Meanwhile, amidst the crew's ever-evolving convictions, Miss Arian had slipped away into the heart of the capital, where neon signs flickered and jazz played softly in corner cafés.
There, she met Elis—an old friend with sunshine-blonde hair and sarcasm sharp enough to pierce steel.
Arian wasn't her usual composed self. That evening, she was already at the bar, knocking back every shot that came her way.
"Okay... I think we've had quite enough of that," Elis said, gently prying her off the bar stool. She led her to a quieter table and sat her down. "It's been a while, Arian. I didn't expect to find you like this when we met again. What's wrong?"
Arian looked away, eyes heavy with something unspoken.
"Your silence tells me I already know," Elis continued. "Work? Or someone?"
Arian shut her eyes.
"Let's not talk about it."
"So I'm right, then," Elis replied, arms folded. "Let me guess—the boy you mentioned once before. What was his name? Bulma? Or maybe—"
"It's Torma!" Arian blurted, burying her head in the table. "His name is Torma."
"I know," Elis said with a smirk.
"Ahhh…" Arian groaned.
"So what about him?"
"Ahhh…" Another groan.
"Those aren't words."
"Tomorrow is Ascension Day."
"Okay…?"
"And Torma will be there. I just know it."
"So shouldn't you be happy for him?"
"Ahhh…"
"Or… do you not want him to leave?"
"Well…"
"Arian, are you even thinking about him? Or is this all about you?"
"No! It's just that—WAITER! Another drink—"
"No," Elis snapped. "We're fine." She turned back to her friend, more serious now. "Arian, if you need me, then you're going to have to actually talk to me."
"Fine…" Arian muttered. "I'm not against him leaving. Honestly, I'm happy for him. But I don't want to lose that feeling."
"What feeling? Arian, do you feel something for him? You do remember what we are to them, right?"
"It's not that! And he's not like the others…" she whispered. "Elis... this feeling—I believe he can help us."
"Help us?" Elis blinked. "Not again, Arian—"
"I'm Serious!"
"Arian," Elis calmly whispered, "Some stories aren't meant to have happy endings,"
"Elis, for once I know what I'm saying!" She exclaimed, "He's really different,"
"And what I fear most…" Arian's voice cracked. "...is that if he goes, he might drift further away from himself… further away from me. And that feeling will be lost as though it was never there."
She sank deeper into the table, eyes half-lidded in intoxication.
Elis sighed.
"Alright, Arian."
"Mmmh," Arian mumbled.
"The Spirit Bonding is tomorrow. And the least you can do is be there for him."
"I suppose so…"
"Then maybe I can—" Elis paused. Arian was already fast asleep.
"Hm. Alright, goodnight, Princess."
She hoisted her friend up and stepped out into the cool night, thoughts lingering.
Torma, huh?
Outside, the night air was cool—almost kind. Neon signs buzzed behind them as Elis stared off toward the distant skyline. Somewhere, under the same starry sky, the next generation was preparing for their destinies, their legacies, for the Spirit Bondage.
In different corners of the capital, the young crew each made their way home, reaching a fork in the road—each young warrior heading their separate way for the night, resting before what awaited them.
Anos took the long road home with his younger sister, Aiz, in tow.
"Alright, see you tomorrow guys," he called back. "Come on, Aiz, hurry up. It's getting dark."
"I know, I know! But don't rush me," she pouted. "Your legs are longer."
Elsewhere, Lee took the shorter path home.
"I'm home," he called as he walked through the door.
"Oh! Welcome back, dear," his mother said cheerfully. "Honey! Lee's home!"
"We're sorry it had to end this way," his father added solemnly.
"What?" Lee blinked.
"We heard you got expelled," his father continued. "But don't worry. You're still our son. You'll always be welcome in this household."
"Huh? I'm... what now?"
"Well, it's not like you have anything else to do besides school," his father explained.
"So we figured you probably messed up," his mother finished with a sincere smile.
"WHAT?!" Lee exclaimed. The sincerity on her face…!
"WELL, IT'S THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE!" he shouted. "I've joined the Guard!"
They both burst into laughter.
"I'm not kidding!"
"Ahhh, of course you're not," his father replied with a wink. "We were just teasing, son. HAHAHA!"
Lee didn't know whether to be mad or relieved.
"Come here, lad," his father said, pulling him into a hug. His mother joined in.
"We're proud of you," she whispered.
"You're the son of a noble house," his father added. "Of course you'll make it."
"Aww… thanks guys."
"Think nothing of it," his father replied, then quietly muttered, "God save our kingdom."
"I heard that!" Lee shouted from within the hug.
Farther still, Torma walked alone to his modest two-story home—an aging structure cloaked in shadows.
He stepped inside silently, removed his shoes, and turned on the living room light.
"Welcome home," he whispered to himself.
He fixed a simple meal and ate alone at a cold, empty dinner table.
Once done, he tucked himself into bed.
"Goodnight," he murmured again… to no one but himself.
But peace is a fragile illusion.
Elsewhere, beneath the same star-strewn sky, a storm churned silently above the outer capital. Grey clouds gathered like ancient titans in council, and from within them—crackling flashes danced, charging the heavens with restless fury. Then, without warning, a single bolt broke free—its lightning no longer white, but a deep, Blood Red.
It struck the earth with explosive force.
The ground quaked. A violent shockwave burst through the clearing, sending debris and wind tearing through the air. As the dust began to settle, a monstrous Dark construct emerged.
Humanoid. Twisted and Scarred in black.
A demon.
"There it is!" a knight shouted, blade already drawn, his eyes giving out an orange glow.
"Right on schedule," another said, his voice unnervingly calm—as though this nightmare had been expected. Fifteen armored and enchanted soldiers already encircled the creature, spears and swords braced.
"Now, everyone—CHARGE!"
"AAAAHH!!"
They roared as one, launching forward from all sides. The demon didn't cower. It absorbed the charge met their fury with one of its own—
"GRRAAAARRR!!!"
The demon's ferocious roar split the night as steel clashed with chaos.