulder.
Ignariel, watching the scene unfold, sighed in faux frustration. "Why did you have to do that, Kazuha? Just as things were getting... how would you describe it? Exciting," it said, and the flames in its mask seemed to grin wickedly.
Sakura suddenly raised a hand.
“Ignariel,” she said, more quietly now, “You weren’t always like this. I remember. I held your name in my Archive. Before you burned it. Before you sanctified yourself.”
A pause.
Even the hymn faltered for a breath.
“I remember the Flame of Compassion,” she said. “The way you knelt beside the broken, not to purify them—but to mourn.”
Something cracked—not in Ignariel’s mask, but in the air. Like heat bending light. The porcelain surface trembled for the briefest moment.
Sakura mentioned a name and Ignariel flinched.
“That name is ash, burned in an era where memory and time is inconsequential and irrelevant. I was reforged, given a purpose, to sanctify this world, to remove the curse, the blight that is passion and emotion, for it does nothing but cause pain! Pain and conflict. Tell me Sakura, isn't that what we all wanted? An end to conflict? An end to needless suffering caused by this... this human trait called 'feeling'! I made a vow when I burned that name, and that is to see the world burn if it does not bow to order, to the peace that I offer,” it growled.
“No,” Sakura whispered. “You buried it. But you still hear it. That’s why the hymn has to be so loud. It drowns the whispers, the whispers of who you once were, it is still there, underneath your mask.”
Another silence. Another crack.
Yunjin stirred.
A flicker of red flared in her hair. The Ashen Ember Ring pulsed once like a heartbeat.
Ignariel raised a hand—and the hymn surged again, louder, suffocating.
“You remember wrong,” it said, more brittle now. “I have nothing to mourn. Ashes do noy deserve to be mourned.”
“You lie,” Sakura replied, voice rising with sudden fury. “You lie to us, to her, and worst of all—to yourself!”
Stillveil coiled tight. The Temporal Vow thrummed like a war drum.
I felt the Compass shake on my belt, not in fear—but anticipation.
Ignariel stepped forward.
“If you will not kneel,” it said, “then you will burn, and no one, not a single thing in this world, will mourn your ashes.”
White flame bloomed from its palms like blooming judgment.
And Yunjin opened her eyes.
They burned—red, gold, and something deeper. Not holy. Not pure.
Defiant.
She stood, still bound by the altar.
And for the first time, Ignariel’s voice wavered:
“…You should not be able to stand.”
Yunjin smiled. “Then maybe you should sit,” she taunted with a voice so dry and hoarse it hurt my throat just listening to it.
She faces her sisters. "To me, Kazuha, Sakura, free me from these bounds!"
The two angels rushed beside their sister.
Ignariel moved to intercept, but I threw my dagger at it, teleporting to its location just as it was about to swat it away. Caught by surprise, I scored a hit with my other dagger squarely on its mask.
Ingariel staggered before facing me. Its mask broken by the left eye, exposing a socket filled with cold, gray, flames.
"Your opponent is me," I stood in between Ingariel and the angels, holding both my daggers. The Compass humming alive in my belt.
"You know we can't beat him," he said.
"Yeah. We just have to hold him off until Kazuha and Sakura frees Yunjin," I replied.
"Well, that we could do," The Compass says back with confidence.
"So, shall we go to battle, partner?" I grinned.
"Gladly, partner," the Compass replied as Ingariel summoned blades made of green flame in his hands.
"Dramatic asshole." The Compass and I said in unison as I threw a dagger at him and prepared for the tug in my gut before I teleported.
Nestled in a hollow between burnt hills, it stood silent under the midday heat. Roofs caved in. Ash clung to every surface like a memory that refused to be forgotten. There were no bodies. No cries. Only the strange stillness of a place that should’ve been alive.
"We'll rest here," Sakura said. “Just for a few hours.”
Kazuha nodded, but not without suspicion. Stillveil twitched gently at her side, never fully at ease. I scouted the perimeter — collapsed fences, half-burnt effigies of unknown gods, and dried blood that hadn’t yet drawn flies. But nothing moved.
Not yet.
We made camp inside what could have been once a chapel or a temple. Stained glass now shattered into amber shards on the floor as the boards creaked softly where we step. Kazuha sat near the altar, eyes half-lidded, brushing her hands gently along Stillveil. Sakura leaned against a wall, her hand resting on the Temporal Vow, tracing lines in its cracked surface absently.
"I don't like this place." The Compass whispered in my head.
"The Compass says it doesn't like this place," I echoed for the others to hear.
"Neither do I," Sakura replied, "but the Compass does not like everything but Stillveil." She jokes lightly, earning a soft chuckle from Kazuha while Stillveil pulses faintly as if... embarassed? I wasn't sure, then again, I never am with these relics. "And it pointed us here," she added.
"You snitching on me, kid?" the Compass threatens me non-threateningly.
I chuckled. "If I did, you'll know, we're stuck together every second of every minute of every hour." I quipped. "Or you're probably just that obvious." I added teasingly.
"Well if not you, then.... oh I see..." The Compass seems to have come to a conclusion, a conclusion which I conclude was not very good.
"Its that pendant. That damn Temporal Vow is gossiping on me." He whispers, again, non threateningly. "When I get my needle on that bastard's... " I interrupted him with a chuckle.
"Come on Compass, we have first watch, and I'll have to listen to you dribble about your non existent lovelife." I teased as I took position near the chapel's doors.
"Oh. Obnoxious are we. Just because you were kissed by a hottie of an angel while the other one is aching to have her turn does not give you the right to step on my heart."
"You don't have a heart, you're a compass."
"My soul has one!" He replied indignantly. "And it aches for Stillveil. Oh to be wrapped by those soft silver fabric contrasted by the black fabric's roughness." He shifts tone like a beggar kid admiring a princess she can't have.
I chuckled. "You know, if the Temporal Vow is snitching on you, I don't blame it. And what do you mean by Sakura aching for her turn?"
"Only seems fair that I snitch on the Temporal Vow's owner."
"The Temporal Vow's not snitching on you, Compass." I said in frustration as I laid my bags on the wooden floor.
"Do you have evidence?" The Compass argued.
"Do YOU have evidence?" I countered.
"Compasses always point in the right direction, kid."
"I'm pretty sure that's irrelevant."
"Overruled."
"What?!"
"Anyway, back to Sakura. Haven't you seen how she looks at you since Kazuha kissed you?" He whined like a gossiping old lady.
I took a glance at Sakura as I sat down on the floorboards. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second, a fraction which once again felt like hours before she broke eye contact and everything seemed to flow right again.
"So, what do you think?" The Compass asked like a giddy puppy.
"I think you're full of crap, Compass."
"Hey! I'm just trying to be a good needleman!"
I chuckled as we settled in a comfortable silence, too comfortable.
That’s when I heard it.
A hum.
Low. Melodic. Alien. Unholy.
It was followed by a heat, like hot ash pricking the skin.
It didn’t come from outside.
It came from under the floorboards.
