Chapter 104(Part 15)
The sun climbed higher on the second day, bleaching the festival banners and turning the crowd into a shifting sea of shadows. The heat was heavier now, pressing down on the open courts, but the spectators didn't care. They had come to watch Feilw Land play, and Feilw Land never disappointed.
Alok returned to the same spot he had chosen the day before. Close enough to read the players' faces. Far enough to see the whole court without being seen himself.
Rihan stood beside him, arms crossed, his jaw tight. He had been quiet all morning, his thoughts clearly on the football match that was still days away. But he had come anyway. He always did.
"You came back," Rihan said.
"I said I would."
"You didn't say why."
Alok didn't answer. He was watching the Feilw Land players warm up. They moved like a single organism each pass crisp, each shift in position fluid and rehearsed. Their white and silver uniforms gleamed under the sun, and their expressions were calm, almost bored.
But Alok's attention was on one player in particular.
Ceya.
She stood at the edge of the court, her hands clasped behind her back, her posture straight, her face smooth and expressionless.
She looked exactly as she had in the KUA tent controlled, measured, untouchable. The other players kept their distance from her. Not out of hostility, but out of something else. Deference, maybe. Or wariness.
Alok studied her movements.
She caught the ball without looking. She passed it with mechanical precision. Her feet found their positions without conscious thought. Everything about her was perfect too perfect.
But Alok saw the cracks.
A slight delay before she reacted to a serve. A brief hesitation before she returned a pass. The faint flicker in her eyes that vanished as quickly as it came.
She's still in there, Alok thought. She's still fighting.
Rihan followed his gaze. "That's her, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"She looks... different."
"She's not herself."
Rihan didn't ask for more. He had learned to read Alok's silences over the years.
The match began.
Feilw Land's opponents were Zandor the crimson clad students from the western deserts. They were fast, aggressive, and loud. Their players shouted encouragement to each other, their faces bright with competitive fire.
But Feilw Land was patient.
They didn't rush. They didn't panic. They simply absorbed each attack and responded with cold efficiency.
Every pass found its mark. Every movement was coordinated. They played like they had been training for this moment their entire lives.
Alok watched Ceya.
She moved like the others smooth, precise, automatic. But every few points, her rhythm would stutter. A pass that was slightly too slow. A step that was a fraction too late. Small things that most spectators would miss.
But Alok didn't miss them.
Lisa is fighting for control, he realized. She's pushing harder. But Ceya is pushing back.
He thought about the dirt. The word she had written with her finger while Lisa's attention had wavered. HELP.
She's still reaching out. Even now. Even when no one is watching.
The Feilw Land players scored. The crowd cheered. Ceya turned and walked back to her position, her face still calm, her posture still perfect.
But Alok had seen it. The flicker in her eyes. The brief moment of clarity before the mask slid back into place.
She's not gone. Not yet.
The first set ended with Feilw Land in the lead.
The Zandor players regrouped, their coach shouting instructions, their faces tight with frustration. They had fought hard, but Feilw Land had been better cleaner, faster, more disciplined.
In the stands, Alok noticed a figure he had seen before.
The woman in the dark jacket.
She sat in the back row, her face half-hidden beneath the brim of a hat, her eyes fixed on the court. But not on the players. Not on the match.
On Ceya.
She's watching her, Alok thought. Just like the man in the black coat watched the Valdris fighter. Just like the woman watched Clara.
He felt a chill that had nothing to do with the wind.
How many of them are there? How long have they been watching?
He forced himself to look away, to focus on the court. But he kept the woman in the corner of his vision, tracking her movements.
The second set was tighter.
Zandor had adjusted their strategy. They were playing more aggressively, attacking the Feilw Land defense, forcing errors.
The Feilw Land players were forced to work harder, their earlier calm replaced by strained focus.
Ceya moved to the front row.
She leaped for a spike and for a moment, something shifted. Her eyes cleared. The mask slipped just enough for Alok to see a flash of the girl he remembered. The one who had smiled at him in the school corridor. The one who had written HELP in the dirt.
Then the mask was back.
She landed, turned, and walked back to her position without a word.
But Alok had seen it. And he knew she was still in there. Still fighting. Still hoping.
I'm going to save you, Ceya. I swear it.
The match ended with Feilw Land victorious.
The crowd rose to their feet, their cheers echoing across the festival grounds. The Feilw Land players celebrated, their white and silver uniforms bright in the afternoon sun. Ceya stood at the center of it all, her face calm, her posture perfect.
But her eyes were searching the stands.
She's looking for someone, Alok thought. Just like Clara. Just like the Valdris girl.
He followed her gaze.
She was looking at the woman in the dark jacket.
The woman nodded once a small, almost invisible gesture and stood to leave. She moved with practiced ease, slipping through the crowd like water through cracks in stone.
Alok moved.
He pushed through the spectators, weaving between bodies, his eyes fixed on the woman's retreating figure. He reached the edge of the stands just as she disappeared behind a row of tents.
He searched for her. The tents were empty. The path beyond them led to the main road, where the festival crowds milled and shouted.
She was gone.
Rihan caught up to him, his breathing heavy. "What happened?"
"She was there," Alok said, his voice flat. "Watching Ceya. Just like the other one watched Clara."
Rihan's face tightened. "You think she's connected to Vaelia?"
"I don't know," Alok admitted. "But I know she's connected to something. Something bigger than a tournament. Something I don't understand yet."
Rihan was silent for a moment. "And Ceya?"
Alok looked back at the court. Ceya was still standing there, surrounded by her teammates, her face serene.
She saw her, Alok thought. She knew she was being watched. And she was afraid.
"She's still fighting," Alok said quietly. "But she needs help. Soon. Before Lisa wins."
They walked back toward the festival grounds in silence.
Rihan spoke first. "What are you going to do?"
Alok shook his head. "I don't know yet. But I'm going to find out who that woman is. And I'm going to find a way to reach Ceya."
"You can't do it alone."
Alok looked at him. "I'm not alone. That's the difference."
Rihan didn't answer. But his silence said enough.