Passing through the bustling marketplace, Ari navigated her way toward the grand plaza before the entrance to the first tier. The air was filled with the vibrant sounds of vendors calling out their wares, the laughter of children, and the soft murmur of countless conversations. Ari moved with an air of grace, her book clutched securely under her arm. She paused briefly to admire the ornate fountain depicting a cat and a fox, a revered symbol of harmony in her culture. With a silent prayer, she continued her journey.
The guards stationed under the grand gate recognized her immediately. Ari was a familiar figure to them, her daily excursions out of the first tier known to most. They greeted her respectfully, allowing her passage without hesitation. As she entered, the sight of the Great Cathedral always gave her pause. Its towering spires and intricate carvings were a testament to the faith and determination of her people. Ari was not yet a high priestess, but as the heir to the title, she felt a deep connection to this sacred place.
In the plaza, she spotted her mother, Fiora, standing with Elara Windrake. Elara, a cardinal and close confidante of Fiora, was also the mother of Phoenix. Ari's heart lightened at the sight of her mother, and she approached with a smile. Clinging tightly to her book, she joined them, listening to their conversation.
"Elara, Hel clearly stated her interests lie solely with the empire. Engaging with the Tundra conflict is not in her best interests… well, it's not in anyone's, really," Elara said, her voice calm yet assertive, glancing at Fiora from under her hood.
Fiora, deep in thought, responded, "What intrigues me more is why the empress seeks our involvement. The empire isn't lacking in strength or allies…" She touched her chin thoughtfully as a gust of wind blew strands of hair across her face.
Elara nodded, her hood slipping off to reveal short blonde hair and skin like polished marble. "We need to discuss this with the council. There are too many uncertainties."
Fiora gently brushed a fallen leaf from the ancient oak off Ari's head and mused, "The Empress mentioned a trip to Hel. Whatever decision is made, she promised to inform me promptly."
As the conversation drew to a close, Elara bid them farewell, and Ari watched her walk away, noticing the fragility in her pale, veined hand. Elara, sensing Ari's gaze, quickly concealed her hand under her sleeve and disappeared into her home. Fiora sighed deeply, a weight of worry evident in her expression.
"I wonder how this will all end," she murmured to herself.
As they walked toward their home, Ari broke the silence. "What were you discussing?"
Fiora, pausing at their door, patted Ari's head. "Nothing that should trouble you, dear."
"But why? You've appointed me as your heir. Politics and diplomacy should always concern me," Ari insisted, her eyes searching her mother's.
Fiora's eyes filled with unspoken sorrow, and she whispered, "I doubt it. When you go, I doubt you will ever…"
Before she could finish, the door to the Rosviel mansion swung open. A tall maid with long black hair and round glasses stood there, her brown eyes filled with concern. Bowing deeply, she greeted them, "Welcome home, Ms. Fiora, Miss Ari."
Fiora walked in, but Ari lingered outside, tears welling in her eyes. The book she had been clutching fell to the ground. The maid, sensing the tension, remained silent. She picked up the book and glanced at the title, finding it unremarkable. Handing it back to Ari, she offered a small, comforting smile.
Ari brushed away her tears with a finger and entered the mansion, the weight of her mother's words still heavy on her heart.
"Dinner is ready," the maid announced before disappearing into the kitchen, her voice blending into the background hum of the household.
The dining table was nearly set, adorned with polished silverware and flickering candles casting a warm glow. The aroma of roasted herbs and freshly baked bread filled the air, mingling with the scent of beeswax from the candles. Fiora ascended the grand staircase, each step a testament to her grace. She sought to transform from the high priestess into a mother and woman, shedding her official garb and the weight of her responsibilities.
Before Ari could make her way to her room, the front door swung open once again. The late afternoon sun streamed in, silhouetting the figure of Astra, the captain of the city guard and Ari's older sister. Her uniform, crisp and impeccable, contrasted with the soft, worried look in her eyes.
Without uttering a word, Ari sprinted to her room, her footsteps echoing through the corridor lined with family portraits and heirlooms. Astra's keen eyes immediately sensed something amiss. The absence of both their mother and brother added to her unease. She headed toward the kitchen, where the maid was making the final preparations for dinner.