I unsheathed my dagger and tapped twice against the wooden beam near Sakura. Her eyes opened immediately. Kazuha was already standing.
The hum grew louder.
No. It wasn’t a hum. It was a hymn.
"Pain is pride. Rage is rot. The Flames of emotion must be expunged."
The floor collapsed — and they rose from beneath us — hands clawing out of the wood and soil, faces once human now stretched by something not their own. Villagers, dressed in scorched robes, branded by Blightflame sigils that pulsed faintly beneath their skin. Their eyes glowed with hollow light, and their mouths sang the same twisted melody.
"Purify the Fallen. Burn the rebel’s voice. Drown the fire of emotions. Turn their legacy to ash."
"Broken Enlightened!" Kazuha hissed as she whirled forward. Stillveil flashed like moonlight through smoke, swirling protectively around her in streaks of black and silver as she swayed slowly, Fallen and relic both poised for battle.
Sakura shouted a warning, but it came a second too late.
A new presence spilled into the room — silent and vast, and it seemed to suck off the oxygen from the room.
A Purity Wraith.
It did not shimmer like the others. It was skeletal-white, wrapped in flame so pale it seemed made of memory. Its fire did not burn. It bled, like lava flowing down a volcano. I felt my emotions retreat, like they were being pushed down by invisible hands. My grip on the daggers faltered.
Kazuha cried out, stumbling back.
"They’re not just Broken!" Sakura gasped. "They’re being purged from the inside out."
"By who?" I managed to choke out. The Wraith turned its head, slowly, too slowly.
"You burn for her. Her fire now burns for another." The Wraith began, its voice dry and lamenting. "You carry her sorrow — after it's done with her, she won't have need of her emotions." The voice is haunting, every word seemed to burn its way right through my ears.
The voice didn’t come from the Wraith.
It came from all of them.
A dozen villagers, speaking in perfect unison.
"She is not the fire. She is the fuel in the altar. And the Flame Without Pain sings to her soul." The chorus chanted.
Sakura’s eyes widened. "Ignariel."
The name hit like a firestorm.
Even Kazuha froze for a breath too long. Stillveil trembled.
The Wraith moved then — not with rage, but with certainty. It struck the chapel’s floor and a wave of pale flame washed outward. I felt my anger weaken. The grief I carried for my home felt distant, fogged. All my emotions felt slowly being burned away.
Kazuha staggered.
She looked at me, eyes wide. "I can't feel—"
Her voice caught. Stillveil dimmed.
"Throw your dagger to Kazuha! Now!" The Compass shrieked in my mind.
"What?! Why would I?"
"Just trust me kid!"
I trusted the Compass and threw my blade at Kazuha. I saw her face contort in fear, the question in her mind was so clear to me — is this the betrayal the Broken envisioned?
Time seemed to slow down even without Sakura's intervention as I watched the dagger twirl in the air towards Kazuha — then I felt a tug in my gut and a flash of light blinded me for a split second. When my vision settled, I was in front of Kazuha, my thrown dagger back in my grip.
"What the hell?" I exclaimed groggily.
"You're welcome." The Compass exclaims weakly. Did it seemed, exhausted? No time to worry about it now when we're surrounded by a score of Broken Enlightened and one burning Purity Wraith.
Sakura manifested in front of us and threw a time barrier between us and the Wraith, but even she was pale. “It’s burning our why — the reason we move forward," she exclaimed weakly.
I pulled her behind me. "We have to get out—"
"She hears the Hymn now," the villagers whispered. "And it soothes her. She believes the pain was always a lie and soon, she will believe that emotions are the bane of existence.
Then — Kazuha screamed.
It was not fear.
It was rage being suffocated — then forced to be released.
Stillveil ignited again.
Barely. Faintly. Kazuha drops to one knee.
The Wraith lurched forward — hands glowing with that sanctified flame — and touched Sakura’s arm. She gasped as her golden shimmer dimmed. Her breath stilled.
"Allow us to cauterize what makes you weep, we shall snuff out what makes you burn," the cultists whispered.
"Back off!" I shouted, slamming my dagger through the Wraith’s chest.
It did not scream.
But it shivered.
A moment of hesitation. Then laughter.
Then, Sakura finally has had enough — she dropped a time-fracture in the room, the Temporal Vow working overtime — slowing the cultists and the Wraith. Kazuha lunged at the Wraith, Stillveil wrapping itself around it and locking it in place.
I slashed at its throat. The slash felt rough, like slashing through sand and ash.
Final.
The Wraith burst into cold flame — no sound, just a sigh.
Then the villagers writhed. The same ashen figures peeling their way out of their skin. They glowed red, dangerously red, before I registered Stillveil wrapping around the three of us while the Temporal Vow's light shone bright gold from within our silken bubble. Another flash and we were outside the chapel just as it exploded in a fiery inferno.
We were breathing heavily as the structure collapsed to ashes.
"I think... I think we should get out of here..." I panted.
"I think so too..." Sakura replied.
We rushed forth as the silence returned and a strange clarity settled as the night creeps at the twilight sky.
Kazuha leaned on her knees, panting — Stillveil was dull again. Sakura sat on the dirt road, clutching at the Temporal Vow, checking if its cracks have worsened. I reached for the compass, its needle ticking faintly to the north east, its light dimmed, exhausted.
"She's losing herself," Sakura whispered. "Yunjin’s Blightflame… it's not her own anymore."
I sheathed my blades slowly.
"She's being manipulated," Kazuha concluded. "Used."
Sakura nodded. “By Ignariel. That... thing wants her fury purified. Wants to turn her into something else.”
“Into a vessel,” Kazuha spat. “No rage. No emotion. No purpose.”
A single remaining villager stirred from the ashes of the chapel. His lips moved slowly.
"The Flame Without Pain is coming."
We kept our eyes on it as we backed off slowly and away from the village.
We stepped into the night.
Stars watched.
And for the first time since we began this journey, I felt something worse than fear — I felt hollow.
------------
We made camp by a river that night. We thought it made sense as we were being chased by fire entities. The wind was quiet. The sky wide. Stillveil hung like a curtain over Kazuha’s shoulders, comforting and no longer tense. The Temporal Vow pulsed faintly in Sakura’s lap, its usual golden shimmer dimmed to a tired glow.
The Compass was silent.
Even it had nothing to say after what happened at the chapel although I had a lot of questions for him — like what the hell was that teleporting thing when I threw my dagger?
We sat in a triangle around the fire — not close enough to touch, but close enough to feel the weight we each carried.
It was Sakura who broke the silence.
“Ignariel,” she murmured, staring into the flames, “should not exist anymore.”
Kazuha stirred. “But it does.”
“Yes,” Sakura said, voice flat. “Because someone kept singing its name long enough for the hymn to be heard again.”
Sakura sighed wearily, "Perhaps, our fates are tied together, after all."
I tilted my head. “What is this 'it', exactly?”
Sakura didn’t answer right away.
So I pressed.
“And what did it mean? When it called Yunjin the fuel? When it said she wasn't the fire?”
Kazuha’s eyes flicked toward Sakura. She didn’t speak either. Only waited.
