Exile turned his gaze to Amal, eyes glowing with fierce calm. Despite the chaos, there was grace in his voice.
"As much as the stars shine… you will always be brighter."
Amal didn't respond with words. She simply released her grip. The ash holding Si collapsed.
Si dropped to the ground, coughing—but not for long.
Exile dashed forward, a silver blur of fury and elegance.
Si's eyes snapped open. "Not yet."
He grabbed his sword, rolling to the side just in time to meet Exile mid-charge. Their blades and fists locked in a powerful clash. Si twisted, his sword slicing through the air, aiming low—straight for Exile's legs.
Exile leapt back, just barely dodging the strike.
"Be careful!" Amal called out sharply.
Exile didn't answer. His eyes narrowed. He twisted his waist, spun mid-air, and delivered a powerful heel-kick aimed at Si's head.
But Si raised his blade just in time and blocked the kick with the flat of his sword, the force sending dust and energy exploding out around them.
Both slid back, measuring each other.
Si's eyes narrowed, blood still wet on his sword.
"You will not have my head, Exile," he growled.
He hurled his sword with deadly precision—a blur of steel—and before it even landed, he vanished.
Boom!
His foot slammed into Exile's chest, sending the noble beast stumbling back.
As Exile caught his breath, a flash tore through Si's mind—
---
Flashback — Years Ago
A boy ran. Tears streaked his dirt-covered cheeks as trees blurred past him.
Behind him, the thundering of hooves.
"Get the runaway!" a soldier barked.
Si, still a child, gasped for air as his legs gave in. A horse closed the distance—its rider grinning wickedly.
"I'll have your head, human," the soldier snarled, sword raised.
Si screamed.
---
Back to the present
With a roar, Si moved like lightning, his fist crashing into Exile's gut. The noble beast coughed and staggered, but didn't fall.
"Master…" Exile whispered through clenched teeth, pain and willpower flooding his voice.
His hands trembled—and then, a memory surged—
---
Flashback — The Stone House of Ash
Young Exile sat by the window, his eyes heavy with sadness.
Sarper approached, calm and gentle. "Why so sad?"
Exile turned his gaze up. "It's just… boring. A lot is happening out there, and I don't understand any of it."
Sarper chuckled. "You want to see something cool?"
Exile's eyes lit up. "Yes!"
Sarper lifted his hand—a swirling mist of ash formed in his palm, spinning and reshaping until it became a small, purring cat.
Exile's face lit up with wonder as the ash-cat leapt into his hands, soft and warm.
Sarper smiled. "Exile… You are the most curious soul I've ever known. That curiosity… will make you powerful."
---
Back to the present
Exile's eyes snapped open—sharper, brighter.
He wiped the blood from his lip.
"You gave me a reason to fight, Sarper," he said under his breath. "Now I'll fight like you did—until the end."
He raised his hands. The air around him shimmered. The noble beast form returned, stronger, clearer
Exile turned his gaze to Amal, eyes glowing with fierce calm. Despite the chaos, there was grace in his voice.
"As much as the stars shine… you will always be brighter."
Amal didn't respond with words. She simply released her grip. The ash holding Si collapsed.
Si dropped to the ground, coughing—but not for long.
They fought for hours.
Blade against claw. Fist against flame. Speed clashing with will.
The ground around them shattered with each strike, ash and wind swirling like a storm of fury.
Their bodies moved on instinct—cut, block, strike, twist, bleed.
Neither would yield.
Until finally... their strength failed.
Si panted, his knees wobbling as he glared through bloodshot eyes.
"Prince…" he hissed, spitting blood. "Just die already."
Exile staggered, barely able to hold his beastly form. His noble features cracked—ash shedding off like burning feathers.
"No…" he gasped, his voice broken. "I won't…"
And then they both collapsed—crashing onto the broken earth.
Their weapons lay forgotten. Their energy gone.
Exile coughed violently, blood spilling from his mouth. The cracks in his body spread as if his own transformation was now eating him from the inside.
He reached out with a shaking hand, his eyes struggling to stay open.
"Master… I… I fought as hard as I could…"
Si rolled over, pain racking every bone. His body still bruised from Sarper's blades. His ribs burned from Amal's ash strike.
He looked at the sky, the sun lost behind the smoke.
"You… damn monster," he whispered. "You don't even know when to die."
Neither could move.
They had given it everything—and in the silence that followed…
Death could have taken either one.