"Did something happen?" Astra inquired, her voice filled with concern.
Without looking up, the maid replied, "I don't know, but something is off. Maybe they had an argument."
Astra leaned against the wall, sighing. "Ari never argues with Fiora."
Determined to find out, Astra walked to Ari's room and pressed her ear to the door. Hearing nothing, she knocked and entered.
Ari lay on her bed, clutching her book as if it were a lifeline.
"Did something happen?" Astra asked with deep concern about her sister's wellbeing.
The room was dimly lit, the heavy drapes drawn to keep out the afternoon sun. A small statue of Hirako stood on a shelf, a comforting presence always watching over her. Without lifting her gaze, she responded, "Nothing happened. Why are you asking?"
Astra moved closer, the floorboards creaking under her weight, and sat on the edge of the bed. "Did you argue with Mom?"
Ari's composure shattered. She set her book aside and, unable to hold back any longer, burst into tears. She flung herself into Astra's arms, her sobs echoing in the room.
Astra, alarmed, embraced her sister, softly stroking her back to soothe her. The maid, Emma, peeked in, concerned by the noise. Astra met her gaze and shook her head. "Everything is okay, Emma. Please close the door and leave us alone."
Emma nodded and quietly closed the door. Clinging to her sister, Ari's sobs gradually subsided. The room was filled with the scent of lavender from the sachets tucked into the linen drawers, meant to calm but now mingled with the scent of Ari's tears.
Sensing she was ready to talk, Astra asked gently, "Now tell me, what happened?"
Through her sobs, Ari whispered, "I'm dead."
Astra felt a chill run down her spine. "Why would you say something like that?"
"Mom said I won't return."
Understanding dawned on Astra. The truth had surfaced, shattering the fragile façade they'd maintained. "There's still time, Ari. Don't worry. We'll figure something out."
Ari, eyes filled with tears, pushed her sister away. "Don't lie to me! You can't fix this!"
Astra firmly embraced her again, stroking her hair and kitsune ears. The room seemed to close in on them, the air thick with unspoken fears. Ari cried and trembled in her arms, but their brother, Farah, entered the room without knocking. Seeing the sisters in distress, he sighed deeply.
"This is not the time. Could you please leave us alone?" Astra asked calmly.
Farah's expression was grim. "Mom feels the same. I don't remember the last time I saw her cry. You should go to her, Ari. I tried to help, but she wouldn't let me."
Ari's resolve strengthened. She stood up, leaving Astra behind, and walked upstairs to find her mother. Even in distress, Fiora maintained her grace and elegance. Ari peeped into her mother's room and saw her sitting in a luxurious chair, still dressed in her High Priestess's attire, staring out the window.
Ari's heart urged her to go inside, to hug her mother and cry with her, but a voice in the back of her mind held her back. Tears welled up again as she shook her head. Unable to face her mother, she fled downstairs, grabbed the book she had carried all day, and ran out of the house. The book, a tome on elemental magic, seemed heavier now, its weight a reminder of the burdens she couldn't escape. Truly, she was an unbelievable girl.
Then there was a knock on Fiora's door. Emma stood there, holding a dish on a silver plate. The hallway outside Fiora's room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting shadows that danced along the walls.
"Ms. Fiora, you didn't come down, so I thought I'd bring dinner to you," Emma said, her voice gentle and considerate.
Fiora smiled, a strained effort to hide the marks of her distress and recent tears. Her eyes, still red and puffy, betrayed her emotions despite her best efforts. "Thank you, Emma. That's very thoughtful of you."
She accepted the plate and sat down at her small writing desk, the room around her silent and filled with the soft rustling of papers and the faint scent of lavender. She ate her dinner alone, the solitude heavy and oppressive, each bite feeling like a chore. Emma sighed deeply as she left the room, her footsteps echoing softly down the corridor. As she descended the stairs, she encountered Farah.
"Miss Ari won't join us?" Emma asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Farah shrugged. "The last time I saw her, she was heading upstairs. I don't know where she is now."
