Passing through the bustling marketplace, Ari navigated toward the grand plaza before the First Tier entrance. The air vibrated with life - vendors calling their wares in melodic patterns, children's laughter ringing like bells, the soft murmur of countless conversations creating an ambient symphony. Ari moved with practiced grace, her precious book secured under her arm.
She paused at the ornate fountain depicting a cat and fox locked in eternal playful combat, water spraying from their mouths in graceful arcs - a revered symbol of harmony in youkai culture. With a silent prayer to Hirako, she continued her journey.
Guards stationed beneath the grand gate recognized her instantly. Ari was a familiar figure to them, her daily excursions between tiers well known. They greeted her respectfully, allowing passage without question. As she entered the First Tier, the Great Cathedral's presence commanded attention as always. Its towering spires and intricate carvings testified to centuries of faith and determination. Though not yet a high priestess, Ari felt deep connection to this sacred place - her destiny carved into its very stones.
In the plaza, she spotted her mother Fiora standing with Elara Windrake. Elara - a cardinal and close confidante of Fiora, also Phoenix's mother - cut an imposing figure despite her delicate frame. Ari's heart lightened at seeing her mother, and she approached with a smile, clutching her book tightly while listening to their conversation.
"Elara, Hel clearly stated her interests lie solely with the Empire. Engaging with the Tundra conflict serves none of her purposes... well, it serves nobody's interests, really." Elara's voice carried calm authority as she glanced at Fiora from beneath her hood.
Fiora, deep in contemplation, responded thoughtfully: "The Kingdom is beset by unrest - fractured within, and besieged without by the defiant duchy," she murmured, her voice soft yet heavy with foresight. "I wonder… by what grace shall the Empress persuade Hel to stand beside our cause?". She touched her chin as wind blew dark strands across her face.
Elara nodded, her hood slipping to reveal short blonde hair and skin like polished ivory. "We need to discuss this with the full council. Too many uncertainties remain."
Fiora gently brushed a fallen oak leaf from Ari's hair, a tender maternal gesture. "The Empress mentioned a personal trip to Hel. Whatever decision is reached, she promised to inform me immediately."
As their conversation concluded, Elara bid farewell. Ari watched her depart, noticing unusual fragility in her pale, vein-traced hand. Elara, sensing the scrutiny, quickly concealed her hand beneath her sleeve and disappeared into her residence. Fiora sighed deeply, worry evident in her expression.
"I wonder how this will all end," she murmured, more to herself than Ari.
As they walked toward home, Ari broke the silence. "What were you discussing?"
Fiora paused at their door, patting Ari's head with the automatic affection of a mother who'd performed the gesture ten thousand times. "Nothing that should trouble you, dear."
"But why?" Ari's voice carried unusual insistence. "You've appointed me as your heir. Politics and diplomacy should always concern me."
Fiora's eyes filled with unspoken sorrow, words escaping before she could restrain them: "I doubt it. When you depart, I doubt you will ever..."
The door to Rosviel mansion swung open before she could finish that terrible thought. Emma stood there - tall, with long black hair and round glasses, brown eyes filled with concern. She bowed deeply. "Welcome home, Ms. Fiora, Miss Ari."
Fiora entered immediately, but Ari lingered outside as if physically unable to cross the threshold. Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill. The book she'd clutched so carefully slipped from her grasp, hitting stone with a dull thump. Emma, sensing the tension crackling like electricity, remained silent. She bent gracefully to retrieve the book, glancing at its title - finding it unremarkable. Handing it back, she offered a small, comforting smile.
Ari brushed away tears with trembling fingers and entered the mansion, her mother's unfinished words echoing like thunder in her mind.
"Dinner is ready," Emma announced before disappearing toward the kitchen, her voice blending into the household's background rhythm.
The dining table awaited them, nearly set with polished silverware and flickering candles casting warm, dancing light. The aroma of roasted herbs and freshly baked bread filled the air, mingling with beeswax scent from the candles. Fiora ascended the grand staircase, each step measured and graceful. She needed to transform from High Priestess into simply mother and woman - shedding official garb and the crushing weight of her responsibilities.
