_____
Hakan
A Few Days Ago…
The sky burned.
It was no longer blue nor even red, but a furious canvas of molten orange and black, streaked with smoke and ash. Flames devoured the city below, their glow reflecting endlessly across the clouds like a kingdom-sized pyre. Through that inferno, I descended.
The wind screamed around me—FWOOSH—a violent torrent clawing at my scales as my massive crimson form cut through the air. Each beat of my wings sent shockwaves rippling through the smoke. My heart thundered in my chest, not with fear, but with a cold, lethal fury that tightened my jaw and sharpened my gaze.
Then—
THUD.
My claws struck the ruined earth with crushing force, sending cracks spider-webbing through scorched stone. Dust and embers leapt skyward as I straightened to my full height.
Before me lay devastation.
Steel rang against steel—CLANG! CLANG!—screams echoed between collapsing structures, and fire crackled hungrily as it consumed what little remained of my home. Towers lay fractured, streets choked with rubble, banners torn and blackened. Soldiers fought desperately amid the chaos.
My vision darkened with rage.
"THOSE ROTTEN BRIONIANS…" I roared, my voice rolling across the battlefield like thunder. Flames flared instinctively along my throat as I surveyed the carnage they had dared to unleash.
My claws curled into the ground.
"How DARE they take advantage of my absence and invade while I was away…?!"
Clinging tightly against my armor was a much smaller presence—a flash of white hair against crimson scales. Lucina's arms were wrapped firmly around me, her grip unyielding despite the terror surrounding us.
"Something must have happened while we were away," I muttered, my eyes never leaving the battlefield. Something was wrong—deeply wrong.
Lucina swallowed, then nodded. "I know."
"Hold on tight," I instructed her, my wings flexing. "I need to assess the situation."
"Okay," she replied, steady and brave, even as the inferno raged below.
With a powerful surge, I launched forward again. The world blurred into streaks of red and smoke as I accelerated—WHOOSH—cutting straight toward the heart of the conflict.
---
As we descended, Lucina suddenly stiffened.
"One moment, Hakan… something's not right."
I slowed instantly, hovering above the battlefield. Turning my massive head toward her, I followed her line of sight.
Below us, soldiers were locked in vicious combat.
But they wore the same armor.
Men who should have stood shoulder to shoulder were instead cutting each other down with merciless precision. Blades flashed, blood sprayed, and confusion ruled their eyes.
Lucina's breath caught.
"Our soldiers…" she whispered. "They're fighting each other."
A horrifying realization dawned on her face, draining the color from her skin. Her fingers tightened against my armor.
"What if…" Her voice trembled as she looked up at me.
"WHAT IF THE SHIFTERS ARE INVOLVED IN THIS WAR?"
The words struck harder than any weapon.
Shifters.
That ancient, parasitic threat—masters of deception, sowers of chaos. My jaw tightened as a low, dangerous rumble built in my chest.
If they were here… then this war was never what it seemed.
---
🛡️ A Plan of Action
The thought hardened into resolve.
"If Shifters are behind this," I said slowly, each word weighted with authority, "then we restore order by exposing them first."
I clenched my fist.
"WE ALSO NEED TO RELAY THIS INFORMATION TO THE BRION KINGDOM."
Only by revealing the truth could this madness be stopped.
I gave a firm nod, the plan settling like iron in my mind.
Lucina, however, was already thinking ahead. She reached into her satchel and withdrew a small pouch, its contents faintly shimmering.
"We still have powdered black hawk droppings," she said. "The ones we received from the Wolf Tribe."
A soft, magical glow surrounded her hands as she held it up—brilliant and fragile against the surrounding destruction.
"Let's find that first."
---
🏰 Shifters in the Palace
"I think there's only a small amount left," Lucina added as she examined the pouch. "Most of it was taken by soldiers on the front lines. They're doing fine without me."
I tightened my grip on my weapon, the metal humming faintly as my resolve sharpened.
"WE CAN'T AFFORD TO LOSE THIS BATTLE."
I turned toward the palace gates, looming and scarred.
"WE'RE GOING TO DEAL WITH ALL THE SHIFTERS INSIDE THE PALACE."
"Okay!" Lucina replied instantly, determination blazing in her eyes.
