When your world crumbles, gather the pieces to build anew.
I was chatting with Alex in the middle of the hallway when Jo and Coffee began making their way to the stairs. Suddenly, Jo stumbled, let out a startled squeal, and began to fall—her descent looking unstoppable. Every muscle in my body tensed, ready to leap into action, but before I could move, Coffee shot me a warning look and grabbed Jo's hand. She held it firmly until Jo regained her balance. As Jo blushed, gasping in embarrassment, I slowly pulled my gaze away from her.
Alex let out a breath of relief, and I nodded, forcing my muscles to relax again.
He gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and we continued toward the next classroom. At the time, I thought it was just a harmless little slip-up, something anyone could have done. I didn't think much of it. Jo was back to her usual self after a week of feeling down, as if nothing had happened.
Later, we met up for lunch in front of the canteen, taking our usual table. Jo pulled out a large box from her bag, a huge grin spreading across her face. She opened it, and an immediate, sharp stench of garlic hit my nose. Alex almost fell off the chair next to me, but I couldn't tell if it was from disgust or terror.
"Want some?" Jo asked, offering the pungent garlic-filled box as if it were a prized delicacy.
Coffee, unfazed, picked out a garlic stick and started chewing it with a blank expression. I followed suit, biting into one with enthusiasm. Alex, however, eyed the box like it contained something truly terrifying. He politely declined.
"Erm," he began, his voice awkward, his face twisting as he fought to keep from grimacing, "I'll pass, thanks."
I grinned wickedly and took another bite. Yeah, having a wolf's nose definitely has its drawbacks—especially when it comes to garlic.
Jo, for a moment, seemed taken aback by Alex's refusal. After all, he could devour an entire mountain of food in one sitting, never turning down anything. The sight of him refusing was unusual. Then her eyes lit up, as if she'd made a sudden realization. At the time, I thought she had simply figured out that Alex hated garlic. It wasn't until much later that I realized the true implications of her sudden realization—and my own mistake.
Later, Coffee pulled me aside.
"I failed," she said, though she must have known I already understood.
"Yeah," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.
"What happens now?" she asked, her voice heavy with resignation.
"The wild vampires are fewer in the city, and they're taking fewer people," I explained. "The Fifth is shifting its forces westward, aiming to take on the vampires and the Crospherat first. After that, the fae will either side with him or not. The mages will likely be divided. As for the dwarves, they'll probably treat it as a business deal—neutral, but arming both sides."
Coffee didn't look pleased with what I said, but I wasn't surprised.
"You needn't worry," I added. "Once the Fifth makes a direct move to kill Crimson, the kings will have no choice but to destroy him. After that, the battle will likely be over within a week."
"But many will die before that happens," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Certainly," I replied. "And that's not our only concern. In a war, our secret could easily be exposed to humans. And then we'll have to deal with them, too."
"This is insane!" she groaned.
"Yes, it is," I said dryly. "It's called war."
(...)
My working hours passed unusually quickly. Maybe my guests sensed the chaos that was about to unfold and chose the safety of their homes instead. I closed early, but I didn't mind.
Alex was waiting in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a small cup of brandy in hand. When I walked in, he didn't look up right away. For a moment, his gaze stayed fixed on the liquid, and then, slowly—very slowly—he met my eyes. There was a tired, resigned look in them, and I could tell immediately that he knew. He hadn't had the time to process it, to pull himself together. He certainly hadn't expected me home this early.
"Interesting," he said quietly, breaking the silence. "The Kings and the Crospherat are so quiet."
I placed my hand gently on his shoulder, a small gesture I hoped would reassure him. I wanted to tell him that everything would be fine, that nothing was wrong—but the words stuck in my throat. He knew, and we both knew that words couldn't fix this. We were on the edge of war.
Alex looked unusually pale, fragile even. In that moment, I understood. I finally grasped what the average monster must feel—the fear they bury deep, the self-deception they hold on to, and the way they try to delay the inevitable. They were terrified.
I had known the fear of war, of what it could do, but facing the terror Alex felt was different. It was the overwhelming dread of death, of loss, and of all the lives that would be shattered.
On the table beside him was his phone, an article opened on Kaleidoscope, and a plate of cold food. I sat down and mechanically began to eat, the motions automatic, my mind elsewhere.
"War is coming, Shay," he said, his voice heavy.
I didn't need to explain what that meant. Blood. Death. Pain. Tears. There was nothing else.
"The disasters and mysterious murders humans are writing about," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "They're all the Fifth, aren't they?"
"Yes," I answered, my voice low.
"Can the Fifth... win?" Alex asked, quieter than a breath.
