Waking up felt like the sweet kiss of death had whispered goodnight. Barely opening her eyes, Ari reached out, her hand brushing the cold, smooth wall as she sighed deeply. Her entire body was drenched in cold sweat, making every movement a struggle. The unbearable discomfort forced her to muster all her strength to push the clammy duvet off her body. Sheets, pillow, duvet, nightshirt, underwear—everything was soaked and cold.
Groaning, she struggled to sit up, but then a gentle morning breeze drifted through her room, bringing with it the delicate song of a small blue phoenix perched on the windowsill.
This rare avian, with its sky-blue feathers and a single golden plume extending from its forehead to its rump, was a mesmerising sight. Its magnificent eyelashes fluttered as it began to hop around and sing. Despite her grumpy mood, Ari couldn't help but smile at the little creature. Finally mustering the energy, she stretched her arms properly and stood up.
"Ugh…I'll have to ask Mia to change my bedding."
Ari's room, bathed in the soft light of dawn, was a cosy haven filled with the warm hues of polished wood and rich fabrics. Shelves lined with books and trinkets from her travels decorated the walls, and the faint scent of lavender lingered in the air. She walked over to the blue phoenix, bending down to see it up close. The bird was unbothered, pausing its dance and song to observe Arianna with curious, rapid head movements. It only flew away when she tried to pat its head with a finger. Sighing again, Ari undressed, standing completely naked as she dried herself with a towel left over from her last bath.
She stood by the open window, knowing there was no one to peep. The walls near her mansion were rarely patrolled, and even if they were, the tall trees in her garden provided ample cover. The garden, lush with greenery and vibrant flowers, seemed to whisper secrets in the morning breeze. Standing before a full-length mirror framed in ornate silver, Ari grabbed her well-developed breasts, lifting them to check for any missed scratches or bruises. As she felt her breasts, memories of the man who saved her resurfaced—his might, dexterity, speed, agility, earth magic, and the strong arm that had carried her. Feeling increasingly aroused, she abruptly stopped, shaking her head.
"No. No. No. No. No. No," she muttered, slapping her face to snap out of it.
From her wardrobe, she selected a cute dress that matched her dark-blue hair and a new pair of underwear. The wardrobe, carved from dark mahogany, stood tall against the wall, its doors adorned with intricate floral designs. Putting on her sandals, she sat in front of the dressing table with a smaller mirror, brushing her hair to tame the chaos on her head. She used another smaller brush to clean and coax her fluffy kitsune ears, and a large brush to comb out her dark-blue, fox-like tail. She could spend hours doing this and never tire of it.
As she brushed, the sun began to rise, casting a golden glow across her room. The morning light danced on the surfaces, bringing life to the room's warm colours and highlighting the intricate details of the furniture and decorations. Ari felt a sense of calm wash over her, the familiar routine helping to ground her after the turbulent events of the previous night.
Finally, Ari noticed her bag sitting on the nightstand. She picked it up and rummaged through its contents: her purse, beef jerky wrapped in cloth, sweets, a lollipop, and other small items that could come in handy someday. Satisfied that nothing was missing, she left the bag behind.
Stepping into the hallway, she was immediately aware of an argument between Astra and Fiora. The hallway itself was an impressive sight, richly furnished and lined with tall, arched windows that let in streams of morning light. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting ancient myths and legendary battles. Ornate sconces held flickering candles, adding a warm, golden glow to the space. The polished wooden floors reflected the light, giving the hall an ethereal quality.
Fiora's appearance was a blend of grace and authority, truly befitting a High Priestess. She wore a long, flowing crimson dress with intricate gold embroidery along the hems, the fabric shimmering as she moved. The dress had elegant slits along the sides and under the arms, revealing tantalising glimpses of her well-toned figure. A wide golden belt cinched her waist, its tassels of golden threads swaying gracefully with each step. Draped over her shoulders was a dark crimson cloak, embroidered with celestial patterns, that shielded her from unwanted gazes. Her head was adorned with an elaborate headpiece studded with precious stones, adding a divine aura to her presence. Fiora's elegant attire subtly accentuated her ample bosom and graceful figure, embodying both her divine role and her inherent nobility.
