Vayra watched from above.
The training hall stretched beneath her, warm light reflecting faintly against polished stone. The air still carried traces of heat—residual, unstable, but controlled.
Her lips curved slightly.
"So it's begun…"
Tamura stood below, his posture steadier than before, his movements no longer erratic. There was thought behind them now. Intention.
That alone would have been impressive.
But what interested her more—
Was the fire.
Not wild.
Not destructive.
Contained.
Even if only for a moment.
Her crimson eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"Infernal… and already adapting."
A soft exhale left her lips.
"How fascinating."
Her gaze shifted.
Mugen stood nearby, relaxed as always, though she knew better than to mistake that posture for carelessness.
He had changed too.
Not in power—
But in behavior.
Subtle.
Measured.
He spoke more.
Corrected more.
Watched Tamura in ways that weren't entirely self-serving.
Vayra tilted her head slightly.
"…So you've taken an interest in him."
Not ideal.
But not entirely unwelcome either.
Mugen was sharp.
Observant.
He learned quickly.
If Tamura continued under his influence—
He would grow faster.
Stronger.
More efficient.
But…
Her expression thinned slightly.
There were drawbacks.
Tamura spoke more now.
Not just when told.
Not just when necessary.
He questioned things.
Pushed back.
Watched others with a quiet defiance that hadn't been there before.
Vayra's fingers tapped lightly against her arm.
"…That attitude."
Unrefined.
Undisciplined.
Dangerous.
Not in power—
But in direction.
She had no intention of allowing that to continue unchecked.
Freya would correct it.
She always did.
Her attention returned fully to Tamura.
To the way he stood.
To the way he looked at her now.
Not with fear.
Not completely.
That, too—
Was new.
A slow smile formed.
"…Good."
Fear broke easily.
But something that resisted—
Something that pushed back—
That could be shaped into something far more valuable.
She turned away from the railing, the decision already made.
"If he is to grow," she murmured softly, "then he must be tested."
Not in controlled environments.
Not in safe conditions.
But in reality.
Where hesitation meant death.
Where instinct revealed truth.
The carriage ride was quiet.
Across from her sat a man draped in fine fabrics, his posture relaxed, his smile thin and practiced.
Lord Halveth.
A noble of reputation—
And of whispers.
Unstable dealings.
Questionable alliances.
A man who thrived in the spaces others avoided.
Vayra found him… useful.
"You've been quiet," he noted, swirling the dark liquid in his glass. "I was expecting more enthusiasm from you."
Vayra's gaze remained forward.
"I prefer results to anticipation."
He chuckled.
"Straight to business, then."
His eyes sharpened slightly.
"You're certain about sending them?"
"Yes."
"Children?"
Her gaze finally shifted to him.
Cold.
Unmoving.
"They are not children."
A pause.
Then a small smile returned to his face.
"…Right. Your 'talents.'"
He leaned back.
"And you believe they'll survive?"
Vayra didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
"And if they don't?"
Her expression didn't change.
"Then they were not worth the investment."
Silence followed.
Brief.
Heavy.
Then—
Halveth laughed.
"Cruel," he said. "I like it."
The arrangement was simple.
Too simple.
A delivery.
A meeting point.
An exchange.
But both of them knew better.
There were too many unknowns.
Too many variables.
Too many opportunities for things to go wrong.
Which made it—
Perfect.
Mugen stood beside Tamura as the final instructions were given.
His expression was neutral.
But his eyes—
Sharp.
Suspicious.
"…This is a setup," he muttered under his breath once the guards stepped away.
Tamura glanced at him.
"You think so?"
"I know so."
Tamura didn't respond immediately.
He just looked ahead.
"…Then why send us?"
Mugen scoffed quietly.
"Because she wants to see what happens."
A pause.
Then—
"…And she doesn't care if we die."
Tamura's hand tightened slightly at his side.
The heat stirred.
Low.
Controlled.
"…Then we won't," he said.
Mugen glanced at him.
A small grin formed.
"…Yeah."
From a distance—
Vayra watched them leave.
Side by side.
Different.
But aligned.
Her eyes lingered on Tamura.
"…Show me," she whispered softly.
"Show me what you truly are."
Because if her assumptions were correct—
If her investment proved successful—
Then this would not only refine her greatest asset.
It would remove an obstacle as well.
Two outcomes.
Both beneficial.
And if they survived—
Then the world of Xathia would soon learn something new.
Something dangerous.
Something inevitable.