"Let's leave them alone," Astra ordered from the dining room, where she was enjoying her meal with an air of practised calm. The room was warm and inviting, the golden glow of the chandelier reflecting off polished silverware and fine china.
"I felt something was wrong, so I won't bother Ms. Fiora with this today," Emma said, taking a seat next to Farah. She passed him a sample of the food, then some meat, and poured a drink for him.
"Bother her with what?" Astra asked, her curiosity piqued as she took another bite, savouring the rich flavours.
Emma sighed, a soft, weary sound. "My mom took in one of our distant relatives. She's still a child but really wants to work and help the family. I told her I would ask Ms. Fiora if she could work here."
Farah looked at Emma with a questioning eye. "So, we'll have a little you as a maid?" His imagination ran wild at the thought of a miniature Emma cleaning and helping around the house, a small smile playing on his lips.
Astra, on the other hand, saw something deeper in Emma's eyes but chose not to press further. There was enough unpleasantness for one day. She took another bite of meat, savouring the flavours and momentary distraction.
After the meal, Emma cleaned up diligently, the clinking of dishes and the sound of splashing water creating a soothing backdrop. Astra and Farah enjoyed tea in the living room, the soft glow of the fireplace casting a cosy ambiance. Soon, Fiora walked downstairs, her presence instantly felt.
Without a word, she joined her children, her face a mask of calm despite the turmoil within. Her movements were graceful yet heavy with the day's burden.
"Come, sit with us," Astra proposed, but Fiora shook her head, her voice steady despite her inner turmoil.
"Truly, what an ill day it is today. The burial of Hirako's priestess is set for this evening. I have to go and prepare," Fiora said, her tone resigned.
"I told my guards. They are probably setting up now," Astra said, her voice filled with confidence and authority.
"Is Bang leading?" Fiora asked, and Astra nodded to confirm.
"Then I don't have to worry," Fiora said, turning and walking to the mansion library, her steps deliberate and measured. She searched for a ceremony book, finding it amidst the well-organised shelves. The library was a sanctuary of knowledge, filled with the comforting scent of old parchment and leather-bound volumes. She took the book and carried it with her. In the front corridor, Emma was already standing with Fiora's cloak, ready to assist.
"Please remind Ari to come over. She probably doesn't want to see me anymore," Fiora said, her face grim, unable to hide her sadness.
"We will," Farah replied. Fiora left the mansion, the heavy wooden doors closing behind her with a soft thud, the sound echoing through the silent hallway.
Astra sighed deeply, looking at her brother with a fierce gaze. "Then go find her and tell her."
Farah obeyed, quickly leaving the house. "Pray for a better day tomorrow," Astra said to Emma, who held her hands together in silent prayer but didn't respond aloud. The evening air was cool and crisp, filled with the distant sounds of the bustling city.
The evening ceremony was set in the devastated Hirako temple. As Astra prepared to leave, she met Farah in the corridor. He looked tired and sad, a rare sight for him. His usually bright demeanour was dimmed by the day's events.
"I didn't find her, and I've had enough," he said, his voice tinged with frustration and defeat.
He tried to pass Astra, but she firmly held his arm. "What kind of man are you that you couldn't even find your sister? Go back there now!" Her voice was stern, filled with the authority she carried as the eldest.
Farah broke free from her grip and put his hands together in mock prayer. "Thank you, goddess Hirako, for not making me her subordinate." His words, dripping with sarcasm, ignited Astra's anger like a spark to gunpowder, but he quickly ran to his room upstairs, avoiding her wrath.
"Your sister may be in danger, alone in some dark alley, and you simply get tired and return with your tail between your legs… literally," Astra muttered, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. The frustration and worry for her sister weighed heavily on her.
Astra left the mansion and headed to Hirako's temple, scanning the streets and questioning various people and guards about Ari. No one knew anything. On her way, she prayed to find a fortune teller she remembered, usually stationed on the main road, but found her absent. Disappointed, she continued to the temple and arrived in the middle of the ceremony led by her mother. The temple, once ruined and looted, was now hastily prepared for this solemn occasion. Broken doors were replaced, damaged benches removed, and Hirako's statue was cleaned, standing as a solemn guardian over the proceedings. The scent of incense filled the air, creating a serene atmosphere amidst the sorrow.