He was up against four kings and a fractured society. But the fact that he had resorted to terror instead of direct confrontation told me one thing—he wasn't strong enough to take them head-on yet. Terror was a tool, a means of weakening alliances, of creating fear and division so he could strike when the time was right.
I had to admit to myself that he had been remarkably successful so far.
"There's always a chance of victory," I said, though my words felt hollow in the face of what was to come.
"Things don't look good for us right now," Alex added, and I nodded in agreement.
Even if the kings were to win—which I had no doubt they would—it would come at an immense cost in lives.
"You're remarkably calm," he observed, his voice tinged with something I couldn't quite place.
Alex shivered, and I heard the soft tap on the window before he did. But then I realized—his face wasn't frozen in fear because of the noise; he was seated opposite the window, and he could see immediately that it was just a bird. It wasn't the noise that had rattled him—it was my reaction. I had spun the knife in my hand, instinctively gripping it, ready to attack or defend at a moment's notice.
Without a word, I stood up and opened the window. The bird flew in and landed gracefully. I untied the paper from its leg, and the bird took off again without a glance, as if its task was complete.
The message was simple, almost cryptic:
[The Crosspherat convened an extraordinary meeting. G.]
I felt a wave of certainty wash over me—if Geri was writing to me about it, the Crosspherat had made some disastrous decisions. I folded the note with deliberate care and tossed it into the trash.
"What happened?" Alex asked, his voice a mixture of hope and apprehension.
"The judges are meeting tomorrow," I said flatly. "We'll know in a few days whether we're headed for war."
I let out a heavy sigh. I already knew what their decision would be, and I didn't like it one bit.
(...)
Saturday morning passed in a quiet, almost uneasy silence. Alex kept to the kitchen, his focus consumed by cooking and baking, using the tasks as a way to distract himself. Meanwhile, I sharpened my daggers, the rhythmic scrape of the steel offering a brief moment of clarity. Once done, I cleaned my mask with careful precision. When Alex emerged from the kitchen, balancing a plate of freshly baked goods, his eyes immediately landed on the weapons and mask neatly lined up on the table. He didn't ask a single question. He didn't need to. He knew exactly what it meant. Without another word, he turned and retreated back into the kitchen.
I ran my finger along the cold edge of my favorite dagger, the steel biting against my skin. It didn't offer me comfort, but it didn't unsettle me either. Not far away lay my phone, Kaleidoscope open, an article reporting on a surprise attack. A group of savage vampires had slaughtered a squad of hunters. I picked up my dagger again, spinning it between my fingers. The Fifth was tightening its grip on the judges.
Rising from my seat, I walked through the hall. Alex glanced up from the kitchen, his eyes flickering with concern as he took in my movements. I grabbed my coat and slipped on my shoes.
"I have to go," I said as I headed for the door, but Alex's hand shot out, stopping me.
The nose of a wolf is indeed very annoying.
"Dangerous?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.
I paused, weighing my response.
"It's just something I have to do," I said quietly.
He didn't push any further, and I left without another word.
When I arrived at Alice's, I found him waiting. He led me into the kitchen and handed me a cup of soothing tea. Des emerged from another room, looking disheveled. I wasn't surprised to find him here; I'd expected it. His pajama bottoms hung loosely around his waist, and I couldn't help but notice the large, reddish scar on his left shoulder where his arm should have been. He yawned, then slouched into the third chair at the table. Alice poured him a coffee, and he gave a sleepy nod of thanks.
"Do you still have to go after the dealers?" My question came out more like a statement, but Des nodded.
"I'm ordered to hunt them all," he said with a sigh. "Pointless and tedious work."
"Who did you put in charge of the squad?" I asked.
A half-smile tugged at his lips, and I didn't need him to say more—I knew exactly who it was.
"Can you predict when and where they'll strike next?" I pressed, and the seer nodded.
Des grinned. "Planning to tip the scales?"
He always had a knack for figuring out my plans before I fully formed them.
"But you'd rather stay in the shadows," he added, and I nodded in agreement.
He took a sip of his coffee. "That'll come in handy. Ben's got no direct link to my squad," he said, explaining further, "Have you heard of the S-Class hunters?"
"So, you're one of them," I replied, and Alice confirmed with a brief nod.
I couldn't decide whether it was the Angel's scream or his psychic abilities that earned him such a title. Hunters of the Crescent Moon Squad were notorious for being the most ruthless, the most depraved of the hunters. A collection of criminals, psychopathic beasts, and scoundrels. The unwritten laws of their society kept Alice at the bottom of the hierarchy, despite Des being his partner. They wouldn't take orders from someone as decent as Alice.
