— Kiriya, protect the people! —ordered Zhì Yuè— I'll handle the rest!
— Understood.
Kiriya stood up and positioned himself in front of the people huddled in the farthest corner of the room. He took a fighting stance.
Zhì Yuè suspected it, not from a sixth sense or anything like that. He wasn't a cautious person who lived by anticipating or preventing every event in his life. Generally, he let the wind push the sails of his ship rather than forcing it to follow a course; that was the best way, the currents of the sea were always challenging, daring, and untamable, that's how he liked to live.
The distrust came from something else, something strange he had heard in the village while walking with Kiriya. His awareness was alert, fully focused on the words. Information in those days was worth far more than gold.
Parallel to the war, "Natsugama," a clandestine association of dark mages, which had remained seemingly calm for the past year, had been experimenting on people.
It was information Zhì Yuè overheard one night while infiltrated in the Mage Council. Natsugama was implanting tears into the bodies of villagers. A tear would be introduced through the ear canal. Once inside the body, it would incubate slowly, waiting to be activated by the creator of this atrocity. The Council referred to it as "Alteration." When activated, it turned the human into a horrible orc over two and a half meters tall, deforming their bones and skin, altering their state and making them impulsive and violent.
With that information, it was inevitable for Zhì Yuè to be on high alert when he heard a man say: "My head hurts."
— Kiriya, don't let him hurt anyone!
— Understood!
The weapon was heavy, consisting of a giant metal sphere with long, pointed spikes. The orc dragged the artifact violently; due to its size, its movement was slow, screeching, and unsettling.
"Where did he get that? It's a magical tool. Is there someone from Natsugama infiltrated among the people?" Zhì Yuè wondered. He was frustrated with himself. Even though he had raised his guard, his effort was mediocre for not recognizing his enemy.
The orc frantically swung the weapon in the air. It destroyed some buildings. People ran back and forth. Luckily, there were no serious injuries, just a few civilians with scrapes. Not far off, the cries of babies could be heard. With cleverness, Zhì Yuè managed to guide the orc to the center of the pedestrian walkway, where corrosion and dark stains covered the pavement; the monstrous being had created craters in more than one spot.
"What should I do? Even though it's an orc now, it's still a person. I can't hurt him, but I also can't let him hurt others."
— Hey, you! —shouted Zhì Yuè— Yes, you, the disgusting green-skinned one! Don't you know you could kill someone acting like that? No, my mistake! Don't you know your attitude ruins the etiquette codes?
— And then you ask me where I learn "those" things —articulated Kiriya.
Zhì Yuè turned surprised toward him.
— Huh? What are you doing here? What about the people? —he asked.
— Inside. —Kiriya jumped through the bottom frame of the bakery entrance. He was holding a kitchen knife as if it were a dart—. Trust me. That won't get in.
"What did the Kaer family do to him? That look... It's like he's changed personalities," Zhì Yuè thought. It was relieving that he wasn't scared, so he wouldn't have to protect him. But it was worrying the kind of philosophy he seemed to fluctuate in. An important conversation was pending between them.
— He's human —clarified Zhì Yuè—. We can't hurt him.
Kiriya looked at him with a blank expression. Was Zhì Yuè joking with him? Or maybe he didn't know what an orc was? No. Zhì Yuè didn't know the difference between humans and orcs. "Yes, that's it," Kiriya concluded, and looked at him with disappointment.
Zhì Yuè read his thoughts. Without much talking, he summarized:
— I'll explain later. Drop the knife. Focus on keeping the environment safe. If you see anyone suspicious among the people, do me a favor, slap them and subdue them. Don't do more. It seems there's someone "bad" hiding and committing misdeeds.
— Understood —nodded Kiriya.
The young Yamagata took his role seriously. He put on a serious expression and scanned the surroundings carefully. Immediately, he noticed a malfunction. Without hesitation, he disappeared from the scene to go after it.
Zhì Yuè assessed the situation carefully.
"There must be a way to return him to normal, right?" —he wondered doubtfully. The day he overheard his superiors' conversation, he was in too much of a hurry to escape, passed by the place by pure coincidence, it wasn't part of his mission to spy on them; also, before his leader realized his absence in Grumelia, it was better to disappear, so his espionage lasted only two or three minutes of information—. The Mage Council must be examining the matter. If that's the case, then…"
Zhì Yuè had many magical artifacts. His master had warned him. "Don't use your magic unless you really need it!" he yelled at him in the past, throwing a beer barrel. Because of that, he always carried a garlin with him, an object from the Caelifer family that served as luggage. It hung from his right wrist like a simple, worn black bracelet. But it was an artifact that molded to its owner's affinity, so its appearance changed according to the owner's evolution.
Inside the garlin, there were some talismans and spells, again, purely from the Caelifer family; they were inscribed on a black sheet with chimera blood. He took one of them called Midda, which altered the size of beings or objects.
The orc violently approached Zhì Yuè and hurled the weapon in his direction. Zhì Yuè dodged it. The artifact created a large cavity in the steel. Half the metal had embedded itself there. The impact caused the ground to shake and triggered more fear in the villagers.