Astra spotted Bang leaning against the wall, his presence a quiet reassurance. His tall, imposing figure was a familiar sight, and his calm demeanour offered some comfort.
"Any chance you found her?" she asked, her voice low and filled with hope.
"Good to see you, Astra. Your mother told me she's missing. No, I haven't found her yet," Bang replied, shaking his head. His expression was serious, his eyes scanning the room as if expecting Ari to appear at any moment.
Astra sighed deeply, the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders. The solemnity of the ceremony and the pressing worry for her sister combined to create a heavy burden she carried silently. She joined the congregation, her thoughts with Ari, hoping that wherever she was, she was safe.
As Arianna fled from her home, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cobblestone streets. Tears streamed down her face, and she clutched a book tightly against her chest, as if it were a talisman against her swirling emotions. The city was quiet, the usual hustle and bustle of the day giving way to a calmer, almost oppressive stillness. Arianna's feet pounded the cobblestones with rhythmic urgency, each step a release of pent-up frustration and sorrow.
The guards stationed around the city seemed oblivious to her distress, their indifferent gazes barely acknowledging her as she ran past. Despite her noble lineage, Arianna had always found solace in physical exertion, and running was one of her favourite ways to clear her mind. As she pushed herself forward, her thoughts were consumed with maintaining her balance and the steady cadence of her breath, providing a fleeting escape from her emotional turmoil.
Her escape was abruptly halted when she encountered a witch, the local fortune teller. Her presence was unmistakable, her dark robes billowing slightly in the breeze as she raised her arms to signal Arianna. "Miss Rosviel, can we talk?" a woman called out, her voice cutting through the quiet of the late afternoon.
Arianna, her breath coming in ragged gasps, slowed to a halt and wiped her tear-streaked face with a trembling hand. She approached Gabriella's counter, a small, unassuming structure on the side of the road. "You know me?" Arianna asked, her voice a mixture of surprise and curiosity.
"I'm Gabriella, a fortune teller—or a witch, as most people around here call me," Gabriella explained, her tone warm and inviting.
"Nice to meet you, Gabriella. I'm Arianna, but most people call me Ari," Arianna responded, her voice gaining steadiness as she made the introduction.
Gabriella, noting the distress etched on Arianna's face, invited her into a nearby room. The space was dimly lit by the glow of a few flickering candles, casting soft, dancing shadows on the stone walls. The room was modest in size but rich in character. Wooden shelves lined the walls, cluttered with jars of dried herbs, mystical trinkets, and various arcane artefacts. A carved wooden wardrobe stood in one corner, its intricate patterns hinting at ancient stories. The air was infused with a soothing blend of floral scents and an elusive, earthy aroma that suggested hidden mysteries.
In the centre of the room, a crystal ball rested on a carved wooden table surrounded by two chairs. Gabriella guided Arianna to one of the chairs and took her own seat beside the crystal ball. The ambient light from the candles created an almost hypnotic atmosphere, perfect for the task at hand.
"Give me your right hand," Gabriella instructed gently.
Arianna extended her hand, its marble-like pallor contrasting with Gabriella's tanned, weathered fingers. Gabriella's touch was delicate as she traced the contours of Arianna's hand, noting the well-maintained nails and the slenderness of her wrist.
"Maybe there is something that you want to ask me?" Gabriella's gaze was steady, her eyes reflecting genuine concern.
"Will I meet him?" Arianna asked, her voice tinged with a mix of hope and desperation.
Gabriella took Arianna's hand in one of her own and placed the other hand over the crystal ball. With her eyes closed, she murmured softly, "Hmmm… Oh, I see… It's him?... No wonder I can't." After a moment of concentration, she opened her eyes and spoke, "I had a case similar to this not long ago; it's unprecedented. I don't know who you want to meet, but there's a chance I might have contacted him." Gabriella stood and placed her magical cap on a chair beneath a covered window, preparing for further consultation.
