The temple corridors stretched endlessly, every wall carved with murals of flame and lotus, every step echoing faintly beneath the vaulted roof. Astra and Seirou paced side by side, circling the halls while Kaen remained within the inner sanctum. He had sat cross-legged in meditation, still as stone.
Astra sighed, her arms folded behind her head. "If Kaen sits down to meditate, he doesn't count hours. For him it's going to be… very, very long."
Seirou's lips curved faintly, but he said nothing.
Her gaze wandered over the murals again before she gave a soft laugh. "I really can't believe all those legends of Goddess Yunmei. And yet, you—" she reached up and patted Seirou's shoulder lightly, "—you remember every detail like you've swallowed the temple archives."
A chuckle escaped him, low and brief, his eyes softening despite himself. But the moment didn't last. His steps slowed, then stopped. Something flickered across his expression sharp, intent, listening.
Seirou turned his head slightly, his gaze narrowing toward the far corridor. The air itself seemed to change, carrying a faint tension Astra couldn't place.
"Stay here," he said quietly, his tone firm in a way that left no room for jest. "Don't wander. No matter what, do not leave this spot until I return."
Astra blinked, caught off guard by the sudden seriousness in his voice. "Seirou—what is it?"
But he was already moving, Astra puffed out one breath, then watched him walk away, long strides swallowing the tiled floor. He disappeared between pillars, and the soft clink of his steps faded into the hush.
Time thinned, sunlight sliding lower between the temple eaves until the outer courtyards were gilded in late afternoon. The air cooled. The hush of prayer and ritual broke here and there only with the soft clatter of worshippers feet.
Astra idled near the outer galleries, fingers tracing the carved rail, when a sudden human sound cracked through the evening like a thrown rock: an angry shout, then the shrill chorus of a crowd. Voices rose—shouts, jeers, the heavy slap of someone struck against stone. She stepped toward it without thinking.
A man lay trussed between two pillars. A ring of bodies closed around the man like a net. His clothes were torn and crusted with grime; someone had already left fresh bruises dark across one cheek. Two men held him by the shoulders while another raised a cudgel that had just come down hard enough to crack the air.
"What happened?" Astra asked a woman pressed at the crowd's edge.
The woman sniffed, voice hard as dry reed. "He stole the offerings, the fresh lilies, the lotus cakes for the goddess. Beggar's hands in holy bowls. A crime against the goddess. It's—" she spat the word— "shame."
Astra's stomach churned. Crime. The word felt cavernous and foreign. Her skin prickled in a way the cool air couldn't explain; her lips pressed together.
As a child she'd filched offerings with her friend she no longer remember—not from hunger but because they'd looked sweet and tempting. Is this how they punish people here? The thought of a man condemned to death over a few cakes made her blood run cold. If she'd been caught within these temple walls, what fate would have awaited her?
She looked at the man again. For all the blood and filth, there was something else: a strip of cloth over his eyes. He was blindfolded. She thought someone had shoved it on him. The crowd's brutality suddenly felt ten times worse.
"It's good we caught him on the spot," a man nearby declared, his face hard as flint. "Beggars like him aren't allowed in the temple. He stole from the sacred—send him to prison."
"No—behead him!" another voice cried, sharp with righteous fury.
"Burn him alive!" someone else hissed, and the suggestion spread through the crowd like spilled oil.
Astra's heart went cold. "What!? Are they serious?" she snapped under her breath, staring at the men closing in. "That kind of punishment for stealing food?"
He looked at the man again who even though beaten that badly and bleeding didn't make any sound or begged to stop but instead took shallow breaths.
Astra inhaled, the breath sharp and quick. She did the only thing her gut would let her do.
"Look! Look—a golden crow!" she shouted at the top of her voice.
Every head snapped up at her shout. Seizing the moment, Astra lunged into the circle, scooping the man under his arms. Fingers slid into the sticky blood clinging to his clothes, and she hauled him up with all her strength.
"Run! If you don't want to burn alive!" she hissed into his ear, not waiting to see if he understood.
The crowd erupted, realization dawning too late. "Thief! Guards! Someone stop them!" A dozen feet surged forward, trying to block their escape.
Astra didn't look back. She dragged the man through the throng, weaving past shocked faces as the shouts behind them multiplied, sharp and furious. The temple's late sunlight slanted across the lane, mingling with the heavy scent of incense. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a war-drum in her throat.
From somewhere in the chaos, Seirou's voice cut through like steel: "Astra! What have you done—?"
"I'm busy! I'm saving someone! I'll be back soonnnnnnn!"
Seirou's eyes followed them as the crowd thrashed around them. He shook his head, letting out a low, wry chuckle.
"My dear, your highness The Crown prince… I truly didn't see this coming," he muttered under his breath, a small grin tugging at his features, half in disbelief, half in admiration.
Then, after a pause, he muttered almost to himself:
"Crown prince… ahhh, now how am I going to explain this to the rest?"
————
Astra ran, her legs burning, dragging the man behind her by his arms. Despite his ragged clothes and the blood on his skin, he moved with surprising agility, though blindfolded, relying entirely on her guidance. Around them, the shouts of the temple guards and the pounding of their feet echoed like drums, relentless and close. She risked a glance behind—faces twisted with anger, hands gripping weapons. There was no way they could outrun them for long.
"Here," Astra gasped, veering sharply into a narrow path within the temple that widened just enough for them to slip between two stacked stone walls. The space was tight, forcing them to press flush against each other as she kept a firm hold on his arms.
The space was so tight against the narrow gap between the stacked stones, that every movement brought them closer—his arm brushing against hers, their breaths mingling in the cramped air. Her heart hammered wildly, every beat echoing in her ears, and the warmth from his body pressed against hers made it impossible to think clearly.
Just as she dared to peek around the corner, ready to see if the coast was clear, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist with surprising strength. "Don't," he murmured, his voice in a whisper, sending a shiver down her spine. "They're still out there. Wait."
Footsteps echoed nearby, and a shouted command cut through the air: "Search everywhere! They must be hiding somewhere! Don't let them escape!"
Astra pressed herself tighter against the stone, exhaling slowly as the steps outside gradually faded. She peeked through the small gap and saw the last shadows of the guards disappearing down the corridors.
She tried to move forward again, but his other hand gently pressed against her shoulder, keeping her flush against the wall, his body shielding hers. "Now is not the time," he whispered, almost tenderly, though there was steel beneath the calm.
For a moment, silence hung between them, broken only by the distant echoes of the retreating guards. Then he gave a quiet, almost hesitant breath. "Thank… thank you," he murmured.
Astra's brow furrowed, searching his expression. "Why did you steal?" she asked, her tone firm but not unkind.
He didn't answer immediately, and she softened, shifting her voice. "Were you… hungry?"
He swallowed, his voice barely audible. "That… that one was for my sister. She's sick… no food at home for three days."
Astra's chest tightened at his words. She understood, though she said nothing, her gaze flicking to the burns and bruises covering his arms and face. Without thinking, she reached out, brushing a trembling hand over one of the darker marks.
He hissed sharply, and she jerked her hand back immediately, muttering a rushed, "Sorry…"