With a powerful CLENCH, I surged forward. Lucina held fast as we stormed through shattered doors and into the palace corridors, our footsteps echoing sharply against stone slick with ash and blood.
Then—
A sudden movement.
A woman stepped into view, clutching a basket. Her eyes widened in pure shock as I halted before her with a sharp STEP.
"OH—! Y-YOUR MAJESTY?!" she gasped, recoiling with a visible FLINCH.
My weapon rose in a swift, controlled SWISH.
"WHO'S THERE?!"
She dropped instantly to her knees, hands raised, trembling.
"W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOUR MAJESTY?!" she cried. "I-I JUST GOT LOST WHILE TRYING TO FIND THE SHELTER!"
My eyes narrowed.
"Hmph." A low growl escaped me. "I'm not going to fall for that kind of trick again."
My gaze shifted—downward.
"The shelter," I said coldly, "is in the opposite direction from here."
Her breath hitched.
"And that piercing…" I leaned closer, eyes locking onto the small earring hanging from her ear, swaying with a faint metallic CLUNK.
"I'VE NEVER HEARD SUCH AN OBVIOUS LIE BEFORE."
Her composure shattered.
"H-HOW DID YOU KNOW?!"
"Close your eyes, Lucina," I ordered quietly.
She obeyed instantly, squeezing them shut—SQUEEZE—her hands gripping my armor.
The strike was swift.
A brutal SLASH cut through the air. The woman's scream was choked short as the basket fell from her grasp, clattering across the floor.
She collapsed, rolling—ROLL—into a widening pool of blood.
Then—
From her sleeve, something unnatural emerged.
A dark, grotesque hand, twisted and monstrous, tore free with a wet TSSSS, writhing where human flesh should have been.
The truth lay exposed.
She was a Shifter.
---
"I think there's only a small amount left," Lucina said quietly, her fingers tightening around the small pouch. The faint shimmer of its contents caught the palace torchlight as she added, "Most of it was taken by the soldiers fighting on the front lines. They're doing fine without me."
Her calm steadiness only hardened my resolve.
"WE CAN'T AFFORD TO LOSE THIS BATTLE," I growled, my fist clenching so tightly the metal of my gauntlet creaked. "WE'RE GOING TO DEAL WITH ALL THE SHIFTERS INSIDE THE PALACE."
Lucina straightened at once, determination lighting her expression.
"OKAY!"
We moved swiftly, our footsteps echoing through the once-opulent palace halls. Marble pillars were cracked, banners torn, and the air carried the metallic scent of blood beneath the incense and smoke. Every shadow felt alive, every corner a potential threat.
Then—
A sudden STEP echoed ahead of us.
A woman emerged from the corridor, clutching a basket. Her eyes widened in pure shock as she spotted me.
"O-Oh…! Y-YOUR MAJESTY?" she stammered, recoiling with a sharp FLINCH.
In a single motion, I raised my polearm. The blade cut the air with a decisive SWISH.
"WHO'S THERE?!"
The woman dropped instantly to her knees, the basket clattering to the floor.
"W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOUR MAJESTY?!" she cried desperately. "I-I JUST GOT LOST WHILE TRYING TO FIND THE SHELTER!"
I didn't lower my weapon.
"Hmph," I said coldly. "I'm not going to fall for that kind of trick again."
My gaze sharpened as I studied her—then paused.
Her ear.
A small earring caught the light, swaying slightly with a dull metallic CLUNK.
"THE SHELTER IS IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION FROM HERE," I said, my voice dropping. "AND THAT PIERCING…"
Her breath hitched.
"I'VE NEVER HEARD SUCH AN OBVIOUS LIE BEFORE."
The color drained from her face.
"H-HOW DID YOU KNOW?" she gasped, her carefully constructed fear collapsing into panic.
I didn't answer her.
"Close your eyes, Lucina," I ordered, my voice grave and unyielding.
Lucina obeyed at once, squeezing them shut—SQUEEZE—her hand gripping my armor.
The strike was swift.
A sharp, crimson SLASH tore through the silence.
The woman screamed and fell, her body hitting the floor hard before rolling—ROLL—across the marble. Blood spread beneath her, dark and fast.
Then something moved.