Before Ari could retreat to her room, the front door swung open again. Late afternoon sun streamed in, silhouetting Astra's powerful figure - captain of the city guard and Ari's older sister. Her uniform was impeccable as always, crisp and formal, contrasting sharply with the soft worry in her crimson eyes.
Without uttering a word, Ari sprinted to her chamber, footsteps echoing through corridors lined with family portraits and heirlooms. Astra's keen instincts immediately sensed something catastrophically wrong. The absence of both mother and brother deepened her unease. She headed toward the kitchen, where Emma was making final dinner preparations.
"Did something happen?" Astra inquired, concern threading through her authoritative voice.
Without looking up from her work, Emma replied quietly, "I don't know, but something is definitely wrong. Perhaps they argued."
Astra leaned against the wall, sighing deeply. "Ari never argues with Mother. Never."
Determined to understand, Astra proceeded to Ari's chamber and pressed her ear to the door. Hearing only silence, she knocked briefly before entering.
Ari lay upon her bed, clutching the book as if it were a lifeline in turbulent seas.
"Did something happen?" Astra asked with deep concern for her sister's wellbeing.
The room was dimly lit, heavy drapes drawn against afternoon sun. A small statue of Hirako stood on a shelf - a comforting presence, always watching. Without lifting her gaze from the book's leather cover, Ari responded hollowly, "Nothing happened. Why are you asking?"
Astra moved closer, floorboards creaking under her boots, and sat on the bed's edge. "Did you argue with Mother?"
Ari's composure shattered like dropped crystal. She set her book aside and, unable to contain it longer, burst into tears. She flung herself into Astra's strong arms, her sobs echoing in the chamber's quietness.
Astra, alarmed by the intensity of her sister's breakdown, embraced her tightly, stroking her back soothingly. Emma peeked in, concerned by the noise. Astra met her gaze and shook her head firmly - Leave us alone.
Emma nodded and quietly closed the door. Clinging to her sister, Ari's sobs gradually subsided. The room filled with lavender scent from sachets tucked into linen drawers, meant to calm but now mingling with the salt of Ari's tears.
Sensing readiness to talk, Astra asked gently, "Now tell me - what happened?"
Through diminishing sobs, Ari whispered, "I'm dead."
Astra felt ice water flood her veins. "Why would you say something like that?"
"Mother said I won't return. From the Coast. From Kreaton. She thinks I'm going to die there."
Understanding dawned on Astra like terrible sunrise. The truth had surfaced, shattering the fragile facade they'd all maintained. "There's still time, Ari. Don't despair. We'll figure something out."
Ari's eyes, still swimming with tears, flashed with unexpected anger as she pushed her sister away. "Don't lie to me! You can't fix this! Nobody can!"
Astra firmly embraced her again, stroking her hair and the soft fur of her kitsune ears. The room seemed to contract around them, air thick with unspoken fears. Ari cried and trembled in her arms like a child facing monsters in the dark.
Their brother Farah entered without knocking, his usual cheerfulness absent. Seeing his sisters in such distress, he sighed deeply - a sound far too old for his years.
"This is not the time. Could you please leave us alone?" Astra asked with forced calm.
Farah's expression was grim, his voice carrying unusual gravity. "Mother feels the same. I don't remember the last time I saw her cry. You should go to her, Ari. I tried to help, but she wouldn't let me in - physically or emotionally."
Something in his words penetrated Ari's despair. Her resolve crystallized suddenly, unexpectedly. She stood, leaving Astra's embrace, and proceeded upstairs to find her mother.
Even in distress, Fiora maintained her grace and elegance - it was as much armor as her official robes. Ari peeked into her mother's chamber and saw her sitting in a luxurious chair, still wearing her High Priestess attire, staring through the window at nothing and everything.
Ari's heart screamed at her to enter, to embrace her mother and cry together, to share this impossible burden. But a voice in the back of her mind - cold, practical, poisonous - held her frozen. Tears welled up again as she shook her head. Unable to face her mother, unable to bridge that impossible distance, she fled downstairs. She grabbed the book she'd carried all day and ran from the house.
The book - a tome on elemental magic that had seemed so important hours ago - now felt like dead weight. Truly, she was an impossible girl.
A knock sounded on Fiora's door moments later. Emma stood there, holding a covered dish on a silver plate. The hallway outside Fiora's chamber was dimly lit, flickering candlelight casting shadows that danced like specters along the walls.