"You know his name?" Gabriella asked.
"No," Arianna replied, clutching the book more tightly. "I met him in the Hirako temple during the attack. He was in a thick black cloak. I didn't see his face."
Gabriella's brow furrowed slightly as she absorbed the information. The lack of crucial details made it difficult to narrow down the search. However, when Arianna added, "He was also using earth magic, but without runes—just some hand gestures," Gabriella's interest visibly sharpened.
"This changes things," Gabriella noted, her gaze flicking to the book Arianna had brought. "I rented this from the academy library," Arianna explained. "Maybe there's information about his magic that could help me find him."
Gabriella now faced a difficult decision. She had to weigh whether revealing what she knew would be beneficial or harmful. "I'm sorry," Gabriella said with a hint of sorrow in her voice. "I can't read your future clearly and can't help you find this man." She returned to her seat, her disappointment evident.
Arianna's face fell. She stood up, sadness deepening her expression. "No. No. Don't feel sorry for me. It's not your fault. Maybe it's me; I'm having a bad day, and it's disturbing your…"
"Please, sit. Let me help you in some other way," Gabriella urged.
Arianna shook her head, her resolve firm. "Thank you, but I'm in a hurry. I need to go."
With that, Arianna left the room, leaving Gabriella alone in the dimly lit space. Gabriella sat in silence, her hands clasped together in a contemplative pose. "Telling her would only disturb the balance of her future," she murmured to herself.
Suddenly, a dark, manly voice emerged from the shadows, chilling and unexpected. The candles extinguished all at once, plunging the room into near darkness. A dark mist began to seep into the room, coalescing around a slim man dressed in a dark suit and a white mask that bore a perpetual, unsettling grin.
He glided closer to Gabriella and took the seat Arianna had vacated. "So, what did you see?" he asked, his voice smooth and dispassionate.
"Not much, because of him," Gabriella admitted, her voice tinged with unease. "Their paths will cross someday, but why and when remains unknown."
"Forget about the unknown," the man said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Tell me what you could see."
As Arianna fled from Gabriella's dimly lit room, the evening sky was already darkening, the sun sinking below the horizon. The cold grip of fear and regret weighed heavily on her as she hurried through the now shadowed streets, realizing she was on the verge of missing the burial of her friends and her grandmother figure. The thought of not being able to say goodbye felt like a thunderous shock to her heart. Yet, the idea of facing her mother, who was leading the ceremony, was even more unbearable.
Rushing towards Hirako Temple, Arianna decided to make a quick detour to visit her friend Marika, who lived nearby. Her heart raced with urgency as she knocked on Marika's door. When Marika invited her inside, Arianna, unable to stay and chat, explained her situation in brief. All she needed was a cloak to disguise herself. Marika, understanding the gravity of Arianna's situation, handed her a short brown cloak that reached her knees. Arianna promised to return it undamaged and quickly said her farewells.
Wrapped in the cloak and with the book still clutched tightly in her hand, Arianna hurried towards the temple. The wind whipped around her, causing her to pull the hood down even further to conceal her face. As she arrived at the temple, the ceremony was nearing its end. Standing in the doorway, surrounded by the somber crowd, she caught sight of Astra and Bang leaning against a wall. Bang's gaze suddenly met hers, and a pang of fear struck her. Desperately, she focused her attention on the statue of Hirako and tugged her hood down even further.
Arianna's curiosity got the better of her, and she took a quick glance at Bang. To her surprise, he was smiling, clearly focused on Fiora, who was leading the ceremony. As the ceremony was concluding, Arianna attempted to slip away, maneuvering backward through the crowd. She accidentally bumped into someone and was immediately grabbed by the shoulder. Panic surged through her as she felt the firm grip.
Looking up, she saw a young guard with brown hair and a broad smile. In a whisper, he said, "Everyone is looking for you."
Arianna exhaled a sigh of relief as he released his grip. "Then go and tell them," she said, annoyance tinged in her voice. She began to walk towards the main street, heading back to the First Tier.
"Well, we can talk if you want. I guess you wouldn't run out of your home without a reason," the guard said, following her.