Finally, Sakura sighed.
“You’ve seen Wraiths — creatures of suffering and rot, born from unresolved pain. They were chaos made flesh.”
"Then there are those who made those Wraiths against us during our rebellion. Five they were who opposed us - one for each of us who fell — a Counter." Kazuha added. "Ignariel must have been spurred to action after mine and Sakura's awakening."
"So you mean, there are four others like it? Meant to counter one of you?" I asked.
They both nodded, dread visible in their eyes. I don't need magic to read that they are thinking about their respective Counter.
"So, about this Ignariel," I said, trying to focus on the problem at hand.
“Ignariel was obssessed with order. The wrong kind. He believes emotions are the cause of chaos — and stripping it from the world means finally establishing absolute order.” Sakura answers.
"And Yunjin thrives the stronger her emotions are — desire, passion, rage, love. Anything that pushes people to do something irrationally is her domain. This is why Ignariel was the perfect foil for her." Kazuha added.
My temple furrowed as I frowned. “That sounds—”
“Contradictory? Like how Kazuha is both stillness and motion?” Sakura gave a tight smile. “Exactly. Ignariel believed the world could be made clean if it burned everything imperfect from the inside. It hunted emotions. Joy, desire, anger, guilt. Any deviation from its doctrine of stripped emotions — ‘Cold Flame,’ it called it.”
I remembered the hymn, the pale fire that hollowed me from the inside out. How it drained us of will, of fury.
I shivered.
“So it’s... brainwashing Yunjin?”
“Worse,” Kazuha muttered. “It’s sanctifying her.”
Sakura nodded slowly. “Blightflame.. wasn't always Blightflame. It was the Flame of Defiance born of Yunjin’s rebellious tendencies. The Silver City called it rebellion, she called it freedom. Her rage. Her sorrow. Emotions that we were forbidden to feel, or at the very least — told to suppress in the Silver City. But now that flame is… shifting. This cult calls her the ‘Scorched Truth,’ but Ignariel is trying to carve a cleaner version of her. To make her a vessel for its truth.”
"That having emotions is unnecessary." I murmured.
Both Fallen nodded.
I leaned back, eyes to the stars.
“And the relics?” I asked after a beat. “What even are they?”
That question made Sakura tense — just slightly, but I caught it. Kazuha noticed too. Stillveil twitched at her side.
“I mean,” I continued, softer, “I’ve been fighting with the Compass long enough to know it’s not just a tool. It talks. It protects. Sometimes it feels like it… remembers things I don’t. But it was the first time it... did magic in combat. Like, teleporting me to where my dagger was, I've never done that before. We've never done that before.” I said, placing a hand on the Compass.
"Relics all have special abilities. They manifest only when their bond with their wielder is strong." Sakura smiled at me, that sweet, gentle smile which makes my heart melt. "You should be proud of yourself for bonding with a relic and have that bond be strong enough to unleash its ability. It will only grow stronger from here on out, you and the Compass." She said, placing her hand over mine and giving it a squeeze. I looked at her eyes and there it was again, the feeling that time seems to slow down to a crawl every time our eyes meet.
“Stillveil controls gravity and space.” Sakura looked at Kazuha, breaking our eye contact and returning time to its usual flow. “Its powered by her movements, the more graceful she is, the more powerful Stillveil becomes.”
Kazuha lifts a hand, Stillveil flutters and dips low, as if to bow.
"That's why you were weakened at the Chapel." I realized. "The Wraith pinned you down." Kazuha didn’t move her eyes melancholically watching the flames.
“And the Temporal Vow?” I asked.
Sakura hesitated.
“It allows me to control time.” She said flatly.
I gave her a look.
"Fine." She relents. "The more I control time, the more I... lose myself... I might start thinking like I'm living in another timeline, planting memories I might have lived if things turned out slightly differently. Versions of me from other possible timelines might attempt to crawl out of me. The Temporal Vow, stabilises that, but if its exhausted..." I let her words hang, understanding what she means and recalling the after images that were trying to emerge from her back when we released her from her stasis. I then observed the Temporal Vow pulse faintly, as if sighing.
“And the Compass?” I asked, staring down at the device clipped to my belt. Its needle twitched once, as if it heard me.
“That one...” Sakura trailed off, then glanced at me. “I don’t know. Not fully.”
The Compass hums faintly, as if reflecting my disappointment.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“I’ve looked through dozens of timelines. The Compass appears in nearly all of them, but never with an origin. Only function.”
“What function?”
“Balance,” she said. “Judgment. Guidance. It doesn’t fight, most of the time. Usually, it chooses and guides.”
I frowned. “Chooses what?”
She looked away.
That was answer enough.
I wanted to push, to press the edge of that silence, but Kazuha shifted suddenly.
“Ignariel’s weakness,” she said, changing the subject. “You said it couldn’t stand emotion.”
“Uncontrolled emotion,” Sakura clarified. “It thrives on control. Uniformity. Doctrine. But the raw, unfiltered kind — passion, joy, grief, rage — it can’t sanctify those. That’s why it needs Yunjin broken first.”
“So what do we do?” I asked.
Sakura opened her hand. The Temporal Vow flared faintly, then pulsed once.
“We remind her who she was. Before the hymn. Before the flame.”
“We make her feel again,” Kazuha said, eyes shadowed. “Even if it burns us.”
We fell into silence again. But it wasn’t empty.
It was watchful.
Like the night was holding its breath.
---
The fire crackled softly. Kazuha fell asleep first, head tilted toward her shoulder. Stillveil shimmered faintly at her side.
Sakura sat across from me, not looking at the stars, nor the flames.
She was watching me.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I asked quietly. “About any of this.”
Sakura didn’t answer immediately.
Then she said, “Because once you know, you can’t unknow. And the more you know..."
"You don't need to protect me, Sakura," I interjected softly, "if I am to walk this path with you, I'll need to know everything that I need to know."
Sakura merely sighed and nodded yet hesitation remained in her face.
I decided to change the subject, "Your counterpart, the one created to foil you..."
"Seraphiniel, The Clockwound Eye." She says silently, almost with... reverence?
"Yeah. Him. Her? Or it?"
Sakura chuckles melodiously, "Her."
I nodded, "How is her time different from yours?"
Sakura considers the question before sighing heavily. "My time... frees. It finds suppressed memories and guides one how to be free of that burden. Seraphiniel..." she paused, ".. her time torments. It rips out your darkest memories and lets you relive it, although she alters it, each version darker than the last."
"So why didn't you?" I asked.
Sakura turned to me. Her golden eyes inquisitive with curiosity. "Why didn't I what?"
"Find my suppressed memories, guided me to be free of it." I replied.
"It's... not yet time." She answered weakly.
"That's convenient." I replied and felt the Compass hum in agreement.
"It's complicated, Seren."
"Again, very convenient." I said in a mix of irritation and sarcasm.
"A memorywalk... takes time." She said with a heavy sigh. "It is time we don't have, yet." She sighs, sounding almost disappointed in herself for disappointing me. "I promise once we have enough time, I'll sift through your memories," she said gently as she turns her head, her eyes looking at me pleadingly and I felt my irritation and annoyance fade like sand on the wind.