From within her sleeve, a grotesque, unnatural limb forced its way out with a wet TSSSS. The skin warped and split, revealing a monstrous, blackened hand—inhuman and writhing.
There was no doubt.
The Shifter was exposed.
We continued clearing the palace corridors, every encounter sharpening the tension—until another presence made itself known.
A man stepped forward, composed yet wary. He was tall, strikingly handsome, clad in Brionian armor, his helmet held respectfully under one arm.
I studied him carefully.
"Aren't you… THE PRINCE OF THE BRION KINGDOM?" I asked, recognition clicking into place.
He inclined his head slightly.
"I'M HONORED THAT YOU REMEMBER ME."
"It's unfortunate," I said slowly, "that we meet again on a battlefield."
My eyes narrowed. "You used to talk down to me. WHY HAS YOUR ATTITUDE CHANGED?"
A faint smile crossed his face—not mocking, but sincere.
"After you listened to my request," he replied, "I realized the rumors about you were wrong."
"Hm…" I murmured.
Beside me, Lucina gently nudged—NUDGE—the pouch at her waist, a silent reminder of the greater threat we faced.
I cleared my throat—AHEM.
"I'M GLAD YOU CHANGED YOUR MIND ABOUT ME."
I met his gaze squarely. "SO, WHY WERE YOU LOOKING FOR ME?"
His expression turned grave.
"I WANT TO END THIS WAR."
The words landed heavily between us.
"I don't want any more unnecessary bloodshed either," I admitted.
Lucina's face lit up at once.
"HAKAN!" she exclaimed. "I AGREE WITH YOUR DESIRE TO AVOID ANY UNNECESSARY BLOODSHED!"
"…Very well," I said at last.
Turning sharply, I addressed the soldier at my side.
"Turan," I commanded, "go and tell our soldiers… TO STOP ATTACKING THE BRIONIAN SOLDIERS FOR NOW."
The Prince bowed deeply—BOW—his respect unmistakable.
"I told my father that we have no reason to go to war with you," he said, his voice heavy. "That these recent battles have already left us in a terrible state. But he won't listen."
His jaw tightened.
"Why would we suddenly go to war with the Tayar Kingdom?"
From somewhere deeper in the palace, an older man's voice thundered in fury:
"WE HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO REASON TO DO THAT!"
Then, sharper still—
"SILENCE!"
The Prince exhaled slowly and shook his head.
"He only listens to Marissa," he said quietly, referring to the woman who whispered endlessly at his father's side upon the throne.
He looked back at me and bowed again, lower this time.
"Please… stop my father from making the same foolish mistakes again."
I met his gaze, the truth weighing heavily on me.
"THE DRAGON SLAYERS ARE DEMONIC CREATURES CALLED SHIFTERS," I said, my voice carrying through the corridor. "THEY CAN TRANSFORM INTO OTHER PEOPLE."
The surrounding soldiers stiffened.
"EVEN NOW, THEY'RE WREAKING HAVOC BY WEARING THE FACES OF OTHERS."
A ripple of shock spread through the ranks. The soldiers began to MURMUR among themselves.
"Shifters…?"
"I didn't know they were real…"
"No way…"
The truth had been spoken aloud at last—and it changed everything.
The Brionian Prince stepped forward and bowed deeply before me, his posture rigid with restraint rather than pride.
"I told my father that we have no reason to go to war with you," he said, his voice tight with frustration. "That the recent battles have already left our kingdom in a terrible state. But… he won't listen to me."
His hands clenched at his sides as the question spilled from him, heavy with disbelief.
"WHY WOULD WE SUDDENLY GO TO WAR WITH THE TAYAR KINGDOM?"
Before I could answer, another voice thundered through the palace halls.
"WE HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO REASON TO DO THAT!"
The sound echoed, raw with anger—followed instantly by a sharper, more domineering command.
"SILENCE!"
The Prince closed his eyes briefly, pain crossing his face. When he opened them again, there was only resignation.
"He only listens to Marissa," he said quietly, glancing toward the distant throne room where a woman's whispers ruled a king's decisions.
Then he bowed again—lower than before.
"Please," he pleaded, his voice stripped of royal formality, "stop my father from making the same foolish mistakes again."
I studied him carefully, and in that moment, the true shape of the enemy became clear.