Arianna turned to face him, pulling her hood back. "And you? What do you know?"
"Well, I'm Doyle, if you know me, and I've lived through some tough times," he replied.
Ari pulled the book from her cloak and crossed her arms defensively. Her eyes met Doyle's, filled with a mixture of resignation and distrust. "Maybe we can talk, but I'm not sure you'll be of much help."
Doyle chuckled, the sound warm and familiar despite the chill of the evening. He casually draped an arm over her shoulder and gestured toward a dimly lit alleyway. "If we head this way, we'll reach a quiet place called Secret Grove. It's a hidden spot where we can sit down and discuss things without anyone overhearing."
Ari arched an eyebrow. "Never heard of it. Lead the way."
She gently pushed his arm off her shoulder and walked ahead with purpose. Doyle followed her, his steps light and unhurried as he guided her through the labyrinthine alleys of the city. After a short walk, they arrived at a concealed gate, camouflaged by creeping ivy and rusted by years of neglect. Doyle wrestled with the heavy, ironbound gate, giving it a few vigorous pushes until it creaked open with a reluctant groan.
As Ari stepped inside, the serene beauty of the grove unfolded before her. The setting sun cast a golden glow over the tranquil haven, highlighting the lush mown grass that stretched out like a verdant carpet. Fruit-bearing bushes, their branches heavy with ripe berries, bordered the grove, while clusters of flowers peeked through with delicate, vibrant hues. The air was fragrant with the mingling scents of earth and blossoms, a stark contrast to the grime of the surrounding city.
Doyle led her to a weathered wooden bench nestled under a canopy of ancient trees. The bench, though worn, offered a comfortable respite amidst the beauty of the grove. Doyle settled himself on one end, sprawling with an air of casual confidence, his posture taking up more than its share of space. His demeanor, while relaxed, exuded an undercurrent of watchfulness.
Ari hesitated for a moment, taking in the serene surroundings before sitting beside him. The bench creaked slightly under their weight. Doyle's arm, draped possessively over her shoulders, was warm but somewhat uncomfortable. Ari shifted, pulling his arm off her shoulders, and clutched her book and cloak tightly to herself, feeling the weight of both the book and her predicament.
She glanced at him sideways, her expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "So how can you help me?"
Doyle's gaze was steady, his features illuminated by the soft glow of twilight. "It depends on your problem and what you're willing to offer in return."
Ari's scrutiny deepened. Doyle's face was flushed slightly from the effort of opening the gate, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened on his brow. "So, you don't do charity."
Doyle's laugh was low and self-assured. "This is my first and last free lesson: don't do anything for free."
Ari sighed deeply, the weight of her situation pressing heavily upon her. She stared down at her book, the leather cover cool and reassuring in her hands. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm being sold by my mother to a warlord. As a bride, I'm moving to the Likaon Coastline to marry the current leader."
(Likaon Coastline - a country located in Tundra region, it's separated by a Theocracy of Youkai by a Silverwind Strait.)
Doyle's expression shifted, a flicker of genuine concern replacing his earlier nonchalance. He leaned in slightly, his gaze intent on Ari as if weighing the gravity of her words.
"Well, it's some heavy stuff, but I too was sold off to marry someone. It's not quite the same as your situation, though," Ari began, her voice heavy with a shared burden. "After the attack on Hirako's temple, something magical happened to me, like a fresh breath of air blew through my soul. I started believing I would live an adventurous life and meet my promised one. I forgot the truth—though it never forgot me. I had a plan in my head; just thinking about it gave me butterflies…"
She trailed off, lost in the memory, when suddenly, "WHAT THE—?!" Ari jerked back as if struck, her hand darting to her cheek where something soft and damp had touched. Doyle, his face flushed and eyes wild, was unnervingly close—too close. He was breathing heavily, sweat beading on his brow. As Ari tried to rise, Doyle's hand shot out, gripping her shoulder with a force that made her gasp. She dropped her book, instinctively trying to pull away, but his grip was unyielding.