"I'll hold you to that," I said.
"What if, just, what if, Seraphiniel is working with Ignariel?" I asked after a brief moment.
She then turns her gaze towards the night sky. "Ignariel's already a problem for all of us. We don't need to worry for another one to be placed in the mix," she said. The implication was clear, we can't beat two Counters with how we are right now.
"Fair." I said, although I get the feeling she's not telling everything.
I looked at the Compass.
Its needle spun slowly, like it was thinking.
A silence settled over us, comfortable yet heavy — and a thought was eating itself inside of me. "There was something the Compass said..." I began, I felt the Compass vibrate slightly, the nosy bastard. "... about you.." I continued awkwardly. "After Kazuha and I.. uh..." I stuttered, thinking back to when Kazuha kissed me and the Compass saying that Sakura is waiting for her turn. Sakura tilts her head curiously to face me, her golden eyes reflecting the flames.
"Actually.. nevermind.." I said. And as I turned to face Sakura, I was met with her lips, soft and sweet like Kazuha, but also fragrant, like cherry blossoms in full spring bloom. Time stretched as our lips connect. A part of me screams to let it stretch forever until Sakura pulls away, her gaze avoids mine but her teeth bites her lower lip.
"You can forget that if you want, or you can think that's just another Sakura from another timeline," she whispered shyly, clutching the Temporal Vow in her chest before lying down with her back facing me.
Forget the kiss... impossible, I thought. Not even if time ends this very moment.
"One lucky bastard..." I was broken from my trance as I heard a faint whisper in my head. I chuckled and placed a hand on the Compass, hoping that this first watch won't be as eventful as the last one.
Hey fellow ITZY writer! Have you considered posting your story on Fanprose? It's a community-driven platform made by and for kpop fic writers :)
Hey there!
You're like the third person to tell me that. 😅
Actually, I already made an account. Just trying to find the time (and energy😁) to post. Maybe after I finish writing the next chapter then I'll post everything here and there.
We continued our journey north — just as the Compass pointed.
That was when we met the man.
Or what was left of one.
He stood alone at a crossroads where the trees had been scorched to their roots. Charcoal branches stretched skyward like pleading arms. The earth beneath our feet was cracked with heat. Not fresh, but recent enough for us to feel the heat with our feet and for the smell of soot to linger.
He wore the tattered robes of a priest or a rebel commander — hard to tell which. Symbols of faith burned away, replaced by sigils etched in ash. His skin was pale, marked with veins that glowed faintly red. His eyes were worse: twin cinders burning cold, like someone placed a burning piece of coal inside his sockets.
Sakura stopped first. Her hand clutched the Temporal Vow, her finger running along its cracked edges.
"He's been touched," she said. "But not consumed."
"Touched by what?" I asked cautiously. No answer came.
Kazuha drew Stillveil slowly, the sash wrapping around her protectively.
The Compass, well.. I don't expect anything much from it anymore to be honest, combat-wise.
I stepped forward before either of them could strike. "Who are you?"
The man perked up, head tilting like a curious bird. His voice was hoarse, like his throat dried up, or hot ash was shoved down his throat.
"We are the Broken Enlightened. Branded by her flame. Freed by it."
"Her?" I asked in confusion.
"No," Kazuha murmured softly. "Impossible."
"Yunjin," Sakura breathed.
He smiled.
"She burned away the veil. Showed us truth: Peace is cowardice. Forgiveness is hypocrisy. Mercy is betrayal. Passion is unnecessary. Emotions are sacrilege — the highest form of impurity." He took a step closer. I held my ground, my hands wrapped around my daggers.
"This is not Yunjin's philosophy," Kazuha observed with a look of disgust.
"She speaks still, through us. The Seraph of Scorched Truth," the old man wailed.
I glanced at Kazuha. Her jaw was clenched, her eyes locked on the man with something too deep for rage.
"Yunjin wasn't like this," she said.
"No," Sakura murmured. "She was fire with purpose. Now..."
"Now she sees clearly," the man whispered. "She remembers who left her. Who turned away. Who said 'enough' when justice needed fury." He looked at the two Fallen beside me, as if emphasizing them. "There is no greater betrayal than those committed by her sisters." He growled.
"We didn't..." Sakura began.
"We fell.. together.." Kazuha stuttered
"Did you? And yet, she burned.. she burned alone... even now..." The man said with a gentleness unbecoming of his words, like he pities Yunjin.
He turned his eyes to me.
"And you. The Compass-bearer. The tether of balance. It will burn in her presence."
"Blightflame." The Compass buzzed at my side. Quietly, then louder. Like it couldn’t decide whether to scream or run. I ran a hand over it, hoping it recognizes the gesture of comfort.
"You're wrong," I said. "Truth isn't rage. It doesn't need fire to be heard."
His eyes narrowed.
"And yet you carry weapons. You kill to survive. How many Wraiths did you kill in your journey? Do you even know why you're killing?"
"They would've killed me!"
"Just like how they killed your family." He bit back, and memories flood my mind once again — bloodied claws, a sword steaming with mud, or is it brown blood. I pressed a palm on my temples as I fell on one knee, reeling from the memories I chose to suppress.
The Fallen looked at me in confusion, curiosity, and realization. Sakura in particular looked at me with sheer compassion.
"You kill for revenge," the man continued. "Revenge is Her Domain, for what is vengeance if not passion unleashed! You woke her up the moment you killed your first Wraith in rage." His revelation hit like a truck, more to the Fallen rather than to mine.
The first Wraith I killed was the day I woke up on the banks of Lake Aldaria. It ambushed me in the forest as I walked east — the direction the Compass told me to go. My body went on auto pilot and before I knew it, it dissolved in a puddle of steaming brown blood upon my feet, my daggers stained with the same substance.
"She was already awake?" Sakura murmured.
"Then why was I the first—?" Kazuha muttered.
The man was not done.
"And yet, for all the Wraiths you killed, you know one can take you out eventually. So you hide behind her" — he nodded at Kazuha — "because you trust her strength. But not her heart."
That pierced something.
Stillveil recoiled.
Kazuha flinched.
"Enough," she said sharply.
But the man started walking forward. Sakura moved beside me, her hand glowing gold with temporal shimmer. I drew my blades.
"I see betrayal forming already," he said, laughing softly. "The Flame does not lie. It shows what we refuse to admit."
Then, he struck.
Ash erupted from his fingertips. Not fire — Blightfire. Cold. Gray. It didn’t burn flesh.
It burned trust.
The world tilted. Sakura gasped, stumbling, her eyes shifted from golden sand to ash red. The Temporal Vow pulsed brightly as if to protect and heal her.
I saw flashes:
Kazuha walking away from me. Sakura’s eyes turning cold. The Compass shattering.
And Kazuha — her obsidian wings ablaze and melting, whispering: "You were always going to leave me, weren’t you?"
