The shop was quiet, save for the faint rustling of parchment and the occasional creak of the wooden beams above. Roseiral stepped into the main room where Ryker was hunched over a map, his brow furrowed in concentration.
She approached the counter, pulling the envelope from her satchel. "The Church of Cardiel asked me to give this to you."
Ryker glanced up, his sharp eyes darting to the sealed envelope in her hand. "Oh, thank you, Roseiral. Just put it on my desk."
Roseiral did as he asked, placing the envelope on the cluttered wooden surface nearby. She turned to leave but hesitated, her steps faltering. The weight of unanswered questions clawed at her chest.
She turned back to Ryker, her voice soft but firm. "Ryker… are there any updates about my village?"
Ryker paused, the map in his hands stilling. His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes shifted—guarded, distant.
"That's confidential," he said flatly, returning his attention to the map. "Or you'd need to pay a big price in exchange for the information. Both of which are impossible."
Roseiral's shoulders sagged slightly. "I just want to know if they're okay. If there's any news—"
"I'm not trying to give you hope or take it away," Ryker interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. "Just… keep looking straight ahead, Roseiral. Focus on what you can control right now."
Her heart sank a little, the ache of uncertainty pressing against her ribs. She looked down, murmuring, "Okay…"
Ryker glanced at her, then straightened with a soft sigh. "Anyway, since we're already on the topic, is it okay if I ask you a few questions about your village?"
Roseiral blinked, tilting her head. "Questions? Why?"
"Call it curiosity," Ryker said, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. "You know me, always wanting to understand things better."
She crossed her arms, her voice tinged with suspicion. "Only if you tell me what's happening with my village."
Ryker immediately shook his head, his tone teasing. "Come on, Roseiral. Just answer some questions for free this time—for this old man, will you?"
She narrowed her eyes, but his lighthearted tone chipped away at her resolve. Finally, she sighed. "Fine, okay."
Ryker leaned forward, his gaze curious and intent. "What was your village like before the attack? Its name, the people, the way it looked?"
Roseiral opened her mouth to answer, but no words came. Her mind felt foggy, as though someone had drawn a curtain over her memories. She tried to picture the familiar streets, the faces of neighbors, even the name of the place she had once called home. But everything was blank.
"I… I don't remember," she admitted quietly, frustration lacing her voice.
Ryker's expression didn't change as he nodded. "Alright. What about the day of the attack? What do you recall? Anything strange leading up to it?"
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus. The faintest glimpses flickered—shadows stretching across the fields, an eerie silence in the air. But the harder she tried, the more her mind resisted, as though the memories had been deliberately locked away.
"Nothing," she said, her voice tinged with defeat. "It's all… blank."
Ryker leaned back, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the counter. "Interesting. And the village's name? Surely you remember that."
Roseiral shook her head slowly, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "No. I don't. How could I forget something so important?"
Ryker watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Don't beat yourself up over it. Memory's a tricky thing, especially when it's tied to trauma. Sometimes, it locks things away to protect you."
"Protect me from what?" she snapped, her frustration boiling over. "Not knowing doesn't help anyone—especially not my village."
Ryker raised his hands in a calming gesture. "I get it, trust me. But forcing it won't work. The answers will come when they're ready."
Roseiral exhaled sharply, turning away. She felt as though she were grasping at smoke, her memories slipping further away the harder she tried to hold onto them.
"Thanks for nothing," she muttered under her breath.
Ryker chuckled softly. "Hey, I didn't promise you answers. Just questions. You're the one who agreed."
She shot him a glare over her shoulder before heading to her room, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her once more.
After Roseiral left, the shop sank into its usual stillness. Ryker stood at the counter, his eyes lingering on the door. A faint, contemplative frown pulled at his lips as he reached for the envelope Roseiral had delivered.
"Liliac's been meeting with her a lot lately," he muttered, turning the envelope over in his hands. "That's unusual."
He tapped the sealed letter against the edge of the counter, his mind spinning. "With all the missions he's juggling—important ones, at that—you'd think he wouldn't have time for anyone outside of his duties. But Roseiral? He makes the time. Every time. Why?"
Ryker's gaze darkened as he considered the implications. "She's a much more important piece in this puzzle than I initially thought. Maybe even the center of it."
The envelope felt heavier in his grip, its presence now steeped in suspicion. He stared at the intricate seal for a long moment before letting out a sharp exhale.
"And then there's the church," he said, a hint of irritation creeping into his tone. "They handed her this letter to give to me. Why go through the trouble? They could've just used a heart scroll like any normal communication. But no."
He set the envelope down on the counter, his fingers drumming against the wood. "They wanted her to know it exists. To know it has something to do with her village. That's deliberate."
Ryker tilted his head back, rubbing his temples as he thought it through. "The church isn't careless. They're playing their cards exactly how they want. But to what end?" His gaze sharpened. "And what is her village planning? There's something deeper going on—something tied to all this."
He leaned forward, gripping the edge of the counter, his jaw tightening. "And Liliac… he knows something. I'm sure of it. How did he figure out there was something off with Roseiral in the first place? Corruption that even the most seasoned Fragmenters might miss—and yet he saved her like it was nothing."
Ryker's hand curled into a fist, his knuckles whitening. "Liliac doesn't get involved unless it's critical. So what makes Roseiral critical? What makes her so important that he would break his routine for her?"
The frustration boiled beneath the surface, his mind clawing at questions that refused to yield answers. With a sharp exhale, he unclenched his hand and let it fall to his side.