Astra was slumped over the table, clenching her teeth in frustration. Clad in her guard cuirass with a pair of iron gauntlets and boots, she exuded strength and resilience. Astra's muscular physique was a stark contrast to the more delicate and slender forms of her mother and sister. She was undeniably her father's daughter—Asurian, the renowned Captain of the City Guard, Fiora's husband, and the father of Astra, Ari, and Farah. Astra had inherited nearly everything from him: a sense of duty, a formidable physique, unmatched swordsmanship, and his fiery red hair. Asurian, known as The Crimson Devil, had left a powerful legacy, one that Astra embodied fully. But we shall delve into his story another time.
For now, Astra's tension filled the room as she struggled with the weight of her responsibilities and the recent events that had shaken their household.
"You know what they took!" Astra smashed the table with her gauntleted fist, the impact sending a strand of her crimson hair flying, startling Ari.
"Not this tone, dear." Fiora's gaze alone brought Astra back into submission.
"I... I'm sorry, Mom." Astra's voice softened, filled with shame. "I just don't get it… I can't push it further…"
"I don't know what it was or how they knew about it. Do you really think I'd risk Ari's life and refuse to tell you the truth?" Fiora's annoyance was palpable.
"I… I know it's not your fault, but Maria must have told you something. She was like a grandmother to us, the head priestess of Hirako Temple. You've known each other for years. Didn't she tell you anything?"
Ari, sensing the tension, joined the conversation. "She must have."
Fiora sighed, looking at her younger daughter. "There was something, back when I was pregnant with Farah. Maria mentioned something she got from a witch who was in town. I didn't pay much attention to it; I had more important things on my mind, as you can guess."
Ari walked over and sat next to her mother on the couch, holding her hand sympathetically.
"There was a saying that comes to mind now: 'If found and taken, a world conqueror will arise,' or something like this, whatever that means."
"A world conqueror?" Ari repeated, disbelief etched on her face.
Astra sighed in frustration, dropping her head onto the table and scratching her scalp in exasperation.
"Astra, calm down. You'll hurt yourself," Ari said, deeply worried about her sister.
Fiora rose gracefully, her expression a mix of concern and resignation. "Do what you can, but don't push yourself too hard. Maria's journal might hold some answers. Look through her notes and any hidden pockets in her clothes."
She paused, her gaze softening as she looked at her daughters. "I wish I could do more, but this is all I can offer right now. I'm sorry."
With a final, lingering glance, she turned and left the room, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the silent hall.
Ari walked to Astra and gently patted her head. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken concerns. The wooden beams overhead seemed to groan with the weight of their collective worries.
Out of the blue, Farah emerged from the kitchen holding two cups of steaming tea. His arrival was like a burst of sunlight through storm clouds. Noticing that their mother was missing, he still placed a teacup where she had been sitting. The delicate porcelain clinked softly against the polished oak table.
"Why do we even bother?" he yelled, but his eyes softened when he noticed Ari. "Hi sis, I hope you're doing well today."
"I'm better now, thanks. We should worry more about Astra," she answered, her smile like a warm balm.
"Captain will be fine, don't bother. You should take it easy. It would be better if you stayed home. We both know how the academy can be a pain in the neck, and it's not what you need right now." Before Ari could respond, he returned to the kitchen, the scent of freshly baked bread wafting through the doorway.
"Mia, stop it! We won't make any more for this old lady." Farah's voice carried a mix of respect and playful rebellion, his love for their mother evident despite his teasing.
"Please don't say things like that out loud," Mia replied, her voice tinged with stress as she worried about the consequences of Farah's behaviour.
Astra finally stood up and patted Ari's shoulder, the metal of her gauntlet cool against her sister's skin. "Rest today. I'll do as Mother said. If I find anything, I'll tell you." She kissed Ari's forehead gently. Just as she was about to leave, Farah came back and, with a mischievous grin, asked, "Will you kiss me too?" Astra responded by pinching his trapezius, eliciting a yelp of pain from him and a round of apologies.
Mia walked out to check on the commotion, drying her hands on a cloth. She saw only Astra's back as she exited, her silhouette framed by the light streaming through the open door. Ari stood and walked to Farah, hugging him tightly and kissing his forehead.
"Is it better now?" she asked softly.
"I just wanted to make her laugh. She didn't have to be this brutal," Farah replied, not truly mad at Astra. He knew her too well for that.
Mia noticed something about Ari's appearance. "Miss, your hair has grown past your shoulders. Would you like me to trim it a little?" she asked with deep compassion and care.