"Ms. Fiora, you didn't come down, so I brought dinner to you," Emma said, her voice gentle and considerate.
Fiora smiled - a strained effort to hide the marks of distress and recent tears. Her eyes, still red and swollen, betrayed her emotions despite her best efforts. "Thank you, Emma. That's very thoughtful of you."
She accepted the plate and sat at her small writing desk, the room silent except for soft rustling of papers and faint lavender scent. She ate dinner alone, solitude heavy and oppressive, each bite feeling like a monumental effort. Emma sighed deeply as she departed, footsteps echoing softly down the corridor. Descending the stairs, she encountered Farah.
"Miss Ari won't join us?" Emma asked, concern evident.
Farah shrugged helplessly. "Last time I saw her, she was heading upstairs. I don't know where she vanished to."
"Let's leave them alone," Astra ordered from the dining room, where she sat eating with practiced calm despite the emotional storm. The room was warm and inviting, chandelier's golden glow reflecting off polished silverware and fine china.
"I felt something was wrong, so I won't trouble Ms. Fiora with this today," Emma said, taking a seat beside Farah. She passed him a sample of the food, then served him meat, and poured his drink with the attentiveness of someone seeking normalcy in chaos.
"Trouble her with what?" Astra asked, curiosity cutting through her worry as she took another bite, savoring rich flavors that seemed somehow muted tonight.
Emma sighed - a soft, weary sound that carried more weight than words. "My mother took in one of our distant relatives. She's still a child but desperately wants to work and help the family. I told her I would ask Ms. Fiora if she could work here as a maid."
Farah regarded Emma with questioning eyes, his imagination already conjuring images of a miniature version of the capable maid. "So we'll have a little you working here?" A small smile played on his lips despite the evening's heaviness.
Astra, however, perceived something deeper in Emma's eyes - pain carefully concealed, a story left untold. She chose not to press further. There had been enough unpleasantness for one day. She took another bite of meat, finding momentary distraction in the simple act of eating.
After the meal, Emma cleaned up diligently, the clinking of dishes and splashing water creating a soothing backdrop. Astra and Farah enjoyed tea in the living room, the fireplace's soft glow casting cozy ambiance that felt at odds with the household's mood.
Soon, Fiora descended the staircase, her presence immediately felt like a change in atmospheric pressure.
Without a word, she joined her children, her face a mask of calm despite the turmoil churning beneath. Her movements were graceful yet heavy with the day's accumulated burden.
"Come, sit with us," Astra proposed, gesturing to an empty chair.
Fiora shook her head, her voice steady despite inner chaos. "Truly, what an ill day this is. The burial of Hirako's priestesses is set for this evening. I must go and prepare the ceremony."
"I informed my guards earlier. They're probably setting up the temple now," Astra said, her voice filled with confidence and authority.
"Is Bang leading the preparations?" Fiora asked.
Astra nodded confirmation.
"Then I needn't worry," Fiora said, turning and proceeding to the mansion library, her steps deliberate and measured. She searched among well-organized shelves for a ceremony book, finding it nestled between volumes on religious history. The library was a sanctuary of knowledge, filled with comforting scents of old parchment and leather-bound volumes. She retrieved the book and carried it with her. In the front corridor, Emma already stood waiting with Fiora's ceremonial cloak, ready to assist.
"Please remind Ari to attend. She probably doesn't want to see me anymore," Fiora said, her face grim, unable to mask her profound sadness.
"We will," Farah replied solemnly.
Fiora departed the mansion, heavy wooden doors closing behind her with a soft thud that echoed through the silent hallway like a funeral bell.
Astra sighed deeply, fixing her brother with a fierce gaze. "Then go find her and tell her. Now."
Farah obeyed, quickly departing the house. "Pray for a better day tomorrow," Astra said to Emma, who clasped her hands together in silent prayer but offered no verbal response. The evening air beyond the windows was cool and crisp, filled with distant sounds of the bustling city winding down for night.
The evening ceremony was set in the devastated Hirako temple. As Astra prepared to leave, she encountered Farah in the corridor. He looked exhausted and defeated, his usual brightness completely extinguished by the day's events.