Sakura was beside her — but it was not the Sakura I know. Her eyes were dark, like black sand as her mouth moved almost mechanically, "You said you're going to piece me back together, instead you let me crumble into sand," she said with mixed rage and melancholly.
"Snap out of it, Seren!" The Compass's voice echoed in my head. "He's only showing you a possible future. The future is not set in stone, you can ask Sakura that."
"But it could happen...", I replied, my will slowly being sapped away from me.
"That is why I am here, Seren," he replied comfortingly, "to guide you as long as you would have me."
My resolve was strengthened with his. words as shook the illusion off. "This isn't truth. It's poison." I growled.
"Truth is poison." the man spat. "And She is the antidote."
Sakura whispered a phrase, and the Temporal Vow pulsed. Her eyes returning to its golden hue as gold light flared and gold sand whirled around the Fallen. "Lies." She growled.
"Is it, Angel of Memory?" The man mocks. "You see through timelines, tell me if the vision I saw is not impossible." He challenged.
Kazuha stepped forward, Stillveil glowing. But her hand trembled.
Not from fear.
From something deeper.
I moved to stand at her side.
She flinched.
"Don’t," she whispered. "Not now."
I looked at her, confused. Hurt.
"What do you mean?"
Her voice cracked. "Not when you might leave. Not when I want to trust you."
The Blightfire had touched her too.
She was seeing betrayal in me.
"Kazuha," I said. "I’m here. I’m not leaving."
Stillveil vibrated in her hand. The thread reached for mine. A pulse.
And then, Kazuha closed her eyes.
"Lie or not," she said, "I choose action. I choose..." Kazuha growled, like moving was difficult, heavy. "I... choose.. to... move!"
And she moved — no, she danced.
Faster than the corrupted man could react, Stillveil coiled and struck, warping space around the man. A figure made of ash was sucked out from the man to the ripples in space Stillveil conjured as Kazuha spun elegantly around him. It peeled from its skin in patches, then was ripped from his body, like he was covered by it. It was faceless, except for a hollow mouth which burned bright red. And it writhed, fighting Kazuha's power, trying to claw its way back to the man.
Sakura cast a wave of suspended time which swirled around the ashen figure, freezing it in temporal stasis, and I rushed in, daggers flashing, delivering the finishing blow to the figure as it explodes in red hot ash. The man collapses, hollow and empty.
We didn’t kill him. Not quite. But we severed the Blightfire’s grip. The ash-markings faded. His empty black eyes raised towards the sky, whispering her name like a prayer until his voice faded in the wind and his throat croaked nothing but ashes — "Yunjin."
Afterward, we sat in silence.
Sakura offered me a canteen. I drank. Kazuha didn’t speak.
And the Broken Enlightened crumbled to ash.
--------------
Kazuha sat beside me when the stars were out and the world was quiet with only the light of our campfire between us while Sakura sat quietly close by.
We were not touching — but we were close enough.
"You don't have to.." I began sensing an awkward conversation about to start.
"That flame... it shows you the betrayal you most fear," she interjected. "I feared it would be from you."
I looked at her.
"What did you see?"
"Your blades.." she began. "You wielding them over me and Sakura. Stillveil torn and the Temporal Vow shattered on your feet."
"I will never.." I began again only to be interrupted.
"It doesn't matter. I'll just kill you the moment you do." She said, a hint of the Kazuha I first met resurfacing, cold, always in motion.
"Consider me warned. But I promise I won't.." I was not able to finish my sentence as her lips crashed gently on mine. She was soft.. and sweet. The sensation seemed like gravity pulling me down a cliff — and I wanted to keep falling — to keep falling down the abyss named Kazuha. She moved her lips like she never wanted to stop... I know I never wanted to stop.
She pulled away before the ringing in my ears could deafen me entirely. Her eyes met mine, hauntingly unmoving, hauntingly beautiful. Stillveil fluttered at her side, pulsing silver as if saying "finally".
My eyes searched hers, asking silent questions.
She didn’t answer.
But her hand brushed mine.
And didn’t pull away as she laid down, tucked her wings, Stillveil wrapped around her like a blanket, and drifted off to sleep.
Across the fire, Sakura watched with a faint smile on her lips. She held the Temporal Vow in her chest and felt it pulsed to the rhythm of her heart. Unusually fast it was, we both seemed to realize.
Was she excited at what she witnessed? She closed her eyes, willing the Temporal Vow to show her alternate timelines... timelines where it was her lips who crashed on Seren. She'll give this night to Kazuha, afterall, she has all the time in the world.
"You lucky bastard." The Compass whispers in my head, breaking me from my bliss.
I watched the flames lick off the firewood and was immediately reminded of the Broken Enlightened — and then — Yunjin.
"Time broke here." The Compass's sudden surge of telepathy made me jump, earning a curious look from Kazuha. We made the briefest of eye contact and is that... amusement in her eyes? And a hint of a faint smile? That's two smiles if I'm right — not that I'm counting.
I pushed the thought to move to more pressing matters, mainly, my talking guide of a Compass coming out of retirement from the silent treatment.
"Oh. So now you decide to talk." I berated the Compass telepathically. "Could've used some divine guidance back when I was talking to Kazuha. What were you doing? Hitting on Stillveil?" I jabbed in irritation.
"No. Too starstruck to talk to her. Do you know that she's a celebrity even among relics? Those silver streaks made my needle spin uncontrollably back then." It remarked with sarcastic adoration. "Too bad she turned dark after Kazuha's fall. But hey, the two-toned silver and black streaks suit her better if I dare say so myself." The Compass quips back snarkily.
I rolled my eyes. I honestly was not able to comprehend what this relic is on, sometimes — like right now — it's this annoying trinket that I want to throw at the nearest cliff, and sometimes it offers guidance that borders on sagely. "Anyway. What do you mean by 'Time broke here'?" I asked.
"I meant literally kid, just use your eyes and you'll see what I mean." The Compass replied.
I looked, really looked, and immediately understood what it meant. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and the air smelled like spring had just taken its first breath.. and stopped.
Kazuha points to an old-marble archway half-buried in ivy, half-whispering something forgotten. Without a word, we made our way towards it.
"Uh kid. Just so you know." The Compass starts.
"What?" I answered in mild annoyance.
"Once we step past this archway, I would be...." the Compass pauses to my confusion as we stepped past the archway.
"Would be what?" I asked, tapping its face with a knuckle.
Literally, its needle stopped moving mid-glow, mid-hum, as if the very idea of direction had gone on break.
“Hello? Magical snark machine?” I muttered out loud, tapping it.
Nothing.
“He can’t help you here,” Kazuha said, her voice soft, her hands stroking Stillveil, its usual silver and black glow also ceased. “This place… rejects motion.”
The temple before us looked untouched by time. Blossoms hung in the air, caught mid-fall. A koi pond shimmered perfectly, no ripples despite the wind as a koi was frozen mid jump out of the water. A chime swayed, but made no sound.
Something about it made my skin crawl in the gentlest way possible.
"If it rejects motion then.." I wondered, my eyes fixing themselves on hers.
"Yes." Kazuha replied. "It rejects me. Motion needs time to, well, move." She finishes.