Ari's dark blue hair, cascading in soft waves, framed her delicate face, contrasting with her fair complexion. Her large, expressive eyes, the same shade of blue as her hair, hinted at a depth of emotion she rarely allowed to surface. Her kitsune ears, covered in a fine layer of dark blue fur, twitched slightly as she considered Mia's question. Ari's slender figure, accentuated by the simple yet elegant dress she wore, belied the inner strength she possessed. Her fox-like tail, equally dark blue and well-groomed, swayed gently behind her, a subconscious reflection of her emotions. Despite the trials she had endured, there was an ethereal beauty about her, a quiet resilience that shone through even in moments of vulnerability.
"Maybe later, Mia, but there is something I would like to ask you."
"I'm all ears."
"I had cold sweats last night from everything that happened. My pallet is…"
"It's not a problem. I'll change your pallet, duvet, pillows, and every other piece of clothing too."
Ari smiled and thanked her. Farah had been staring at Ari's hair the whole time. "You really look great with this medium-length hair. It suits you well."
"I wonder when you'll grow out of that bowl cut," Ari laughed, ruffling his hair.
"It's very popular right now if you missed it," Farah said with a smile and confidence. "Girls are loving it."
"Aren't you too young to be interested in girls?" Ari teased.
Farah laughed. "Ha ha ha, and who's saying that? You're just two years older than me annnnnn… oh, fuck, I'm sorry, Ari. I'm so, so, so sorry." Realising his mistake, his smile vanished, and he walked over to his sister, grabbing her hand in compassion.
Ari forced a laugh, trying to brush off the comment. "It's okay, really," she said, looking out the window to hide her true feelings. Deep down, the words stung, and as she kept her gaze fixed outside, a single, unnoticed tear rolled down her cheek.
"I'll be going… before I mess something up again." Farah took his bag and was about to leave.
"I haven't packed your food yet," Mia called after him, trying to catch him on his way out.
"I'm not hungry anymore," he said, his voice trailing off as he left. A loud scream echoed through the whole first tier as he walked away, the mistake he made haunting him all the way to the academy.
When Astra left the Rosviel mansion, she made her way to the second tier, her mind preoccupied with the day's tasks. On her way, she saw Fiora in conversation with Bishop Elara Windrake. Elara, the mother of Phoenix Windrake, Ari's childhood friend, was a middle-aged woman with short blonde hair and a slender figure. Her delicate doll-like features were framed by a long, dark blue robe and bishop headgear. The long sleeves of her robe concealed her delicate hands, lending her an air of mystery. As she spoke with Fiora, she noticed Astra passing by. Their eyes met briefly, and Elara's expression softened, but Astra quickly turned her head toward the gate and hastened her steps.
As Astra continued toward the barracks, she passed the bustling plaza with its iconic fountain, where a cat and fox playfully sprayed water from their mouths. The nearby tavern, "The Gilded Griffin," boasted the best ale and sausage in the whole Theocracy, its enticing aromas wafting through the air. The market square was a hive of activity, with traders hawking their wares and people from all walks of life going about their business. She encountered nuns in their simple habits, scholars engrossed in deep discussions, traders negotiating deals, mercenaries looking for their next job, and other guards patrolling the area. Among the diverse crowd were members of other races like nekomata and likaons, adding to the vibrant tapestry of the city.
One figure stood out in particular: a colossal mercenary clad in heavy armour, his imposing presence causing people to step aside. His sheer size and the weight of his armour made him a living fortress. Another notable figure was a street witch with the appearance of a young and beautiful lady, but the air around her was tinged with an untrustworthy aura that made Astra wary. The last person to catch Astra's attention was a boy in a hood, walking purposefully down the street. As they passed shoulder to shoulder, a sudden freezing sensation shot through Astra's body, causing her to shiver. She looked back at the boy, who continued on his way, seemingly unbothered, but there was an unmistakable aura of power surrounding him that sent a chill down her spine.
The streets of Kar-Ah were alive with movement and colour, each person and place telling a story. Astra's journey through the city was a testament to its rich diversity and the hidden depths that lay beneath its surface.
Finally reaching the stone barracks, Astra spotted Frost and Ash sitting on a bench nearby. The structure was a formidable building, its grey stone walls standing resolute and austere against the vibrant activity of the city. The barracks, with its heavy oak doors and narrow windows, exuded an air of military discipline and readiness.