"I didn't find her. I've searched everywhere, and I've had enough," he said, frustration and defeat coloring his voice.
He attempted to pass Astra, but she firmly grasped his arm. "What kind of man are you that you couldn't even find your sister? Go back out there now!" Her voice was stern, filled with the authority she carried as eldest sibling.
Farah wrenched free from her grip and placed his hands together in mock prayer, his sarcasm a defense mechanism. "Thank you, goddess Hirako, for not making me her subordinate." The words dripped with bitter humor.
His comment ignited Astra's anger like spark to tinder, but he quickly fled to his room upstairs, avoiding her wrath.
"Your sister may be in danger, alone in some dark alley, and you simply grow tired and return with your tail between your legs... literally," Astra muttered, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. Frustration and worry for Ari weighed on her like physical chains.
Astra departed the mansion and headed to Hirako's temple, scanning streets and questioning various people and guards about Ari. No one knew anything. En route, she searched for the fortune teller she remembered - usually stationed on the main road - but found her absent. Disappointed, she continued to the temple, arriving mid-ceremony as her mother led the proceedings.
The temple, once ruined and looted, had been hastily prepared for this solemn occasion. Broken doors were replaced with simple wooden ones, damaged benches removed entirely, and Hirako's towering statue cleaned until it gleamed - standing as a solemn guardian over the proceedings. Incense smoke filled the air in fragrant clouds, creating serene atmosphere amidst the profound sorrow.
Astra spotted Bang leaning against a wall, his presence a quiet reassurance. His tall, imposing figure was familiar and comforting.
"Any chance you found her?" she asked, voice low and threaded with hope.
"Good to see you, Astra. Your mother informed me she's missing. No, I haven't found her yet," Bang replied, shaking his head. His expression was serious, eyes scanning the gathered mourners as if expecting Ari to materialize.
Astra sighed deeply, the day's weight pressing down on her shoulders like a physical burden. The ceremony's solemnity and pressing worry for her sister combined to create an almost unbearable heaviness. She joined the congregation, her thoughts with Ari, praying that wherever she was, she remained safe.
As Arianna fled from her home, late afternoon sun cast long shadows across cobblestone streets like reaching fingers. Tears streamed down her face in hot trails, and she clutched her book tightly against her chest as if it were a talisman against swirling emotions. The city was transitioning - the usual hustle and bustle giving way to calmer, almost oppressive stillness as day surrendered to evening.
Ari's feet pounded the cobblestones with rhythmic urgency, each step a release of pent-up frustration and sorrow. Her lungs burned, her legs ached, but she pushed forward desperately, seeking escape in motion.
The guards stationed throughout the city seemed oblivious to her distress, their indifferent gazes barely acknowledging her as she ran past. Despite her noble lineage, Arianna had always found solace in physical exertion - running was her favorite way to clear her mind. As she pushed herself forward, her thoughts consumed with maintaining balance and the steady cadence of her breathing, she found fleeting escape from emotional turmoil.
Her flight was abruptly halted when she encountered a witch - the local fortune teller whose presence was unmistakable. Dark robes billowed slightly in the breeze as she raised her arms to signal Arianna.
"Miss Rosviel, can we talk?" The woman's voice cut through the quiet of late afternoon like a blade.
Arianna, breath coming in ragged gasps, slowed to a halt and wiped her tear-streaked face with trembling hands. She approached the counter - a small, unassuming structure on the roadside. "You know me?" Arianna asked, voice mixing surprise and curiosity.
"I'm Gabriella, a fortune teller - or a witch, as most people around here call me," Gabriella explained, her tone warm and inviting despite the harsh title.
"Nice to meet you, Gabriella. I'm Arianna, but most people call me Ari," she responded, voice gaining steadiness as she made the introduction.
Gabriella, noting the distress etched on Arianna's face like carvings in stone, invited her into a nearby room. The space was dimly lit by flickering candles, casting soft, dancing shadows on stone walls. The room was modest in size but rich in character. Wooden shelves lined the walls, cluttered with jars of dried herbs, mystical trinkets, and various arcane artifacts. A carved wooden wardrobe stood in one corner, its intricate patterns hinting at ancient stories. The air was infused with a soothing blend of floral scents and an elusive, earthy aroma suggesting hidden mysteries.