I nodded as I took another look at the temple. “It's beautiful,” I said.
“It's a prison,” Kazuha replied.
"That's better than a tomb." I replied grimly.
Kazuha smirks softly. "Can't argue with that."
We stepped inside.
The world was quiet in the way that hurts. My boots didn’t echo. Kazuha’s feet barely whispered. I held my breath without realizing it, afraid I’d disturb… whatever this was. It was tranquil — but the fragile kind — like glass can turn back to sand at any time.
In the center of the courtyard stood her.
Suspended mid-step, her hand outstretched like she’d been reaching for someone. Her eyes were half-closed, golden light seeping through from her half covered irises. A breeze caught her long hair, but it never fell.
“Sakura,” Kazuha whispered.
"One of your sisters?" I whispered back.
Kazuha nodded, " Sakura," she says again, louder now, like she's calling for her sister.
No response.
"People called her the Mirror of Regret after our fall," she sighed. "She was known by another name before that. The same way I was called The Angel of Grace before we fell. She was The Ophanim of Time and the Angel of Memory."
The mention of her titles seemed to have an effect on the immediate vicinity as time seemed to jump by half a second.
"I'm sorry." I said softly.
“And she’s not moving.” I observed, and for the first time, I took in her features. She was shorter than Kazuha, but her build seemed more compact with more of an hourglass figure, small waist and a considerable flair in her hips.
Like Kazuha though, she was divinely, otherwordly beautiful. Her hair was beaten gold, so was her eyes, her features reminded me of the delicateness softness of cherry blossoms in spring. And her eyes, for all its golden splendor seemed full of grief, regret, and sorrow as she appeared to carry the weight of time and memories.
“She hasn’t moved in centuries.” Kazuha replies.
"Unlike you." I noted.
"Like I said, her realm rejects motion."
I looked closer. A single teardrop hung suspended just below one golden eye, caught before it ever fell.
Around her, the garden seemed frozen in an eternal golden hour. Petals hung like constellations. Light didn’t flicker. It lingered.
“She did this to herself?” I asked, studying her face. I stared back at her eyes, they were more piercing, as if she peers directly inside your soul.
“Not intentionally," she replied. "She didn’t want to lose it — the last moment before everything shattered. She locked herself in it."
"Don't look directly at her eyes," she warned softly, "you'll either relieve your worst memories, or be stuck in stasis."
Her words triggered unwanted memories. Bloodied Wraith claws piercing a door, a little girl's sobs, and heads on spikes. Yet there was no sound, no screams, just silence —silence and death. I pushed those memories out and focused on the present before my head and chest tighten again and the pain will overwhelm me.
“So she's like in a memory on loop,” I commented.
“Like denial.”
"Denial of what? The Fall?"
Before she can answer, the Compass began to tremble in my palm. Stillveil's silver streaks suddenly snapped alive, wrapping around Kazuha as if to shield her.
A low hum rose from beneath the earth. A wrong vibration. Something waking or crawling towards the ground.
“The relics are working, the loop’s weakening,” Kazuha said urgently. “She felt us. She's starting to remember.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“It depends what memory comes first... and which Sakura emerges...”
Which Sakura? Were there more Sakuras? That statement didn't make sense, but then again, the past few weeks hardly ever did.
Then the garden flickered.
For half a second, everything turned wrong. The blossoms browned. The light twisted. The koi pond became black glass. A woman’s scream echoed from nowhere and everywhere.
Then silence again, everything going back to the way it was.
“Sakura… sister...” Kazuha whispered as she slowly approached her Fallen Sister's form. “If you can hear me… don’t fight it.”
A crack formed beneath Sakura’s foot. Small. Barely visible. But it was moving.
Then —
The teardrop fell.
Sakura gasped and her head whipped back.
Reality snapped like a curtain yanked open. The koi splashed, the wind surged, and Sakura stumbled forward into motion. Her hand trembled. Her eyes widened. Her breath came in ragged bursts.
“Kazuha?” she whispered in surprise. “I… what are you...”
Then her eyes turned as gold as desert sand, and she screamed, soundless but ear-piercing. Like the sound was trapped in her throat yet the waves smash sharply inside my ear, forcing me on one knee.
The ground shuddered. A rift split open behind her and from it — a Purity Wraith, more malformed than the last, struggled as it tried to crawl through. This one had multiple faces, all weeping. Its bony hands were as white as ivory and wrapped in prayer beads.
“It's the memory,” Kazuha shouted. “It’s trying to tear her apart!”
I drew my daggers and dragged myself toward the Wraith. Kazuha caught Sakura in her arms as she was collapsing on her knees, covering her ears.
“I remember! I remember—please make it stop!” Sakura flickered, and sandy mirror images of her emerged as if trying to claw their way out of her body.
“Sakura!” Kazuha called out, spinning Stillveil into motion with her arms, swirling it around the two of them in a protective shield, flying debris getting sucked inside ripples where it touched the fabric.
But Sakura’s relic — a Cracked Hourglass Pendant, gold-edged and cracked at the center — began to pulse against her chest — and the mirror images slowly coalesced back into Sakura.
“Come back to now,” I said, dropping to my knees behind them, a bad move considering a Wraith is right in front of me, struggling to free itself from the ground. “Let it go.”
“I can’t,” she replied with multiple voices, each with different emotions — sadness, longing, regret, rage, and none of them of joy and happiness.
“You don’t have to do it alone,” I struggled to get the words as I fought the gusts of wind and the ever increasing weight of her presence and power — all the while facing off a Wraith that is trying to claw its way out to us.
Sakura looked at me — eyes golden, wide with pain and ancient longing.
“Why do you care?”
“Because someone did that for me," I replied, struggling against the weight of time and memories. I remember a face, a silhouette, with a blade in his hand, standing in front of a Purity Wraith — protecting me — and someone else that I am protecting, someone we are both protecting.
"And because you’re not broken." I yelled, though I think the same can't be said for me. "You’re.. paused — and whatever's paused, can move forward again.”
Those words seemed to awaken something within her — and her pendant opened — and time hiccupped. A wall of golden sand exploded outward. The Wraith reeled back, momentarily blind.
“I can move,” Sakura said, voice fragile but growing stronger.
“Then move, sister," Kazuha said staring straight in her eyes.
She nodded and stood, her pendant floating on her chest as she encloses it with her hands.
Kazuha remained close to her, swirling Stillveil to protect her.
Together, eyes locked, they harmonized, one to protect, the other to heal.
The Wraith howled, unraveling like a hymn gone discordant and froze, its skin morphing from gray to gold.
"Take it out!" Sakura screamed.
I pushed against the roaring sands with all the strength my legs can give me.
"PUSH IT KID!" The Compass screams in my head.
I close the last few steps from the Wraith and drove my daggers in both sides of its chest.
A pause.. then the Wraith bursts forth in a shower of golden sand.
And then — silence.
Sakura collapsed, but this time not into stillness. She was shaking, breathing, weeping.
Alive.
Kazuha knelt beside her.
“You remembered,” she said gently.
