The council hall in Azoth's castle was lit by a soft glow from crystal lamps. Around the table, Tifa waited with arms crossed while Blair and Mikan sat at her side. The guards kept silent, aware something important was about to be discussed.
The door swung open with a muted crash, and Eryndor entered with his unhurried stride, followed by Asori. But he wasn't the same boy who had left a week earlier: his steps were firm, his gaze more focused, and though his clothes were torn and patched, a different aura clung to him.
Tifa studied him closely, weighing every detail.
—Asori… —she said solemnly—. Show me how much you've changed.
Mikan arched a playful brow.
—And how do you plan to measure that, Your Grace?
—With a bout. —Tifa pointed at Mikan—. You'll be his opponent.
Mikan smiled, feline and wicked as she rolled her shoulders.
—Me? I'll try not to break a bone.
Blair tensed, worried, but Eryndor soothed her with a glance.
—Watch, —was all he said.
The training yard hummed with expectation. Guards, servants—even Maester Corbin—peeked in to watch. Blair stood near Tifa, heart thudding; she wanted to see just how much Asori had changed.
Mikan took her stance, daggers in hand, that playful smile always hiding a lethal edge. Asori, meanwhile, simply raised his fists—without transforming.
—You're not going to transform? —Mikan asked, curious.
—I don't need to, —Asori replied, not arrogant, just calm.
Mikan's frown sharpened, offended.
—We'll see.
She sprang forward like a shadow. Her daggers sliced the air in a flash. Blair clenched her fists; she knew that speed—barely visible even to trained fighters.
But Asori… simply moved. He redirected the dagger with the heel of his palm, almost effortlessly. Mikan staggered back, surprised.
—What…?
Asori countered with a sharp strike that didn't even touch her—yet the pressure of compressed air hurled her several meters back. The ground cracked under her heels.
The onlookers fell silent.
Mikan rose, breathing hard. Her nervous smile betrayed disbelief.
—You can't be serious… you're not even transformed.
Asori looked at his hands, just as baffled.
—I don't understand it either…
Eryndor stepped in, voice even.
—It's simple. You spent a week on Mount Aeryon, where Astral is denser than anywhere else. Without realizing it, your body began storing and withstanding amounts of energy that would have destroyed anyone else. Now you're a stronger vessel… more resilient.
Asori lifted his gaze, astonished.
—So this power…?
—Is still only the beginning. —Eryndor's look turned serious—. In time, you won't need to transform to wield your Orb's power. But that day is still far off.
Blair felt a lump in her throat. She watched Asori with a mix of pride and tenderness. That clumsy, uncertain boy was changing before everyone's eyes.
When the demonstration ended, Eryndor produced a small chest and opened it. Inside lay a neatly folded outfit: fitted black trousers, a blue pullover reinforced with faintly glowing runes, and new boots of tough leather.
—Your old clothes won't survive the war. —He held the outfit out—. This is a symbol of what you are now: my pupil.
Asori took it with trembling hands.
—Thank you… master.
For the first time, he looked truly moved by a gift. Eryndor nodded, satisfied.
Hours later, gathered again in the council room, Tifa spoke firmly:
—You leave for the capital tomorrow. Mikrom… and Jason will be waiting. You must register for the tournament's preselection. It's not enough to win—you must do it without drawing attention. This tournament is no game: it's the stage where we'll see whether Zeknier moves his pieces.
The air tightened. Asori said nothing, but inside, the memory of fighting Jason burned. He didn't only want to win… he wanted to look him in the eye and force him to take back his words.
Blair felt it through the Sweet Kiss and pressed her lips together, worried.
That night, the castle gardens were bathed in silver moonlight. The murmur of wind through the leaves sounded like a soft hymn, as if the Astral itself breathed around them. Beneath an old tree, Asori sat wearing the new clothes Eryndor had given him. The blue and black made him look different—steadier, older. But when Blair saw him, she noticed that despite the change, the same shy awkwardness still hid in his smile, just like the day she'd met him in the forest.
She walked over and sat beside him without a word. For a long while, they shared only silence and the sound of the wind. It was an easy silence, one that didn't need breaking… and yet Blair dared to break it.
—Asori… —she murmured, voice trembling—. When all this is over… what will we be?
He looked up, startled by the question. For a moment, words failed him. Then he lowered his gaze, clenched a fist on his knee, and drew a deep breath.
—I don't know… —he admitted—. But there's something I am sure of. I don't want to lose you, Blair. Since I met you… you've become too important to me.
Blair blinked as warmth rushed to her cheeks. She glanced down, twirling a lock of hair, then met his eyes again.
—You know… when I think about everything we've been through… —her voice wavered—. The forest, the green apple pie, your training, our silly arguments, the Sweet Kiss, the pain of losing Lira… —she paused, swallowing—. I don't know how you endured it, Asori. You've changed so much in so little time… at first you were just a boy who wanted a quiet life, far from everything. And look at you now: a warrior who endures weeks of training, faces Megalos, and is still standing.
Asori smiled shyly, though pride glimmered in his eyes.
—I'm not as strong as you think… Many times I wanted to give up. —He touched his chest, where the Sweet Kiss still vibrated—. But every time I fell, I remembered your face, your voice… remembered that you saved my life when you had no reason to. And I thought: if Blair can believe in me, even if I'm a fool, then I can't allow myself to fall.
Blair stared, open-mouthed, as if each word drove straight into her heart.
—Asori…
He went on, gaze steady now.
—I don't know what we'll be when this war ends, because we don't know what tomorrow holds when we leave for the Capital. I don't know if peace will let us think about more than survival. But I do know this: I want to protect you. I can't imagine a world where you aren't there. Whether I win or lose, even if this war overwhelms me—so long as I breathe, I'll do whatever it takes to keep you by my side.
Tears welled in Blair's eyes, but this time they weren't sadness—they were pure emotion. She leaned in a little, voice barely a whisper.
—You're an idiot… —she said, with a trembling smile—. But you're my idiot.
She leaned further and kissed him gently on the forehead. The touch was warm, full of tenderness. Asori went utterly still, heart pounding like a drum, as if all the Astral in Azoth were vibrating inside his chest.
Blair knew they couldn't drift: the war, the tournament, Asori's training—everything ahead demanded them entirely. Even so, as she rested her brow on Asori's shoulder, she felt there was a time beyond duty, a secret space reserved only for the two of them.
He didn't answer with words. He simply intertwined his fingers with hers, and in that quiet touch, a promise neither dared to name was sealed.
They didn't need to say it. Both knew it: what they had was no longer simple friendship—now they were partners, accomplices, confidants.
Blair smiled through her tears, closing her eyes in relief. Asori smiled faintly, fatigue on his face and, at the same time, a calm he'd never known settling in his chest.
The moon shone on above, a silent witness to a bond that had grown far too much to hide behind the name of friendship.