In the room's center, a crystal ball rested on a carved wooden table surrounded by two chairs. Gabriella guided Arianna to one chair and took her own seat beside the crystal ball. Ambient candlelight created an almost hypnotic atmosphere, perfect for divination.
"Give me your right hand," Gabriella instructed gently.
Arianna extended her hand, its marble-like pallor contrasting sharply with Gabriella's tanned, weathered fingers. Gabriella's touch was delicate as she traced the contours of Arianna's hand, noting well-maintained nails and the slenderness of her wrist.
"Perhaps there's something you want to ask me?" Gabriella's gaze was steady, eyes reflecting genuine concern.
"Will I meet him?" Arianna asked, voice tinged with desperate hope.
Gabriella took Arianna's hand in one of her own and placed her other hand over the crystal ball. With eyes closed, she murmured softly, "Hmmm... Oh, I see... It's him?... No wonder I can't..." After a moment of intense concentration, she opened her eyes and spoke carefully. "I had a case similar to this not long ago - unprecedented. I don't know who you want to meet, but there's a chance I might have contacted him already."
Gabriella stood and placed her magical cap on a chair beneath a covered window, preparing for further consultation.
"You know his name?" Gabriella asked.
"No," Arianna replied, clutching the book more tightly. "I met him in Hirako temple during the attack. He wore a thick black cloak. I never saw his face."
Gabriella's brow furrowed slightly as she absorbed the limited information. The lack of crucial details made narrowing the search nearly impossible. However, when Arianna added, "He also used earth magic, but without visible runes - just hand gestures," Gabriella's interest visibly sharpened.
"This changes things," Gabriella noted, her gaze flicking to the book Arianna carried. "What's that you have?"
"I rented this from the academy library," Arianna explained. "Perhaps there's information about his magic that could help me find him."
Gabriella now faced a difficult decision. She had to weigh whether revealing what she knew would be beneficial or catastrophically harmful. "I'm sorry," Gabriella said with genuine sorrow coloring her voice. "I cannot read your future clearly and cannot help you find this man." She returned to her seat, disappointment evident in every line of her body.
Arianna's face fell, hope crumbling like sand castles before tide. She stood slowly, sadness deepening her expression. "No. No. Don't feel sorry for me. It's not your fault. Perhaps it's me - I'm having a terrible day, and it's disturbing your abilities..."
"Please, sit. Let me help you in some other way," Gabriella urged, reaching out.
Arianna shook her head, resolve firming despite her disappointment. "Thank you, but I'm in a hurry. I need to go."
With that, Arianna departed the room, leaving Gabriella alone in the dimly lit space. Gabriella sat in silence, hands clasped together in contemplative pose. "Telling her would only disturb the delicate balance of her future," she murmured to herself.
Suddenly, a dark, masculine voice emerged from the shadows - chilling and unexpected. The candles extinguished simultaneously, plunging the room into near darkness. Dark mist began seeping into the room like living shadow, coalescing around a slim man dressed in a dark suit and wearing a white mask bearing a perpetual, unsettling grin.
He glided closer to Gabriella and took the seat Arianna had vacated, movements fluid and unnatural. "So, what did you see?" he asked, voice smooth and dispassionate.
"Not much, because of him - the one she seeks," Gabriella admitted, unease threading through her voice. "Their paths will cross someday, but why and when remains shrouded. The future resists my sight when he's involved."
"Forget about the unknown," the man said with a dismissive wave. "Tell me what you could see."
Gabriella hesitated, weighing her words carefully. "I saw grief and fire. I saw a choice made in darkness. I saw her standing on a ship's deck, looking back at a burning city. But the details... they scatter like ash in wind whenever I try to focus on them."
The masked figure leaned back, processing this information. "And the boy? What role does he play?"
"He is the variable," Gabriella whispered. "The one element that shouldn't exist in any future I can divine. He bends fate itself simply by existing."
As Arianna fled from Gabriella's dimly lit room, the evening sky was darkening rapidly, sun sinking below the horizon in spectacular death. Cold fear and bitter regret weighed heavily on her as she hurried through now-shadowed streets, realizing she was dangerously close to missing her friends' burial - missing the chance to say goodbye to those who'd died in the temple attack, including Maria, who'd been like a grandmother to her.