"The Dragon Slayers," I said grimly, my voice carrying across the soldiers nearby, "are not heroes."
"They are demonic creatures called Shifters—beings capable of transforming into other people."
A chill spread through the air.
"Even now," I continued, "they are wreaking havoc by wearing familiar faces and poisoning kingdoms from within."
Around us, soldiers began to MURMUR, their voices hushed and fearful.
"Shifters…?"
"I didn't know they were real…"
"No way…"
My jaw tightened.
"And Marissa," I added, teeth grinding with a sharp GRIT, "is the most wicked of them all."
The Prince recoiled as if struck.
"I didn't know Marissa had the King of Brion wrapped around her finger…" His eyes widened in horror. "Are you saying she's a demonic creature?!"
Silence followed.
Then, slowly, the truth settled into him.
"…I understand," he said at last.
I fixed my stare on him, unwavering.
"You must tell your king who she really is," I said firmly. "He might come to his senses once he hears the truth."
I stepped closer.
"It's up to you to persuade him."
Then, more quietly, I added, "There's a chance he's already noticed that something is wrong."
The Prince looked around him—at the shattered stone, the scorched banners, the exhausted soldiers.
"He's right," he muttered.
Without another word, he mounted his horse. The reins snapped taut as the beast surged forward, hooves striking the ground in a thunderous GALLOP.
"We never stood a chance of winning this war from the start," he said under his breath.
As he rode, doubt gnawed at him.
"Why would my father keep fighting a war we can't win?"
A courtier rushed toward him, panic clear on his face.
"Your Highness! What's the situation on the front lines?" he asked urgently. "If it doesn't look good—"
"Let's go," the Prince cut him off, determination hardening his tone.
"Yes, Your Highness!" his accompanying soldiers responded at once.
The decision was made.
Earlier—
"I think there's only a small amount left," Lucina informed me, holding the pouch carefully. "Most of it was taken by the soldiers fighting on the front lines. They're doing fine without me."
I tightened my grip on my weapon, resolve burning in my eyes.
"WE CAN'T AFFORD TO LOSE THIS BATTLE."
I stepped forward.
"WE'RE GOING TO DEAL WITH ALL THE SHIFTERS INSIDE THE PALACE."
"Okay!" Lucina replied without hesitation.
We moved swiftly through the corridors when suddenly—
A woman stepped out with a quick STEP.
"O-Oh…! Y-YOUR MAJESTY?" she stammered, recoiling with a sharp FLINCH.
I halted instantly, raising my weapon in a decisive SWISH.
"WHO'S THERE?!"
She dropped to her knees, hands raised.
"W-What are you doing, Your Majesty?!" she cried. "I just got lost while trying to find the shelter!"
My gaze hardened.
"Hmph. I'm not going to fall for that kind of trick again."
My eyes fell to her ear.
A small earring swayed—CLUNK.
"The shelter is in the opposite direction from here," I said coldly. "And that piercing…"
Her breathing faltered.
"I've never heard such an obvious lie before."
"H-How did you know?!" she stammered.
"Close your eyes, Lucina," I ordered grimly.
She squeezed them shut—SQUEEZE.
The strike was swift and merciless.
A sharp SLASH cut through the air.
The woman collapsed, rolling across the floor—ROLL—as blood spread beneath her.
Then—
A dark, monstrous hand forced its way out from her sleeve with a sickening TSSSS.
There was no denying it.
She was a Shifter.
As we continued forward, another presence emerged.
I narrowed my eyes.
"Aren't you… the Prince of the Brion Kingdom?"
"I'm honored that you remember me," he replied.
"It's unfortunate that we meet again on the battlefield," I said evenly.
My gaze sharpened. "You used to talk down to me. Why has your attitude changed?"
He offered a faint smile. "After you listened to my request, I realized the rumors about you were wrong."
"Hm…"
Lucina gently nudged—NUDGE—the pouch at her side.
I cleared my throat—AHEM.
"I'm glad you changed your mind about me. So why were you looking for me?"
His expression turned grave.
"I want to end this war."
"I don't want any more unnecessary bloodshed," I replied.
"Hakan!" Lucina exclaimed brightly. "I agree with your desire to avoid unnecessary bloodshed!"
"…Very well."
I turned sharply.