“I didn’t want to,” Sakura admitted. “But now that I have… maybe I can forget.”
"You.. don't.. have.. to..." I said, panting heavily and spitting sand off my mouth.
She looked at me.
“And who are you?”
“Seren,” I said. “The Compass.. brought me..” I added, raising the Compass, "brought us." I finished, gesturing at Kazuha.
"Sup!" Said the Compass, its needle rocking back and forth like its waving.
The pendant in her hand pulsed once — then whispered.
Sakura smiled faintly before passing out in Kazuha's embrace.
-----------------
Sakura sleeps like someone who’s been sprinting through eternity and finally collapsed.
She lies beneath a canopy of cherry blossom trees — too perfect, too peachy, and probably enchanted — with her cracked Hourglass resting on her chest.
I poke at the campfire while Kazuha sits across from me, polishing Stillveil. She does it slowly, like she’s not trying to clean it, just... listening to it.
The Compass is blessedly silent. Probably sulking because I almost got myself killed again... or pining over Stillveil, I really can't tell nor do I want to know.
I glanced over at Kazuha. She hasn’t said much since the fight. Then again, she’s never said much at all.
“She’ll wake up,” I offer, not sure if I’m comforting her or myself. “Eventually.”
Kazuha doesn’t look up.
“It’s not the waking I’m worried about.”
Right. It’s what she'll remember when she wakes, I thought. And which one emerges — whatever that means.
We dragged Sakura’s unconscious body to this clearing a few hours ago, and by dragged, I meant Stillveil wrapping itself around her and lifting her off from the ground as we find shelter.
The temple — or whatever pocket of broken time it used to be — crumbled into itself like sand after she collapsed, like a dream disintegrating upon waking.
Now it’s just the three of us, plus two relics who may or may not be passive-aggressively ignoring each other.
Stillveil flicks in the air, shifting shapes. Its silver-black threads keep subtly reaching toward Sakura’s relic, like a child trying to check if a sibling is still breathing.
The Hourglass responds with soft pulses.
They’re… talking. Or arguing. Or grieving. I honestly can’t tell.
"They're connected, almost as close as their weilders." The Compass whispers in my mind.
I pull out some dried fruit and offer a piece to Kazuha. She declines with a slight shake of her head.
“Do angels not eat?” I ask.
“We did,” she says. “But to me it never tasted like anything. Just… texture."
"Some angels love human dishes though,” she quickly added after noticing my slightly disappointed reaction.
“So food was like punishment to you?” I asked.
“Worse. It was irrelevant.” She finally looks at me, her expression softer than usual – and something else under it. Admiration? Respect? Honestly I'll settle for the latter though the former wouldn't hurt.
"But after the Fall… things began to have weight. Flavor. Meaning.” She said almost embarrassingly.
I raised a brow, “So… being mortal means suffering and seasoning?”
Kazuha’s lips twitch.
“Something like that.”
I think that might count as her third smile. Again — not that I’m counting.
"You look beautiful when you smile," I blurted out softly.
The wind shifts. The fire crackles. Kazuha sighs and turns her head away from me as Stillveil seemed to perk up in curiosity.
"Smooth," the Compass teased.
Great, I thought, now she thinks I'm at least ridiculous or at worst a creep. I was grateful for the fire, otherwise the flush in my cheeks would have been so obvious — I was least grateful to the Compass though.
Then — Sakura stirs.
Her hands curl in toward her chest, clutching her pendant immediately and running her fingers across its cracked surface. The Hourglass pendant pulses once, then settles.
She opened her eyes slowly, unfocused and glassy at first. Then they sharpen — glowing faint gold.
“Where…?” she starts, voice hoarse as she takes in her surroundings — cherry blossom trees and the soft whisper of the wind.
Kazuha is by her side in an instant.
“You’re safe,” she said.
“No one’s safe,” Sakura whispered, trying to sit up. “The memory didn’t fade. It just moved.”
"Moved?" I remarked.
She looks around — at me, at the trees, at the fire.
“You brought me here?” she asks.
“Technically,” I replied, “Kazuha, or Stillveil, whoever, or whatever, did most of the dragging. I just… encouraged it from a safe distance.”
Sakura lets out a breath that might be a laugh. If it was, I'd gladly put myself in a time loop just to hear it again.
“You’re the Compass-bearer,” she says finally.
"Seren,” I offer, and nod toward Kazuha. “And you already know her.”
“I knew who she was,” Sakura murmurs. “But I don't know who the Stillblade is.”
Kazuha lowers her gaze.
“None of us do. Even ourselves. Even myself,” Kazuha whispers sadly.
There’s a pause. Not an awkward one — a heavy, respectful kind. Like the three of us are sitting inside a memory and are trying not to wake it.
Then Sakura speaks again.
“The others… they’ll start to feel it too.”
“The awakening?” I ask.
She nods, her golden eyes flickering like sand on the wind.
“We sealed ourselves a few millennia after our Fall, each in our own way after we realized the world was starting to forget us. But the moment I moved… something shifted. Time will flow for them again. Its different with Kazuha, she is motion, after all. The echoes will reach them.”
“Then we don’t have much time,” Kazuha says.
“We never did,” Sakura replies. “Time is not something you own. It is always running, slipping from your grasp once you thought you have hold of it. Even I don't control it. Time is strong, unpredictable, and fragile. Even when we pretend it isn’t. Even if we don't want it to.”
The Compass buzzed faintly in my belt. I pull it out. Its needle spins once, then slowly drifts — not erratic, not certain. Just hesitant.
“It’s picking up something,” I say. “But it’s… vague.”
Sakura leans back against a tree, breathing steadier now.
“We’ll need rest. Even if it feels like betrayal.”
Sakura gives a faint nod and closes her eyes again.
I settle beside the fire, Compass in hand, daggers nearby. Kazuha's obsidian wings reflect the fire's movements. It was distracting — in a good way, at least through it, sleep won't take me as quick as it usually does. And knowing Kazuha's with me brought more comfort than the fire's warmth.
And for the first time in what feels like days —
Nothing tried to kill us.
No rifts. No Wraiths.
Just the fire. The breath of trees. The pulse of relics.
Three people caught between stillness and motion, between remembering and forgetting, between time and space.
Together — for now.
------
For all her talk of not sleeping — Kazuha fell asleep.
I didn’t think angels could sleep — not truly. Then again, I didn't think angels could eat, even though they think food tastes horrible — or at least, Kazuha does. But there she is, curled beside the fire, obsidian wings tucked neatly behind her. Stillveil wraps around her like a blanket, its threads slack as riverweed in still water. For once, she looks… not burdened.
I almost don’t want to breathe, in case I break the moment.
"You're staring." The Compass's telepathic voice pulls me from my trance.
"Why do you always speak when I don't need you to, then go silent when I need some information dump?" I argued.
"I'm mysterious that way." It answered nonchalantly. "Say, she's beautiful, right?"
"What? What are you talking about?" I thought back, suddenly aware that I was indeed staring at Kazuha a bit longer than normal.