"I'll take care of it," I said. "I'll give them the information they need."
"Divination is a tricky thing," Alice warned quickly. "It's exhausting. I'll need rest after the ritual. If we want to predict all the attacks before they happen..."
I knew he wasn't hesitating without reason. I'd asked him to do something difficult, but I trusted he would pull it off.
"You can leave the rest to me," I said. "Predict as much as you can; the rest the hunters can handle on their own."
"May I ask you something?" Alice asked.
I nodded.
"Why did you suddenly decide to get involved in all this?" he questioned.
"I'm not getting involved," I declared firmly.
He frowned, clearly puzzled, but didn't press further. Des smiled, his expression playful.
"Why are you helping the hunters?" Alice asked instead..
"The moment the Crosspherat breaks, war starts," I answered, my voice steady.
Des studied me for a long moment. "I didn't think you were interested in the war."
I sighed, knowing this conversation was inevitable. "There are things I want to protect."
"The wolf," Des said, his eyes darkening.
"And Coffee, Jo, my pub, and of course, my everyday life," I added.
Des's frown deepened, and I rolled my eyes in response.
"I still don't support the idea of you befriending monsters," he grumbled.
I grinned mockingly. "It's a pity you don't have a say in the matter."
"Pity, indeed," he said, finishing the last of his coffee.
(...)
I made my next detour to Luna's caravan. The lutist greeted me with a wide grin.
"Hello, Your Majesty—" he started, but I quickly clamped my hand over his mouth.
"Do you have a death wish, asshole?" I hissed through my teeth. He chuckled, wriggling free from my grip.
"Looking for our new bosslady?" he grinned, his cheerfulness somehow even more irritating than usual.
"Bosslady?" I echoed, frowning.
"Uh-huh," he nodded. "She paid the former boss a visit last night. I just finished digging."
He announced it as if it were the most mundane thing in the world.
"Why did she kill him?" I asked as we moved toward Luna's caravan.
He shrugged, completely unfazed. "Everyone has their limits. She'd had enough."
I didn't respond. Once we reached the caravan, the lutist sauntered off. I pushed down the handle and slipped inside quietly. Luna was at her workbench, grinding something in a mortar.
"Hi," I greeted her.
Luna looked up and smiled warmly. "Hi. What's up?"
"I just didn't want to go home yet," I admitted. "And while I'm here, I'd like to make a little deal."
Luna's eyes sparkled with interest. "What kind of deal?"
"I need magic," I began, leaning forward slightly. "I know mages usually use portal magic for travel. I need something like that. I've heard you can get orbs with those properties."
"Oh," her smile widened, a glint of excitement in her eyes. "You mean Persephone's pearls."
"Exactly," I confirmed with a nod.
"What do you need them for?" she asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.
I sighed deeply, pulling out a chair and sitting down at the table. A few moments later, Luna joined me.
"My friends..." I began, my voice quieter. "Alice and Des will fight if it comes to that. Alex and Coffee are scared."
"Well, fear is a natural reaction to a war about to break out," she remarked with a gentle smile.
"They're not really fighters," I admitted with another sigh. "I'd almost forgotten that."
"The scariest thing about you, Shay," she said with a chuckle, "is that you're not afraid of fighting. Danger can be very attractive."
I ignored the suggestive tone and met her gaze. "You're wrong. There is something that scares me."
Her smile faltered. "What is it?"
I hesitated for a moment, the weight of the truth pressing down on me. "It's not my own death that I fear," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's theirs. The thought of losing them... that's what keeps me awake at night."
"If chaos breaks out around us, we'll all be forced to fight," I continued, my tone steady. "I'm not saying they're weak or lack combat experience... it's just that war is different."
"So, you've decided to prevent the war from breaking out," Luna concluded, her gaze steady. I nodded.
"What's your plan?" she asked, leaning in slightly.
"The Fifth wants to pressure the Crosspherat, so I'll start by stopping that," I declared. "Then, I'll talk to the judges—likely with a few threats of a painful death. I'll push them to negotiate with the kings. If all goes well, the Fifth will likely retreat. If not, the kings will handle him."
Luna's expression shifted as the pieces clicked into place. Her eyes widened with disbelief.
"Are you planning to support the hunters?"
"I'm simply going to provide them with quick information and see how they handle it," I clarified. "I'll need the pearls in case things go south."
She nodded thoughtfully, then removed her necklace, handing it to me. The pendant was a small, glimmering purple crystal ball.
"This is all I can give you for now," she said. "They're complex to make, and I'll need more time if you want more."
"Is it okay to give me this so easily?" I asked, frowning slightly.
