Vale and Drago stood facing one another for a long while, neither speaking. Their mouths hung empty of words, their thoughts circling the same forbidden idea again and again, the Father of Flaws, and how such a being could possibly be connected to the so-called false angels.
Eventually, it was Drago who broke the silence.
"If the inscriptions are to be believed," he said slowly, his voice low and thoughtful, "then the Father of Flaws was treated as a savior. The false angels, on the other hand, were depicted as devils."
He folded his arms loosely beneath his robe.
"The most plausible explanation," Drago continued, "is that the Father of Flaws was a higher being who protected people from the false angels."
He paused, then let out a dry breath.
"Though clearly, that protection failed. Whoever worshipped him still died."
Vale studied Drago's face for a moment, then nodded slowly.
"Yeah," he agreed. "But we shouldn't rule out the possibility that he was an old god either."
Drago glanced at him and nodded once in return, then yawned deeply, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I'm exhausted," he said plainly. "I'll sleep on this. I already know most of the answers that can be known."
He turned slightly away.
"You two should focus on training, or resting. Overthinking this won't help right now."
Vale raised an eyebrow, watching him for a moment before speaking.
"Wait," Vale said. "Do you know anything about the divine beasts?"
Drago stopped mid-step and looked back over his shoulder.
"Yes," he replied after a moment. "Though almost nothing is known about them."
Vale frowned faintly.
"Huh," he muttered.
Drago didn't linger. He turned and walked off, yawning again as he went. His long robe dragged across the stone floor like fresh ink spilling across parchment, the sound slowly fading into silence.
Vale stood there for a moment, saying nothing.
Then he turned toward Eskar.
'I should probably change topics,' Vale thought. 'Thinking about all this for too long is going to drain me dry. And Drago can answer my questions whenever he feels like it anyway.'
He exhaled, then looked directly at Eskar.
Eskar stood with his arms crossed, the onyx blade resting at his waist. His expression was neutral, unreadable.
"So," Vale said, tilting his head slightly, "do you know if you actually like Nova or not?"
Eskar's eyes widened, just barely, for a fraction of a second. His expression remained indifferent, but the pause that followed was unmistakable.
He looked away, scanning the room as if searching for an answer in the walls themselves. After a moment, he turned back to Vale.
"No," Eskar said simply. "Not yet."
Vale blinked, surprised.
Before he could respond, the Shade suddenly shifted. It had been standing nearby in silence, but now it turned toward them, slowly raising a hand to its chin as if stroking an invisible beard.
Vale glanced at it, confused.
Eskar noticed too and smirked faintly.
"What about you?" Eskar asked, turning back to Vale. "Have you figured out whether you like Nym yet?"
Vale's eyes widened, and he let out a short, surprised chuckle.
"No," he said quickly. "Me and Nym are just friends."
The words came easily, but then something tugged at him.
His mind drifted back to the last conversation they had shared before being teleported to this realm. The unfinished words. The tension. The distance.
Vale's smile faded.
"Or… at least we used to be," he added quietly, regret creeping into his voice.
Eskar studied him for a moment, his tone unchanged.
"I see," he said.
Before anything more could be said, the Shade moved.
It stepped toward Vale, slowly, deliberately, each heavy footfall echoing through the chamber. Vale looked up at the towering shadow, curiosity flickering across his face.
"Is something wrong?" Vale asked.
The Shade stopped directly in front of him.
Its crimson eyes narrowed, glowing faintly brighter. Then, without warning, it stepped back and raised its fists into a guarded stance.
Vale's eyes widened.
He pointed at himself hesitantly.
"You want to fight me?"
The Shade nodded once.
Then lowered its fists again, waiting.
Vale swallowed, nervous tension creeping into his chest. He glanced past the Shade toward Eskar.
"You want to join?" Vale asked. "Just in case?"
Eskar regarded him for a moment, then shrugged.
"Sure," he said. "Wouldn't hurt."
The Shade turned toward Eskar, and suddenly raised its hand toward the massive greatsword still embedded in the ground.
The blade trembled.
Then it moved.
As if summoned by will alone, the sword ripped free and flew into the Shade's grasp. In the same motion, it swung the weapon with incredible force.
A violent gust of wind exploded outward.
Vale threw his arm up to shield his face, eyes squeezed shut as the air roared around them. The pressure was overwhelming, like being caught in the wake of a storm.
When the wind finally settled, Vale opened his eyes.
They were no longer in the same room.
Stone walls stretched outward into a familiar, vast expanse. The towering pillars. The open space.
They had returned to the Shade's original arena.
Vale stared, stunned.
He turned toward the Shade, which now stood tall with its greatsword resting at its side.
"How did you do that?" Vale asked.
The Shade rolled its eyes and shrugged.
Vale scowled slightly.
"Fine," he muttered. "Don't tell me."
He looked past the shadow and saw Eskar stepping back, positioning himself near one of the massive pillars. Eskar leaned against it casually, arms crossed, gaze sharp.
"Feel free to start whenever you're ready," Eskar said indifferently.
Vale exhaled slowly, eyes locked on the towering Shade.
The Shade studied Vale in silence, its massive frame tilting slightly, as if reassessing him.
Vale met its gaze for a moment, tension coiling in his chest. Instinctively, his hand drifted toward the hilt of his onyx blade. The familiar weight of it grounded him, steel was honest, predictable.
The Shade noticed.
In an instant, it reacted.
Before Vale could even touch the hilt, the Shade seized its own greatsword and hurled it away with terrifying ease. The massive weapon tore through the air like a black comet, its weight screaming against the wind before it slammed into the stone wall of the arena. The impact shook the ground. Cracks spiderwebbed outward as the blade buried itself deep into the stone, vibrating violently before finally going still.
Eskar's eyes widened with every fraction of a second the sword traveled.
"…That wall was reinforced," he muttered.
Vale stared at the embedded weapon, then slowly turned back to the Shade.
'This definitely won't end well,' he thought grimly.
The Shade raised one massive fist, then shifted its gaze pointedly toward Vale's blade.
Vale blinked.
He looked down at his weapon, then back up at the Shade, confusion flickering across his face. Slowly, he opened his mouth.
"You want to fight… hand to hand?"
The Shade's crimson eyes narrowed.
It nodded once.
Vale fell silent. For a long moment, he simply stared at the towering shadow before him, at its size, its posture, the casual confidence in the way it stood unarmed. Then he let out a deep, resigned sigh.
"…Alright."
He loosened his grip on the hilt and let the blade fall from his hand. The weapon clattered against the stone floor with a sharp metallic echo. Vale unfastened the scabbard from his waist as well and tossed it aside, where it skidded across the arena and came to rest near one of the pillars.
He rolled his shoulders, then clenched and unclenched his fingers, stretching his arm as faint tension rippled through his muscles. His mechanical limb hummed softly, responding to the shift in intent.
Vale raised his fists.
He lifted his gaze and locked eyes with the Shade, pale against crimson, human against something far older and stronger.
A faint, crooked smile tugged at his lips.
"Alright," Vale said quietly.
"After you."