"Stillveil!" The Compass exclaims. "Oh those silver and black streaks are divine! Pun intended."
I rolled my eyes. "Wait, do relics have a, you know, gender? Cause you keep referring to Stillveil as a 'she'." I asked.
"Of course she's a she. Look how beautiful she is." The Compass exclaims in sarcastic rage against me.
"So are you a he? No offense." I asked. "And what's your name? Like, aside from 'Compass'. Its like I'm talking to an object, not a companion." I finished.
"Aww.. you see me as a companion now?" The Compass whines in mock flattery, to which I only rolled my eyes. "But to answer your questions, yes, I'm a he, Stillveil's a she, and the "Temporal Vow" is.. I don't even know what the Temporal Vow is to be honest, the thing's as guarded as a precious memory," It added. "And as for my name, you'll know when it you earn it." It finishes smugly.
"The hell is that supposed to mean?" I asked, incredulous.
"Exactly as it sounded." It replied.
"And Temporal what?" I asked, trying to recall the other name the Compass mentioned.
"The Temporal Vow, duh," he replied in annoyance, "the name of Sakura's relic. You know, that pendant slung around her neck." I glanced at Sakura who was sleeping beside her sister, the cracked Hourglass pendant apparently named the Temporal Vow pulsing in sync with her breathing.
"Now leave me be," the Compass berated, "I'm too busy admiring Stillveil the way you're too busy admiring Kazuha."
"I was not..." I was unable to finish my statement because one, I felt the Compass shut me out, and two, I realized what I was about to say might be a lie.
“She sleeps deeper around you,” comes Sakura’s voice as she stirred from her sleep, her voice as soft as a page turning.
I glanced up. She has leaned back against a tree, the Temporal Vow nestled against her chest, faint pulses echoing from the cracked hourglass like the heartbeat of a memory.
“She says she does not sleep."
Sakura’s smile is tired, maybe amused. “You think she’s not listening? She always listens. Even when she pretends not to care.”
I chuckle, rubbing my arms. “Guess I should be flattered.”
“You should,” Sakura murmurs. “She doesn’t let many near her fire.”
My gaze drifts back to Kazuha.
“She’s been... different,” I say. “Since we pulled you out of the stasis. Like some weight lifted. Or maybe she just stopped running for a second.”
“She stops more often when you’re around,” Sakura replies, watching me with unreadable eyes.
"I was told that was a bad thing."
"That would depend on the circumstances on why she stopped," Sakura raised one hand, reaching for a falling cherry blossom. "And I think there are worse reasons for her to stop."
"Does that mean I was a bad reason?"
She sighed, "Only time will tell, Seren."
There’s a pause. Then her fingers brush mine as she leans over to poke the fire. Just a second. Just enough.
I didn’t pull away. I can't pull away even if I wanted to — even if my heart threathened to leap out of my chest at the mere brush of our skin.
The fire crackled gently between us. A low, thoughtful warmth.
“She cares about you, you know,” I say without looking at Sakura.
“I know,” she replies. “And you.”
I risked a glance at her — and she holds my gaze without blinking. And time slowed to a crawl as our eyes held each other — her golden irises locked upon my sun bronze.
“You looked after her,” she looked away and time ran properly again. “Both of you," she added, gesturing at the Compass clipped on my belt. "Even after everything. Even knowing next to nothing. That means something.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I say.
“I’m not,” she says, and there’s the faintest curl at her lips. “I’m... noticing.”
She turns her attention back to the relic in her hands. The Temporal Vow. It hums softly, like a lullaby barely remembered.
“Stillveil reaches for it sometimes,” I say. “Like they remember each other.”
“They do,” Sakura replies. “They were forged in the same Flame. Before that Flame broke.”
The logs shift in the fire at the mention of the Flame. And something cold moves through the air — a whisper, dry and brittle, cold but burning.
Sakura stiffens slightly.
“She’s stirring, or it felt like she already had,” she said in confusion.
“The next Fallen?” I ask.
She nods.
“Yunjin.”
The name alone felt like ash on the tongue.
“She was once the Angel of Rebellion. Bold. Brilliant. Passionate to a fault. Impossible to ignore.” Sakura’s voice is reverent, distant. “We used to call her ‘the Voice That Burns,’ her foes called her the Molten Fist.”
“But now?”
Sakura’s fingers tighten around the Temporal Vow.
“She’s become something else. The Ashen Flame they call her.”
I watch the fire flicker — and for just a breath, the flames dim gray. Cold. Like embers that never go out, only turn inward.
“She wields Blightfire now,” Sakura whispers. “Flame that corrupts instead of purifies. It doesn’t just burn. It infects. Makes people see lies in truth, rot in loyalty.”
“And her relic?” I ask.
“The Charred Ring of Ruin although its true name is known only to Yunjin herself.” Sakura exhales like it hurts. “It feeds on betrayal. It’s always hungry.”
My hand drifts toward the Compass. It hums quietly on my belt.
“She’s coming, isn’t she?” I ask.
“No,” Sakura’s eyes glow faintly gold. “The world is pulling her. The weight of injustice calls to her now more than anything we could say.”
"How do you know all this? Even after being trapped in stasis?"
"My domain is not just time, Seren, but also memory. Not just the memory of individuals, but the memory of the world — even the universe itself."
"Is that why you seem so... burdened by weight?" I asked in genuine concern — and she only replied with a weary smile.
Behind us, a slow breath. Feathers stirring.
Kazuha’s eyes flutter open.
For a moment, she looked at neither of us — then at both. Her gaze lingered longer on me than usual.
“Are you two... bonding?” she asks, voice low and rough from sleep yet laced with a slight teasing tone.
“You sleep like the dead,” I quipped back, smirking.
“Death sleeps more soundly than me," her lips twitched in an effort to stop herself from smiling.
But she draws closer to the fire, sitting between us without ceremony. Close. Almost too close. Swaying softly — making me hyper aware of her presence. Her shoulder brush past mine, her wing brushes Sakura’s. It feels... warm. Real.
I offer her some dried fruit. She doesn’t take it.
“You always offer,” she murmurs. “Even when you know I won’t take it.”
“Hope is a habit,” I say. "Water?" I passed her a canteen.
She takes the canteen and drinks. Then — Kazuha smiles as she puts the canteen down. A rare, brief thing. Her fourth - again, not that I'm counting.
"Oh you're definitely counting. Like the way I'm counting whenever Stillveil pulses when she senses me." The Compass injects its thoughts on me to which I can only respond with an eye roll with my eyes closed.
Sakura watched the exchange quietly, and then, with a faint tilt of her head, she leaned against Kazuha’s other side.
We sit like that for a while.
An angel who never stops moving.
A fallen one who froze time to forget.
And a mortal with a Compass that won’t shut up.
Three breaths. Three pulses. Three hearts not quite brave enough to say what they’re feeling — yet somehow closer than ever.
The Compass hums.
Stillveil flickers.
The Temporal Vow pulses once.
And the breeze blew more cherry blossoms to the wind.
Somewhere far away, a flame grows cold — and hungers for the taste of betrayal.