"Turan," I commanded, "go and tell our soldiers… to stop attacking the Brionian soldiers for now."
The Prince bowed deeply.
"I told my father we have no reason to go to war," he repeated bitterly. "But he won't listen."
A harsh voice echoed again.
"WE HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO REASON TO DO THAT!"
"SILENCE!"
"He only listens to Marissa," the Prince said. "Please… stop him."
I spoke without hesitation.
"The Dragon Slayers are Shifters. They can transform into other people. Even now, they're spreading chaos."
The soldiers murmured again in disbelief.
"And Marissa," I said, grinding my teeth, "is the most wicked of them all."
Shock overtook the Prince.
"…I understand."
I met his gaze.
"You must tell your king who she really is. It's up to you."
"There's a chance he's already noticed something strange."
The Prince nodded.
He mounted his horse and rode hard, doubt and resolve battling within him.
A courtier rushed after him.
"Your Highness! What's the situation on the front lines—?"
"Where is His Majesty?" the Prince demanded, breath short—HUFF.
"He's stayed inside the barracks the whole time," the courtier answered. "He's ordered everyone to stay out."
The Prince's resolve hardened.
"He might change his mind once he learns Marissa is a demonic creature."
"Please stop, Your Highness! His Majesty will—"
"Let's go," the Prince commanded.
"Yes, Your Highness!
With that, he rode on—to confront the King of Brion and the Shifter who ruled beside him.
The Brionian Prince entered the camp with unshaken resolve, his expression carved from urgency and fear alike. Soldiers turned as he passed, sensing the weight of his purpose. His boots struck the hardened earth in a hurried, echoing STEP, then another, and another—each one louder than the courtier's desperate pleas behind him.
"Please stop, Your Highness!" the courtier cried, struggling to keep up. "His Majesty will be furious!"
The Prince did not slow.
The King's barracks loomed ahead, dark and heavily guarded, its presence oppressive even from a distance. The air around it felt wrong—thick, stagnant, as if something unseen was pressing down upon the camp itself.
He stopped just outside the entrance.
"Father," the Prince called, steadying his voice despite the storm in his chest. "I've come to update you on the current situation." He hesitated only a moment. "May I come in?"
The response was immediate—and violent.
"GET LOST!"
The roar tore through the canvas walls like a blade.
"I TOLD YOU ALREADY!" the voice thundered again. "NO ONE IS ALLOWED INSIDE!"
The Prince closed his eyes briefly and drew in a slow breath. His hand lifted, fingers tightening as he REACHED toward the door—then stopped. Frustration burned through him, but he forced it down, turning his head slightly.
Only then did he realize it.
Marissa.
The woman must have followed his father all the way to the battlefield, clinging to his side, feeding him poison even as the kingdom burned. The thought made his jaw clench.
I can't back down this time, he thought, his eye hardening with resolve. Not now.
Inside the barracks, the King of Brion rose from his seat—RISE—his expression twisted with irritation.
"It seems like the useless Prince is here," he muttered coldly, his tone dripping with contempt. "I'll leave the rest to you."
Behind him stood a dark-haired woman, her presence calm and assured. Marissa stepped forward, brushing her fingers across her forehead as if smoothing away a trivial inconvenience.
"Yes, my lady," she replied smoothly.
Then, her lips curved upward.
"It's time," she whispered, voice laced with cruel delight, "to pay my child a visit."
Her smile sharpened, no warmth in it—only intent.
The news reached me swiftly.
The Prince's attempt to reason with his father had failed.
I exhaled slowly as the final piece fell into place. It confirmed everything I had feared.
Marissa—the Shifter—had complete control over the King of Brion.
I turned toward Lucina, my expression grim but resolute.
"Lucina," I said, my voice low and steady. "The Prince has done his part. He's exposed the King's strange behavior to his own people."
I clenched my fist.
"Now, we use the advantage we have."
My gaze fell briefly to the pouch at her side. The black hawk droppings—unremarkable in appearance, yet deadly to deception—were the only means left to expose Marissa before she could strike again.
"They're the only way to reveal her true form," I said. "Before she causes even more damage."
Straightening, I turned toward the palace corridors.
"Let's move out," I commanded. "We're going to use the powder now."
My eyes hardened.
"We need to find where she's going."