The thought of not being able to pay proper respects felt like thunderous shock to her heart. Yet the prospect of facing her mother, who was leading the ceremony, seemed even more unbearable.
Rushing toward Hirako Temple, Arianna decided to make a quick detour to visit her friend Marika, who lived nearby. Her heart raced with urgency as she knocked on Marika's door with trembling knuckles.
When Marika answered and invited her inside, Arianna, unable to stay and chat, explained her situation in brief, breathless sentences. All she needed was a cloak for disguise. Marika, understanding the gravity of Arianna's situation immediately, handed her a short brown cloak that reached her knees. Arianna promised to return it undamaged and quickly said farewells.
Wrapped in the borrowed cloak with her book still clutched in one hand, Arianna hurried toward the temple. Wind whipped around her, cold and insistent, causing her to pull the hood down even further to conceal her face. As she arrived at the temple, the ceremony was nearing its end.
Standing in the doorway, surrounded by the somber crowd of mourners, she caught sight of Astra and Bang leaning against a wall. Bang's gaze suddenly met hers across the crowded temple - a moment of recognition that sent panic surging through her veins.
Desperately, she focused her attention on Hirako's towering statue and tugged her hood down even further, praying he wouldn't reveal her presence.
Curiosity got the better of her, and she risked a quick glance at Bang. To her surprise, he was smiling - clearly focused on Fiora, who was leading the ceremony with quiet dignity, rather than planning to expose Ari's attendance.
As the ceremony concluded, Arianna attempted to slip away, maneuvering backward through the crowd. She accidentally bumped into someone solid and was immediately grasped by the shoulder. Panic surged through her like ice water as she felt the firm grip.
Looking up, she saw a young guard with brown hair and a disarmingly broad smile. In a whisper, he said, "Everyone is looking for you."
Arianna exhaled a sigh of relief as he released his grip. "Then go and tell them," she said, annoyance and exhaustion tingeing her voice. She began walking toward the main street, heading back toward the First Tier.
"Well, we can talk if you want. I assume you wouldn't run from your home without good reason," the guard said, following her with casual persistence.
Arianna turned to face him, pulling her hood back to reveal her tear-stained face. "And you? What do you know about anything?"
"Well, I'm Doyle, if you know me. And I've lived through some tough times of my own," he replied with practiced sympathy.
Ari pulled the book from beneath her cloak and crossed her arms defensively. Her eyes met Doyle's, filled with a mixture of resignation and distrust born from a day of continuous disappointment. "Perhaps we can talk, but I'm not certain you'll be of much help."
Doyle chuckled, the sound warm and seemingly harmless despite the evening's chill. He casually draped an arm over her shoulder and gestured toward a dimly lit alleyway. "If we head this way, we'll reach a quiet place called Secret Grove. It's a hidden spot where we can sit and discuss things without anyone overhearing or interrupting."
Ari arched an eyebrow skeptically. "Never heard of it. Lead the way."
She gently but firmly pushed his arm off her shoulder and walked ahead with determined purpose. Doyle followed her, his steps light and unhurried as he guided her through the labyrinthine alleys of the city's Second Tier.
After a short walk through increasingly narrow passages, they arrived at a concealed gate, camouflaged by creeping ivy and rusted by years of neglect. Doyle wrestled with the heavy, ironbound gate, giving it several vigorous pushes until it creaked open with a reluctant, protesting groan.
As Ari stepped inside, the grove's serene beauty unfolded before her like a secret kept from the world. The setting sun cast golden glow over the tranquil haven, highlighting lush grass that had been recently mown, stretching out like a verdant carpet. Fruit-bearing bushes, their branches heavy with ripe berries, bordered the grove, while clusters of flowers peeked through with delicate, vibrant hues. The air was fragrant with mingling scents of earth and blossoms - a stark contrast to the grime and noise of the surrounding city.
Doyle led her to a weathered wooden bench nestled under a canopy of ancient trees. The bench, though worn by weather and time, offered comfortable respite amidst the beauty. Doyle settled himself on one end, sprawling with an air of casual confidence, his posture taking up more than its fair share of space. His demeanor, while relaxed on the surface, carried an undercurrent of watchfulness that Ari couldn't quite identify.