They saluted their captain as she approached. "Good morning, Captain," Frost said, exhaling a puff of cigarette smoke. His rugged face was partially hidden by a cloud of smoke, and his sharp blue eyes seemed to scrutinise the world with a perpetual wariness.
Ash stood up, his tall, lean figure moving with a soldier's precision, and walked over to shake hands with Astra. "I heard everything from Frost about what happened yesterday. We can get witnesses ready on your order."
"We have all day for it. Remind her not to leave the city without my permission. Now, I want you to bring the body of the head priestess for examination." Astra's voice was firm, her attitude fully determined to solve this mystery.
Frost looked into her eyes and saw her resolve. He sighed and crossed one leg over the other, making a circle with the smoke from his cigarette and gazing up at the heavens, lost in thought.
At that moment, Bang, a middle-aged man with grey hair, walked out of the barracks with Hector, a huge lion-like youkai. Bang's face bore a permanent look of serene contentment, and his eyes twinkled with a mixture of wisdom and unshakeable positivity. His presence radiated a calm, almost meditative energy, reminiscent of a gentle stream flowing through a peaceful meadow. His voice, soothing and steady, had a way of making everyone around him feel at ease, as if all the troubles in the world were just happy little accidents waiting to be turned into something beautiful.
"You want to strip the old lady?" Bang asked with a timid smile on his face, his demeanour ever carefree and positive.
Hector, the huge lion-like youkai, said nothing, simply passing by and sitting next to Frost, who immediately offered him a cigarette. Hector declined with a polite shake of his head.
"I talked with the High Priestess. She mentioned something from the past that may have a huge impact on the whole investigation behind the attack," Astra said, her irritation at Bang's lightheartedness barely contained.
"Mom said that? I wonder what it was," Bang mused aloud, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.
Bang, the second in command, was a seasoned guard and soldier who had spent most of his life under Asurian's command. He treated Astra with the utmost respect as Asurian's heir but ignored the usual taboos about status and titles. For Bang, everyone was equal, and he never wavered from this view.
"The body of the priestess should still be in the funeral parlour. Do you want to tag her here, or just go there and see what you have to?" Bang asked, his smile fading as he focused on the task at hand.
"I only care about what we can find in her clothes. Notes, journal, papers, stuff like that," Astra replied, her voice steady.
Frost took a long drag from his cigarette. "When I took the surviving priestess out of the basement, I laid her in a room in the temple's dormitory. It happened to be the head priestess's room. I know this because there was a journal hidden under the pillow with her name on it."
Astra turned to Frost, her eyes wide with shock. "What was written in it?"
Frost blew out another smoke ring. "I didn't read it, but I left it on the nightstand. If no one's touched it, it should still be there."
The barracks courtyard buzzed with activity, soldiers preparing for their duties, weapons clinking, and the sound of training drills echoing off the stone walls. The morning sun cast long shadows across the cobblestones, and a cool breeze carried the scent of pine from the nearby forest, mixing with the tang of metal and the earthy aroma of tobacco smoke.
Astra clapped her hands decisively. "Bang, let's go see the body. Frost, I need you to return to the temple and fetch the journal."
Frost, unmotivated to move, barely managed to rise from the bench he was sharing with Hector. For Frost, an ideal day would involve smoking cigarettes and lying on the grass outside Kar-Ah, watching clouds drift by. However, duty called. Hector and Ash returned to their usual duties as city guards, while Bang and Astra made their way to the funeral parlour. Frost reluctantly set off back to the temple.
The temple, a devastated religious property, stood with its stone walls painted with unrecognisable symbols. The front doors were shattered, the remnants of a violent attack. In the middle of the main hall, the statue of Hirako remained untouched, a lone sentinel amid the chaos. Everything else was barely recognizable. Benches, shelves, beds, wardrobes, chests, and chairs lay in splinters. Only a day had passed since the attack, but already items were missing, likely stolen by street thieves or beggars scavenging the ruins.
Frost made his way to the room where he had left the surviving priestess. It didn't stand out from the other rooms, save for the fact that it had once held the precious journal. The nightstand, where he had last seen the journal, was now empty. Panic rising, he searched the room frantically, flipping the nightstand, tearing apart the bed, pillows, and duvet, and even looking behind the wardrobe and inside the chest. Despite his efforts, the journal was gone. The room, now turned upside down, was in even worse disarray than before.
