The inn where they were staying buzzed with murmurs and hurried footsteps. Warriors from different kingdoms came and went, all with the same goal: the tournament. But in a room on the second floor, Blair's group sat gathered around a worn wooden table.
Mikrom had a leaflet with tournament details spread out, pointing at it with his finger.
—So it's simple: we have to reach the final. It doesn't matter who falls in the earlier rounds, as long as at least two of us make it to the end.
Blair nodded, brows furrowed.
—The bearer of Light… I still don't understand what Zeknier gains by offering her as the prize. He's not giving away any real advantage.
Mikan, leaning back in a chair with her feet propped up on the table, twirled a wooden stick between her fingers.
—And it's not that simple. Reaching the finals means at some point we'll have to fight each other. That includes Jason. And Blair, that boy isn't the same one you knew. If you ask me, I don't trust him at all.
Everyone stared at her, surprised by her blunt words. They hadn't considered that Jason no longer had any obligation to the Kingdom of Azoth—not when Asori was now the one holding the secret weapon of the war: the Sweet Kiss.
—I'm surprised you're only realizing this now. —Mikan's tone was serious—. Nothing guarantees that the King of Donner wouldn't want a bearer on his side. Jason could easily try to take her. He's not bound to help us.
The princess bit her lip, but Mikrom raised his voice.
—Jason's been training on a nearby mountain. He'll arrive tomorrow, just in time for the preliminary trials. Mikan, maybe you're right. But all we can do is trust that Jason's word still stands to end this war.
The name Jason fell heavy across the table. Blair tightened her hands in her lap, while Asori turned away, uncomfortable.
—Then we need to register as soon as possible —Mikan cut in—. The trials start at dawn.
Mikrom handed out fake IDs, official seals bought from one of his Capital contacts.
—Here. As long as these don't raise suspicion, no one will know who you really are.
Asori took his. The parchment trembled in his hands. The false name was written in bold strokes, but all he could see was the face of a girl smiling beside him when he first got such a record. Lira.
The air weighed down his lungs. He rose suddenly.
—I'll be right back. There's something I need to do.
Blair stood too, alarmed, guilt rising through the Sweet Kiss.
—Where are you going?
He brushed her head gently, with a forced smile.
—I won't be long. I just need… to see something.
Blair wanted to stop him but held back. She nodded in silence, watching him leave.
Mikrom smirked.
—Well, well… so now the kid pets your head like you're his.
—It's not like that! —Blair shot back, face flushed.
Mikan chimed in, her mocking tone intact.
—Come on, princess, admit it. You two may not be "dating," but we all know you're not just friends anymore.
Blair glared at them, but she couldn't deny the truth.
—We're… in this together. That's all.
Mikrom smirked sideways.
—Then make the most of tonight. I'm sure Asori went to a certain place to remember someone. When he gets back, make him happy. He'll need it, your boyfriend.
Blair opened her mouth, but the words stuck. Her cheeks burned.
Mikrom, trying to divert the focus, turned to Mikan with a flirty grin.
—And you? Don't you want to make someone happy tonight?
—You? —Mikan gave him a once-over and chuckled—. Not in your wildest dreams. But… if you win the tournament and hand me the prize, maybe I'll grant you a date.
She flashed a slyly playful smile. Mikrom noticed—and grinned back.
Meanwhile, Asori walked with his head low, Capital lights shimmering in puddles across the cobbled streets. The city was alive, bustling, but to him it was a distant echo. Every step carried him inevitably to that alley—the place where everything had changed.
When he turned the corner, silence hit harder than any cry. There it was. The very spot where Lira had fallen, where her insolent laughter had been silenced. The same stones stained with memory.
Asori knelt, pressing his hand against the cold ground. For a heartbeat, he thought he heard her voice:
"Hey, hooded guy, lost or what? I can guide you—I'm the best guide in the Capital."
The air jammed in his chest. He bit his lip until it bled.
—Lira… —he whispered, voice cracking—. I couldn't save you. I shut my eyes when you needed me most… I'm so sorry. I couldn't even give you that apple.
The wind stirred, tousling his hair. His fists shook.
—But I swear I'll never look away again. I'll end this war. And when we meet in another life… —his voice trembled, but a smile cracked through the tears— I'll give you your apple.
Breathing deep, calming himself, he went on softly:
—You know something? You were right. I smile so much when I'm with Blair. She was there when you left this world… I don't know what I'd have done without her. But she calmed me, showed me things differently. I promise you both—I'll do what's right. I won't stain my hands with blood.
He stayed kneeling until the cold pierced his bones. Only when the moon was high did he force himself up. The air was heavy, but resolution held him steady.
Mikrom was waiting at the inn's entrance, leaning against the frame, arms crossed, smirking.
—Well, I thought you weren't coming back.
Asori could only look at him, words weighing on his chest.
—Sorry if I worried you. Though… Blair probably knew where I was, thanks to the bond.
—Then talk to your princess. —Mikrom chuckled, patting his shoulder—. She asked you to share a room with her. Says she wants to make sure you're all right.
Asori froze, blood rushing to his face.
—What…?
—Exactly what you heard. —Mikrom winked—. If I were you, I'd take the chance. Not every day a princess volunteers to watch you snore.
—That's not it! —Asori blurted, red as a tomato.
—Sure, sure. —Mikrom let him pass, still laughing.
Asori carefully opened the room's door. Blair was there, asleep on the bed, blanket half-fallen, the candlelight catching in her silver hair. Her serene face was a stark contrast to all they'd been through.
He sighed—relieved and guilty all at once. Quietly, he stepped closer, leaned down, and kissed her forehead.
—Thank you… for not letting me fall. If you and Lira had known each other better, you would've been great friends.
He turned to lie on the floor, but then a hand caught him. Blair, half-asleep, pulled him onto the bed with surprising strength.
—Blair…?!
She clung to him desperately, burying his face in her chest.
—It was nice… that you went to talk to Lira —she mumbled in her sleep.
Asori's heart clenched. He wanted to answer, but his throat closed. All he could do was cry quietly, chest trembling with each sob. Blair held him, stroking his hair, and kissed his forehead tenderly.
—Everything's going to be fine, Asori. Lira would be proud of the warrior you've become, I promise.
He grit his teeth, hiding his face against her. He wasn't the warrior he wanted to be—not yet. But in that moment, with Blair at his side, he allowed himself to be just a broken boy, needing to hear those words from the most important person in his life.
They stayed like that until sleep claimed them.
At first light, the group met at the inn's entrance. Mikrom was in high spirits, Mikan hummed idly, and Blair walked with steady steps—though her cheeks were still pink. Sharing a bed with Asori, now that they were more than friends, left her nervous but happy.
Asori came last, his gaze still tired, but with a new firmness in his eyes.
—Ready? —Mikrom asked.
Asori clenched his fist.
—Yes. Let's go to the tournament.
And so, amid the city's bustle and rising tension, the group marched toward the coliseum.