Ari hesitated momentarily, taking in the serene surroundings before sitting beside him cautiously. The bench creaked slightly under their combined weight. Doyle's arm draped somewhat possessively over her shoulders, warm but making her uncomfortable. Ari shifted, pulling his arm off her shoulders, and clutched her book and cloak tightly to herself, feeling the weight of both volumes and her predicament.
She glanced at him sideways, expression mixing curiosity and skepticism. "So how can you help me?"
Doyle's gaze was steady, features illuminated by the soft glow of twilight filtering through leaves. "It depends on your problem and what you're willing to offer in return."
Ari's scrutiny deepened. Doyle's face was slightly flushed from exertion of opening the gate, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened on his brow. "So you don't do charity."
Doyle's laugh was low and self-assured, carrying an edge she didn't like. "This is my first and last free lesson: don't do anything for free. Everything has a price."
Ari sighed deeply, the day's accumulated weight pressing heavily upon her. She stared down at her book, the leather cover cool and reassuring in her hands. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke, voice barely above a whisper. "I'm being sold by my mother to a warlord from the Tundra. As a bride, I'm being sent to the Likaon Coastline to marry their current leader."
Doyle's expression shifted subtly - a flicker of what might have been genuine concern replacing his earlier nonchalance, though something else lurked beneath. He leaned in slightly, gaze intent on Ari as if weighing her words.
"Well, it's heavy stuff, but I was sold off to marry someone too. It's not quite the same as your situation, though,".
Ari began, voice heavy with shared burden. "After the attack on Hirako's temple, something magical happened to me - like a fresh breath of air blew through my soul. I started believing I would live an adventurous life and meet my promised one. I forgot the truth, though it never forgot me. I had a plan forming in my head; just thinking about it gave me butterflies..."
She trailed off, lost in the memory, when suddenly - "WHAT THE - ?!"
Ari jerked back as if struck, her hand darting to her cheek where something soft and damp had touched her skin. Doyle, his face flushed and eyes wild with something dangerous, was unnervingly close - far too close. His breath came heavy and rapid, sweat beading on his brow.
As Ari tried to rise in alarm, Doyle's hand shot out, gripping her shoulder with force that made her gasp in pain. She dropped her precious book, instinctively trying to pull away, but his grip was unyielding - iron wrapped in flesh.
In a desperate struggle, they tumbled to the ground in a chaotic tangle of limbs. Ari kicked and squirmed with all her strength, finally managing to slip partially free and scramble back. But Doyle was relentless; he grabbed her ankle, yanking her back toward him with frightening strength.
With a surge of adrenaline, she spun and kicked at his hand, momentarily breaking his grip. Doyle, undeterred and breathing like an animal, lunged at her again, pinning her down with his weight. Terror seized Ari's heart in an icy grip; his hands clamped around her wrists like manacles, and his face was inches from hers, eyes dark with dangerous intent she recognized with horror.
Panic surged through Ari as she felt utterly trapped beneath him. His breath was hot and ragged against her skin as he leaned closer. Just as she felt darkness closing in, she managed to summon enough strength to headbutt him. Her forehead connected with his face, and he reeled back, stunned but not defeated.
Ari sprang to her feet with desperate speed, a red magic circle glowing fiercely around her wrist - ancient symbols spinning with barely controlled power. Doyle charged at her like a maddened bull, but she was ready this time. A gust of wind blasted from her outstretched palm, but he only staggered, pushing through it.
The magic circle shifted to blue, symbols rearranging themselves. With a swift motion, she sent a torrent of water crashing into Doyle, drenching him and finally knocking him down. She sprinted toward the gate, but it wouldn't budge - locked tight from the inside. Desperation clawed at her as she turned back to face Doyle, who was already rising, water dripping from his armor and hair, transforming him into something nightmarish.
His eyes blazed with rage and something worse - a hunger that made her skin crawl.
Tears streamed down her face as she turned to face Doyle, but beneath the tears, something else was kindling - not just fear, but fury. Her hands shook, but they were raising to summon another spell. "Please! Please, save me again!" she prayed silently, thinking of her mysterious savior, even as she prepared to fight.