Time passed, but the diary remained elusive. Suspecting it had been taken or stolen, Frost resigned himself to report back to Astra, dreading the conversation to come. He left the ruined temple, his mind racing with thoughts of what the journal might have contained and who could have taken it.
As Bang and Astra walked towards the funeral parlour, they maintained a contemplative silence, letting the sights and sounds of Kar-Ah fill the gap between them. The city, vibrant and alive, was a testament to its inhabitants' resilience and creativity. In the second tier, most buildings were constructed from stone, bricks, and wood, giving the area a rustic yet sturdy appearance. The cobblestone streets, though uneven and hard on boots, added to the charm of the place.
Temples with towering spires, barracks with their imposing structures, and other civil service buildings built primarily from stone contrasted with the more modest wooden taverns and entertainment hubs that dotted the landscape. The roads closer to the third tier were unpaved, making them a challenge to navigate, but the sight of children playing and merchants peddling their wares brought a sense of normalcy and liveliness to the area.
Finally reaching the funeral parlour, Astra and Bang stepped inside, immediately enveloped by a sombre atmosphere. The parlour was dimly lit, with heavy drapes shielding the interior from the harsh daylight. The air was thick with the scent of incense, mingling with the faint odour of flowers placed around in an attempt to mask the inevitable smell of death.
They were greeted by a young nekomata woman, her feline ears twitching nervously. She wore a long brown dress with a crisp white apron, white gloves that reached her elbows, and a mask that concealed much of her face. Her tail, peeking out from behind her dress, swayed anxiously. The presence of such formidable figures as Astra and Bang had clearly unsettled her, and she struggled to find her voice.
"We're here to examine the body of Maria, the head priestess of Hirako Temple," Astra stated firmly, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.
The girl, visibly flustered and disorganised, attempted to gather her wits. She began to question their purpose more precisely, looking around frantically for her supervisor and trying to recall any information about the deceased head priestess. Bang, noticing her distress, offered a reassuring smile.
"Can you fetch the one in charge here? We'll wait," he said kindly, before settling himself on a nearby bench close to the window. The sunlight streaming through cast a warm glow on his features, momentarily softening the lines of worry etched into his face.
Astra joined him, her gaze fixed on the young assistant as she scurried from one room to another in search of help. The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken thoughts and concerns.
"Poor soul," Bang whispered to Astra, his voice tinged with empathy. He had always been the more compassionate of the two, his heart going out to those caught in the crossfire of their duties.
Astra, however, remained silent. Her patience was wearing thin, her leg bobbing restlessly as she awaited the arrival of someone more competent to assist them. Her mind raced with thoughts of the investigation, the urgency of their task pressing down on her shoulders like a physical weight. Every moment spent waiting felt like a moment wasted, and the memory of Maria's lifeless body only fueled her determination to find answers.
The funeral parlour, with its dark wood furnishings and solemn decor, was a stark reminder of the inevitability of death. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting serene landscapes, meant to offer comfort to the grieving.
As Bang and Astra waited in silence, an elderly nekomata woman in a white toga with a matching apron and gloves walked by the front door. Her hair was a soft grey, and her tail moved gracefully behind her. She noticed Astra and Bang immediately, her keen eyes missing nothing.
"Captain, Vice Captain, how can this poor woman help you?" she asked, her voice calm and steady.
"We've come here to examine the body of Maria," Astra began.
"The head priestess from yesterday. Yes, I knew her personally," the elderly nekomata replied, a hint of sadness in her eyes.
The young nekomata assistant walked up to them, tears starting to pour down her cheeks as she felt overwhelmed and compromised. The elderly woman shook her head gently, seeing the girl's distress.
"My, my," she murmured, disapproving of her employee's state.
Astra and Bang followed the elderly nekomata through a dimly lit corridor lined with heavy wooden doors. The air was cool, and the faint scent of incense hung in the air, mingling with the earthy smell of stone. They entered a room where several bodies lay ready for burial, each in an open coffin.
The supervisor led them to one particular coffin, and upon opening it, they saw Maria lying peacefully in her robe, her eyes closed and hands folded over her chest. Astra reached out and touched Maria's hands gently.
"Oh, Granny," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.
Bang stepped closer to the supervisor. "Did you check her belongings before you put her in the casket?" he asked.
"Of course we did. We had to change her clothes; they were dirty with blood and torn by a sword," the elderly nekomata said confidently. She paused, holding her chin thoughtfully. "But I don't remember finding anything that could be of use to you."