Luna didn't answer immediately. Instead, she slid onto my lap, her arms draping around my neck. She leaned in, brushing her lips against mine in a whisper of a kiss—so soft I almost doubted it happened.
"Don't tempt me," I murmured, my voice low, but she only giggled and kissed me again.
This time, her lips pressed confidently against mine, the touch igniting a spark that lingered between us.
(...)
That night, just after ten o'clock, I received my first message from Alice.
Alice in Monsterland: [Midnight, Hunter Association South Headquarters, forty vampires.]
I took a deep breath and dialed. Geri picked up almost instantly.
"Yes?" he answered.
"The vampires are attacking tonight," I informed him.
I heard the sharp intake of breath on the other end. Whether it was from surprise at the imminent attack or the fact that I had called, I couldn't tell.
"The location?" he asked quickly.
"The Human Affairs Headquarters," I replied. "Expect forty vampires."
He let out another low hiss.
"We don't have much time. They'll strike at midnight. Can you handle it?" I added.
He inhaled deeply before responding. "Yes."
Not that he had much choice. I hung up.
Moving with calm precision, I stepped to my closet, retrieved a box, and placed it on the bed. I pulled off my shirt and replaced it with my armor. The smooth, form-fitting material clung to me, moving seamlessly with every shift.
I fastened daggers to my belt, pulled the mask over my face, and slipped the pendant Luna had given me into my pocket. For a moment, I stared at Alistair's ring before turning it on my finger. Instantly, my form shimmered, turning translucent, then vanished entirely.
Time for some fun, I thought.
Geri surveyed his team, his gaze steady but sharp.
"Is everything ready?" he asked.
One of the hunters nodded. "We've evacuated the nearby residents, citing a gas leak."
"Good," Geri replied. "Get ready to fight!"
By the time I arrived at the building, the battle was in full swing. Chaos was the only word I had to describe the situation. The scene was a violent blur of movement and sound—hunters clashing with bloodthirsty vampires. Bodies lay scattered across the ground, the majority of them belonging to vampires, though a few hunters were among the fallen.
I saw someone fall on their knees and I acted immediately. My dagger found its mark, plunging into the throat of the snarling vampire looming over them. The hunter, startled by the unexpected aid, quickly regained composure and emptied half a magazine into the vampire's skull. As the lifeless body crumpled to the ground, the hunter sprang up and charged toward the next target.
I continued in this manner, providing silent assistance to those in danger. I didn't move closer or join the fray directly, ensuring the hunters could handle the rest. As the tide of battle turned in their favor, I decided it was time to step back and leave the aftermath in their capable hands.
Alex was waiting in the kitchen, naturally. I pulled off my mask and set it on the table. His expression teetered between frustration and concern, as if he was ready to accuse me of being reckless but knew better. I had planned everything meticulously before leaving. Resigned, he handed me a mug of cocoa.
"Did you fight?" he asked.
Though he didn't know exactly where I'd been or what I'd done, my attire made it easy to guess.
"No," I said, "I don't plan to unless it's necessary."
Drawing unnecessary attention was the last thing I wanted.
"I see," he replied, his tension easing slightly.
After a pause, he asked, "What's all this about?"
He must have read the article on Kaleidoscope and had a pretty good idea.
"A form of persuasion," I replied with a dry edge.
"Are you trying to stop the war?" he asked, incredulous.
"Something like that," I sighed.
It wasn't just about preventing the war; it was about safeguarding the peace in my quiet, everyday life. My phone buzzed, breaking the moment.
"What?"
"We won," Geri reported.
"Prima," I responded flatly.
"Thank you," he added.
"Stand by and wait for further instructions," I ordered.
"Will do," Geri replied before hanging up.
I sipped the cocoa, the warmth spreading through me, but it did little to shake the feeling of being watched. The sensation of otherworldly eyes prickled at the edges of my awareness, a subtle but persistent presence. I drained the mug and made my way back to my room, the feeling trailing me like a shadow.
Once inside, the room felt heavier, the air charged with an unseen energy. I closed the door behind me, the click echoing softly in the quiet. Then, as if pulled from the ether, Simon finally materialized. His form was pale and translucent, his gaze unwavering. Yet, he said nothing.
I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "If you're here to tell me that this isn't enough, you—"
Simon's voice, soft and cold as winter's breath, cut through the silence. "I can help you when the time comes."
I blinked, the offer catching me off guard.
"Me and all the vengeful ghosts. We can assist you."
For a moment, I was silent, processing the unexpected proposition. Then, a slow smile curved my lips. "I never thought I'd have a ghostly army on my side."
Simon's lips twitched in a faint smile.
"I'll hold you to that," I said. "Simon."