In a desperate struggle, they tumbled to the ground, a chaotic tangle of limbs. Ari kicked and squirmed, finally managing to slip free and scramble back. But Doyle was relentless; he grabbed her ankle, yanking her back toward him. With a surge of adrenaline, she spun and kicked at his hand, momentarily breaking his grip. Doyle, undeterred, lunged at her, pinning her down with his weight. Terror seized Ari's heart; his hands clamped around her wrists, and his face was inches from hers, eyes dark with a dangerous intent.
Panic surged through Ari as she felt utterly trapped. His breath was hot against her skin as he leaned in closer. Just as she felt the darkness closing in, Doyle's head snapped back, he crashed into a tree, stunned but not out.
Ari sprang to her feet, a red magic circle glowing fiercely in her hand. Doyle charged at her, but she was ready this time. A gust of wind blasted him, but he only staggered. The magic circle shifted to blue, and with a swift motion, she sent a torrent of water crashing into Doyle, drenching him and knocking him down. She sprinted towards the gate, but it wouldn't budge—locked tight. Desperation clawed at her as she turned back to face Doyle, who was already rising, water dripping from his armour and hair. His eyes blazed with rage.
Tears streamed down her face as she turned to face Doyle.Her hands and legs shook uncontrollably. "Please! Please, save me again!" she prayed silently, facing the man she should never have trusted.
Doyle charged at her, roaring in fury. He swung his fist, narrowly missing her as she ducked and rolled away. Ari raised her hand, conjuring another red magic circle around her wrist, but Doyle was faster than before. He lunged, slamming his shoulder into her. Ari hit the ground hard, her vision spinning. Before she could react, Doyle was on her, pinning her down once more. His hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her scream.
Struggling beneath him, Ari met his gaze with a fierce determination. Not crying anymore, the trembling ceased. She focused her energy with both hands, and the red circle in her hand pulsed with power. She brought both hands together, a searing burst of flame erupted, engulfing him. His armour smouldered, his hair turned to ash, and he was hurled backward, rolling on the ground to extinguish the flames.
Ari scrambled to her feet, her chest heaving. "I will not meet you again as a victim!" she thought, stealing herself. for the next assault.
As Doyle staggered to his feet, his face was a horrifying mask—one eye blackened, his skin charred and blistered, hair reduced to blackened stubble, and his nose disfigured. With a roar of pure rage, he drew his sword, the blade glinting menacingly. Ari quickly conjured another rune, the air around her crackling with energy, ready for the final confrontation.
"Drop that weapon! What's going on here?" A commanding voice cut through the tension. A large guard stood at the entrance, his eyes wide with shock at the scene before him. Ari was stunned—help had come, even if she was prepared to fight to the death.
But Doyle, consumed by rage and despair, made no move to surrender. Instead, he raised his sword and plunged it into his own chest. Blood spurted out, staining the ground and splattering Ari's cloak. She watched, horrified, as Doyle crumpled to the ground, his eyes glazing over. The guard rushed forward, but it was too late.
Ari stood, trembling, the weight of what had just happened crashing over her. She turned and fled, tears streaming down her face, barely aware of her surroundings as she stumbled through the dark alley, she made her way to the main street, desperate to reach the first tier and the safety of home. Her flight was noticed by Bang, walking with Frost.
"Wasn't that Ari just now?" Bang said, squinting into the darkness.
Frost shrugged, distracted. "Who? The girl up ahead?"
A woman emerged from the alley, clutching Bang's arm, crying, "A guard is lying dead back there!"
Bang's face hardened. "Frost, go after that girl—make sure she's safe. I'll handle this."
Frost reluctantly tossed his lollipop aside and jogged after Ari, keeping a cautious distance. Something told him to let her be, but he stayed close enough to intervene if necessary. He shadowed her all the way to the first tier, satisfied only when she disappeared safely inside.
Meanwhile, Bang was led to the grove, through the broken iron gate, and down the rough-hewn steps. His heart sank as he saw the body. Even burned and battered, he recognized Doyle—the boy he and Astra had once saved. No tears fell, but a deep sadness settled over him. The woman who had guided him had vanished, leaving him alone with the dead.
What a terrible day it was.