"Hmph." He let out a bitter chuckle. "Higher-stage Fragmenters. Always at the top for a reason. Their intellect, their foresight, their ability to pull strings none of us can even see. No wonder they're untouchable."
Ryker picked up the envelope again, running his thumb over the seal as though trying to glean its secrets through touch alone. "How many people are involved in this? How many pieces are moving?"
The weight of it all pressed against him, but he shoved the thought aside. "This is annoying," he muttered under his breath. "But I guess I'll have to wait and see."
He set the envelope down one last time, carefully this time, as though handling something far more dangerous than paper.
His gaze lingered on it for a moment longer before he turned back to the map on his desk. For now, he'd wait. But he couldn't shake the feeling that the letter, and Roseiral herself, were keys to something much bigger—and far more dangerous.
Roseiral walked into her modest home, the soft click of the door closing behind her breaking the silence of the evening. She paused for a moment, taking in the familiar surroundings—the worn furniture, the small fire crackling in the hearth. It felt comforting, but something gnawed at the edges of her thoughts.
Godless was sitting in his usual spot, a small bundle of joy curled up on the rug, staring at her with wide eyes. His little hands reached out toward her, his expression bright and curious.
For a moment, Roseiral just stood there, looking at Godless, the weight of the conversation with Ryker still lingering in her mind.
She took a slow breath before smiling softly at him. "We both came from the same village, huh?" she murmured, sitting down beside him. Her voice trembled slightly, but she didn't try to hide it. "I wonder if you remember what happened. I don't… I can't. It's like there's a hole in my mind, like it's been ripped away, and the anger—" Her voice faltered, but she pressed on. "It makes me so angry, Godless. I can't remember."
She swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears that threatened to spill at bay. "Do you know what happened, Godless?"
For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, Godless let out a strange, happy giggle, his round face lighting up as he wiggled on the rug. It was as if he didn't understand the gravity of her words. His laughter bubbled up like a melody, innocent and carefree.
Roseiral stared at him, momentarily struck by the contrast between her turmoil and his pure joy. She could feel her frustration boiling over, but it wasn't directed at him. It was at the memory—or the lack of it.
"Of course you wouldn't know," she whispered, her voice softening. "You're just a baby. You couldn't possibly understand."
She shook her head, trying to shake off the cloud of anger and confusion. "I'm talking crazy, aren't I?" she said with a little laugh, her tone forced.
Without thinking, she scooped Godless up into her arms, cradling him close to her chest as she made exaggerated faces at him. "Booga booga! Who's a funny little baby?" she said, her voice shifting to the playful sing-song tone she used when she wanted to cheer him up.
Godless giggled again, his little hands flailing in excitement. Roseiral couldn't help but smile, her heart lifting in spite of the storm swirling inside her. She made a silly face, sticking out her tongue and crossing her eyes, then blowing a raspberry on his belly.
"Look at me, being a fool," she said, her voice light now, the anger ebbing away with each silly gesture. "You've got me acting all kinds of crazy."
Godless cooed happily in her arms, and Roseiral's laughter bubbled up, unrestrained. The absurdity of the moment made her feel like she could forget everything else—the mystery of her village, the confusion in her mind, the puzzle she was tangled in. For now, it was just her and Godless, lost in this simple moment of joy.
She kissed the top of his head and hugged him tight. "You really do make everything better, don't you?" she whispered.
Godless's giggles were the only reply she needed.
–
The morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Roseiral stirred in bed, stretching out her limbs before blinking her eyes open to greet the new day. The air felt cool against her skin as she yawned, and she slid out of bed, making her way to the window. She needed some fresh air to shake off the remnants of sleep. The city outside was already bustling, with the distant hum of life filling the air.
Stepping outside, she inhaled deeply, the breeze ruffling her hair as it cooled her face. For a moment, she was at peace—until her eyes caught sight of a figure standing in the shadow of the nearby building. Giovane.
He was leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed, staring at her with that same unreadable expression on his face.
Before Roseiral could even gather her thoughts, he straightened up and spoke in his usual matter-of-fact tone. "Get ready. Ryker assigned me to help hone your physical prowess."
Roseiral narrowed her eyes, feeling a wave of irritation wash over her. She had just woken up, and now she was faced with another one of Ryker's 'assignments.' "How?" she asked, her voice tinged with annoyance as she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes.
Giovane smirked, his gaze sharp as ever. "How else? You're going to be fighting me."
Her brows furrowed at the sudden challenge. Roseiral frowned. "But you're just a—"
He cut her off before she could finish. "A Fragmenter, not a kid. The potion can give you every physical prowess and reaction in the world, and mental abilities in the world, but if you can't use them, then what's the point?"
Roseiral stared at him, momentarily caught off guard. She had never seen him so serious about something like this. He was right, of course. Having the power was useless if she couldn't harness it in real situations.
She sighed, the weight of the training ahead already pressing down on her. "Fine. Where do we start?"
"Come on," Giovane said with a flick of his head. "We'll be fighting at my house."
Roseiral hesitated for a moment, looking back towards the headquarters, knowing Godless was still asleep inside. She didn't want to leave him alone for too long. "Hold on," she said quickly, already reaching for her communicator. "Let me call the caretaker to come earlier and take care of Godless."
Giovane nodded. "We'll be waiting. Don't take too long."
With a few quick messages sent to the caretaker, Roseiral turned back to Giovane, who was already walking toward the narrow alley leading to his house. As she followed him, she couldn't help but wonder how much of this was going to push her limits.
She hadn't seen Giovane in action before, but she wasn't about to underestimate him. If she was going to be fighting him, it was going to take everything she had.