"We are looking for papers or notes that she might have stored in her pockets," Astra explained.
The elderly nekomata turned to the assistant. "Helen, didn't we find anything like that?"
Helen walked in, her hands folded nervously. She answered hesitantly, "No. There were no such things. She had a piece of cloth, but there wasn't anything engraved in it."
Astra pressed on, her investigative instincts kicking in. "Did you search carefully? She might have had secret pockets in her robe that you could have missed."
"I checked. There wasn't anything," Helen replied, now on the verge of tears from Astra's relentless questioning.
"Leave her be," Bang whispered to Astra, sensing Helen's mounting anxiety.
Sighing, Astra agreed. They both thanked the staff for their time and apologised for interrupting their work before leaving the funeral parlour.
The door closed softly behind them, and in the distance, they saw Frost walking towards them, a cigarette already lit between his lips. Meeting him halfway, Astra stretched out her hand expectantly.
"Give me the diary," she demanded.
"I didn't find it," Frost replied simply, exhaling a plume of smoke.
Astra, shocked, looked at Bang, who remained unsurprised. "How didn't you find it? You said it was there."
"Key word: was. I turned the room upside down searching for it. It's gone," Frost answered, unbothered.
The three of them stood there in the middle of the street, the gravity of the situation sinking in as they realised the diary, and perhaps crucial evidence, had vanished.
Astra felt like the whole world had collapsed onto her shoulders. Grinding her teeth, she scratched her scarlet, fluffy ears with her iron gauntlets. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind: her mother's disappointment, failing her sister in pursuing the thugs who attacked her, and her father's legacy as the greatest city guard and Theocracy's warrior. She was a whirlwind of emotions, teetering on the edge of bursting into tears like a child who had lost a chess match and rolled on the ground and cried for its mama. But the heavy arm of Bang on her shoulder brought her back to her senses. Without a tear escaping her eyes, she looked at the old man. He simply smiled.
"Well then, it looks like the priestess you saved—the witness, I mean—is our only hope for now."
Astra's eyes drifted away, focusing on the cobblestone street beneath her boots. The city's main square buzzed around them, filled with the noise of merchants hawking their wares, children playing in the streets, and the distant hum of a blacksmith's hammer striking metal. She inhaled deeply, the familiar scents of baked bread and fresh herbs mixing with the acrid smell of smoke from Frost's cigarette.
Frost exhaled another plume of smoke. "Yeah, she's all we've got." His questioning eyes looked at his captain, who was still on the verge of admitting defeat. He had never seen this side of her; after all, she was a woman who tried to lock her heart in armour and the heir of Asurian, to whom no one could be called equal. His own features were sharp and angular, his short sky-blue hair slicked back, making his piercing blue eyes stand out even more. "Did you question your sister about it?"
Astra shook her head, her long, wavy crimson hair cascading around her shoulders. "Not yet. I will when the time is right. I don't want to overwhelm her and bring back those memories too quickly." Her voice was steady, but there was a tremor hidden beneath the surface, one only those closest to her could detect.
Bang nodded, his aged face framed by a greying beard that contrasted with his still-muscular build. His eyes, though kind, held the wisdom and weariness of countless battles. "Indeed, that's the best you can do for your sister. Let her process it on her own."
Astra was lost in thought for a moment, but then her sharp eye returned, and her motivation shone as brightly as before. "Frost, go find Doyle. Tell him to set up a hearing for the afternoon."
Frost inhaled his cigarette one last time, then threw it onto the paved road and crushed it with his iron boot. Sighing, he said, "I hate that guy. There's something about him I don't trust."
Doyle had a long and difficult history, one that only after Astra and Bang saved him, he could tell that he experienced peace. Hearing her subordinate speak ill of someone she cared for like a brother made Astra grind her teeth, her ears standing up and the hairs on her tail ruffling all at once. Again, Bang's heavy hand on her shoulder brought her back to her senses, but she said nothing.
"You might not agree with me," Frost continued, his sharp eyes rivalling those of Astra, "but there's something wrong about his aura." He turned and walked toward the barracks, leaving Bang and Astra alone.
"He'll do something we'll all regret, I know it," Frost said, a few steps away from them. These were his last words before disappearing into the crowd, his silhouette blending with the bustling life of the city around them.