Doyle charged at her, roaring with incoherent fury. He swung his fist in a wild arc, narrowly missing her as she ducked and rolled away with reflexes honed by her training. Ari raised her hand, conjuring another red magic circle around her wrist, but Doyle was learning, moving faster than before with terrifying focus.
He lunged, slamming his shoulder into her with brutal force. Ari hit the ground hard, vision spinning, breath knocked from her lungs. Before she could recover, Doyle was on her again, pinning her down once more with his superior weight. His hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her scream.
Struggling beneath him with every ounce of strength remaining, Ari met his gaze with fierce determination replacing terror. She wasn't crying anymore. The trembling had ceased. She focused her energy with both hands pressed together, and the red circle in her palms pulsed with concentrated power.
She brought both hands together against his chest. A searing burst of flame erupted, engulfing him in white-hot fire. His armor smoldered, his hair turned to ash, and he was hurled backward, rolling on the ground desperately to extinguish the flames consuming him.
Ari scrambled to her feet, chest heaving with exertion and lingering adrenaline. "I will not meet you again as a victim!" she thought fiercely, steeling herself for the next assault, magical energy crackling around her raised hands.
As Doyle staggered to his feet, his face had become a horrifying mask - one eye blackened and swollen shut, skin charred and blistered in patches, hair reduced to blackened stubble, and his nose disfigured by burns. With a roar of pure, animalistic rage, he drew his sword, the blade glinting menacingly in the fading light.
Ari quickly conjured another rune, the air around her crackling with barely controlled magical energy, ready for what she knew might be the final confrontation.
"Drop that weapon! What's going on here?" A commanding voice cut through the tension like a blade. A large guard stood at the entrance, his eyes wide with shock at the scene before him - a young noble woman in combat stance facing a burned, sword-wielding guard.
Ari felt a surge of relief so powerful it nearly buckled her knees - help had arrived, even though she'd been prepared to fight to the death.
But Doyle, consumed by rage and despair and something darker, made no move to surrender. Instead, in a motion that seemed to happen both instantly and in slow motion, he raised his sword with both hands and plunged it into his own chest.
Blood spurted out in a crimson fountain, staining the ground and splattering Ari's borrowed cloak. She watched, horrified and frozen, as Doyle crumpled to the ground, his eyes glazing over as life fled his body. The guard rushed forward, but it was far too late - death had claimed him before he hit the earth.
Ari stood trembling violently, the weight of what had just happened crashing over her like a tidal wave. She turned and fled without thought, tears streaming down her face, barely aware of her surroundings as she stumbled through the dark alley. She made her way to the main street, desperate to reach the First Tier and the safety of home, leaving her forgotten book behind in the blood-stained grass.
Her flight was noticed by Bang, who was walking with Frost after the burial ceremony.
"Wasn't that Ari just now?" Bang said, squinting into the gathering darkness, recognizing her distinctive silhouette despite the disguising cloak.
Frost shrugged, distracted by his own thoughts. "Who? The girl up ahead?"
A woman emerged from the alley behind them, face pale with shock, clutching Bang's arm desperately. "A guard is lying dead back there!" she cried, voice breaking.
Bang's face hardened instantly, years of military discipline taking over. "Frost, go after that girl - make sure she's safe. Don't approach her directly; just ensure she reaches home. I'll handle this."
Frost reluctantly tossed his lollipop aside and jogged after Ari, keeping a cautious distance. Something told him to let her be, to give her space, but he stayed close enough to intervene if necessary. He shadowed her all the way to the First Tier, satisfied only when she disappeared safely inside the Rosviel mansion, the heavy doors closing behind her with finality.
Meanwhile, Bang was led to the grove by the still-shaking woman, through the broken iron gate and down rough-hewn steps. His heart sank as he beheld the body lying in a spreading pool of blood.
Even burned and battered beyond recognition, even with the sword still protruding from his chest, Bang recognized Doyle - the boy he and Astra had once saved from a terrible fate, the boy they'd given a second chance.
No tears fell from Bang's weathered face, but a deep, profound sadness settled over him like a physical weight. The woman who had guided him had vanished, melting back into the city's shadows, leaving him alone with the dead.
What a terrible, terrible day it had been.
The moon rose over Kar-Ah, casting silver light over a city where too many secrets festered in darkness, where too many futures hung by threads too fragile to bear their weight.