As Frost vanished, Astra allowed herself a brief moment to glance at the vibrant marketplace. Stalls overflowed with colourful fruits and vegetables, vibrant fabrics fluttered in the wind, and the aroma of various street foods wafted through the air. She envied the normalcy of the civilians' lives, even as she knew she could never be one of them.
Bang's presence beside her was a comforting anchor. He had been a friend to her father and now to her, a steady rock in the turbulent sea of her life. His calm demeanour and reassuring smile made her believe that they could navigate through this storm. She couldn't afford to break down, not now. The weight of her father's legacy, her mother's expectations, and her sister's trauma was immense, but she would bear it. She had to. For her family, for the city, and for herself.
Astra took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Let's go," she said to Bang, her voice strong. They turned together, leaving the bustling square behind as they headed towards the barracks, ready to face whatever came next.
At Rosviel's mansion, Ari and Mia enjoyed warm green tea in the cosy living room, their conversation punctuated by bouts of laughter. The afternoon sun bathed the room in a soft, golden light, casting long shadows that danced on the wooden floor. Despite the pleasant company and the serene atmosphere, Ari felt a restlessness she couldn't shake.
The mansion, an elegant structure perched on a hill, offered various distractions. Ari could lose herself in the library's vast collection of books or wander the bustling city streets. Yet, something within her urged her outside. Excusing herself, she descended the staircase, its polished bannister smooth under her fingers, and headed toward the garden.
The shortest path to the garden was through the basement, a dimly lit passage with stone walls that exuded a cool, earthy scent. Ari moved quickly, the quiet echo of her footsteps the only sound. Emerging into the garden, she was greeted by the vibrant colours and sweet fragrances of blooming flowers. She took a deep breath, the fresh air filling her lungs, and allowed herself a moment of calm.
Ari meandered along the garden paths, the gravel crunching softly underfoot. She bent to sniff the roses, their petals soft and delicate, and trimmed a few stems with the small shears she carried. Finally, she settled on a wooden bench, its surface warm from the sun. Tilting her head back, she gazed up at the sky, watching the clouds drift lazily by.
As she sat, memories of the previous day's horrors surfaced. She replayed the events in her mind, the fear and chaos vivid and raw. Ari knew that Astra would soon come to question her about what she had witnessed. The thought of reliving those moments again was daunting, but necessary. She needed to recount everything accurately, not only to help Astra but also to fortify her own resolve.
Determined, Ari focused on the peaceful scene before her. The garden, with its vibrant blooms and gentle rustling leaves, became a sanctuary where she could gather her strength. She reminded herself why it was crucial to face these memories head-on: to prevent such horrors from repeating and to honour those affected by them.
With each breath, she felt her courage grow, solidifying her determination to support Astra and contribute to their shared mission. The sun continued its slow descent, casting a warm glow over the garden, as Ari prepared herself for the challenges ahead.
"You failed." A slender male figure emerged from a swirling dark cloud, his appearance sudden and unsettling. He wore a dark, slim suit, festooned with an array of knives around his waist, and a mysterious white mask bearing an enigmatic smile concealed his face.
"I gave you every piece of information you could need. I told you about everyone involved, I outlined what needed to be done, and yet you still failed."
The young man sitting at the edge of the rooftop didn't respond. Instead, he picked up small pebbles and threw them aimlessly onto the street below, watching as the people beneath him moved about like ants. A mighty wind rose, blowing back his hood and revealing his scarred face and dark hair. His expression remained blank as he looked toward the distant first tier of the city, far beyond his current reach.
The masked figure approached him, the movement almost leisurely. "You? I wouldn't have guessed."
The boy growled, standing up and facing the masked man. "Just tell me where Ash is, and I will bring you this cursed ring, demon."
The demon laughed, a chilling sound that echoed off the nearby buildings. "Of course you will, after I kill this little girl so she stops distracting you."
"Girl? Who?" The boy shook his head in frustration. "Do what you want, it doesn't matter to me at all. Now tell me where the ring is!"
"On its way to Eagle Castle."
Upon hearing this, the young man jumped off the roof, plummeting many metres before disappearing into thin air. The demon turned his gaze toward Rosviel Mansion, then looked up at the sky and clouds, his voice filled with a twisted admiration.
"Truly… just as You have foreseen."
With that, he vanished into the same black fog from which he had emerged, leaving only a lingering sense of dread in his wake.