Zhì Yuè was capable of becoming as light as a feather if he wanted. Therefore, it wasn't difficult for him to escape the attack. With just one jump, the audacious young man landed on his feet on the metal sphere. His fall was so precise that none of the spikes caused him harm.
— That was definitely personal, you want to kill me? —asked Zhì Yuè, offended. All the orc emitted were growls and gasps, but no words—. Well, my turn!
The young man with red hair ran quickly around the orc. He directed the Midda spell toward him, attaching it to his back. With one hand, he made a gesture; he closed three of his fingers and left the index and middle fingers of his right hand extended.
— Haf'alah! —he shouted— Ten centimeters!
The orc's massive and robust figure began to shrink. His screams and growls grew fainter. The people, who had previously been screaming in terror and panic, began to calm down, watching the change unfold. Those who had been crawling on the ground stood up, and along with another group of people, from those hiding between walls and structures, approached where the orc lay in his new size.
— Looks like a rat… A ugly, fat rat, …and hairless —said an adult, shaking his hat against his calf, shaking off the dust.
— Sir… —spoke Zhì Yuè—, please try not to scream like you're being dismembered. In this town, many are indeed exaggerated.
That was true. Many of the "victims" who screamed hadn't even been close to being one.
— The people of Starlim are known for having a lower level of magic, we'd say we're in last place in the whole country. You should know that. If all we can do is scream for our lives, then we'll scream with everything we've got until someone helps us. It's smart to know your limits, don't you think?
— Maybe you're right —Zhì Yuè agreed—. But doesn't it seem honorable to die without screaming like a pig?
— I have a point, and you, boy, another. You shouldn't argue with an adult. Thanks for the help. You'd better get this out of here —suggested, looking at the orc.
An old man with a sour expression and desperate lines on his face approached and growled harshly: — Get rid of it? He has to kill it! Boy! Kill it right now! What if it grows back to its size? It will murder us!
The old man picked up a broken brick from the rubble and approached arrogantly.
— Don't even think about getting closer, or I'll have to stop you —Zhì Yuè said, stepping in front of him.
— Can't you see the gravity of this? —the old man accused him.
— Leave the boy alone, Cebridick —stopped a robust man, who appeared to be in his fifties. He sounded offended and condescending. He looked at Zhì Yuè dismissively—. He knows what he's doing, doesn't he? —he said slowly, reserving his words of kindness—. The last thing we need is someone named Caelifer feeling insulted.
— Caelifer? —repeated Cebridick.
— You just have to look at his disgusting hair; a little darker, and it would be as thick as all the blood carried by the Caelifers. I heard their threads are made of that. They say it's a curse, one different from what happens to those born every generation. Centuries ago, death appeared to them, and anyone with that surname, whether by blood or not, even through marriage, has their hair change to apple color.
— Isn't the war also because of the Caelifers? —asked another.
— Yes, yes! It is! —confirmed a farmer— I heard it from some travelers in the tavern!
Zhì Yuè's gaze dropped to the ground. His shoulders tensed and rose. His body reacted to a nauseating shame that made him attempt to hide his face clumsily. He felt dizzy. He made no move. His saliva pooled in his mouth, and he was ready for them to throw stones at him or whatever else they had done before. It didn't matter. They could take some of their disdain and hatred out on him. He wouldn't move a muscle until they felt satisfied with their justice.
— Cebridick! Be grateful to those who help us —corrected a man, thoroughly angry, hitting him on the head. The man was the baker who had attended to Zhì Yuè moments before—. Don't talk like that about the young man, he's just a kid; you should act like an adult. And stop drinking! Look at how you are.
— Cahandick! —grumbled Cebridick, even angrier and more helpless—. Who do you think you are to hit me?
— How dare you! —the baker scolded him sharply—, bullying a minor! Go on, go! Where's your son? Celidick! Celidick! Come hold your father, he can barely stand! —The man handed Cebridick to his son, a twenty-one-year-old who apologized to Zhì Yuè, and, despite his father's shouts, took him away. The people began to murmur among themselves. Cahandick looked at everyone with severity. His eyes shot arrows of warning. With a paternal tone, he patted Zhì Yuè on the shoulder and spoke—: Young Master Zhi, the people of Starlim thank you for your work. You are a cheerful boy, don't be ashamed by nonsense. Comments and rumors, or just "rumors," whatever you call them, are like the wind and smells; they can be useful, but sometimes toxic. You'll know that being smart and wise depends on you, being happy, above all. Wherever you go, you'll find difficulties, much worse than these, and something tells me you've already faced them and learned to rise. This is a game for you. Raise your face and walk firmly. If you hadn't been here, some people would have died today, think about that, forget the sorrow and live without regrets, leave that to old age, don't embitter your youth. —He took his hand and made him hold a paper bag—. I think you need to leave, your friend, young Yamagata, I think; I saw him go after someone into the alleyways on M Street, which connects to G Avenue. M Street is a labyrinth. He must need your help, go quickly.
Zhì Yuè's face remained hidden. He quickly grabbed the orc, held it like a doll, and took it with him. Before leaving, he turned to the baker and thanked him with a smile.
On the way, as he turned corner after corner, trying to find the street, the small vandal bit the adductor of his thumb; his hand ended up bleeding, but despite the pain, he ignored it completely.
He stopped abruptly. He didn't know where to go. All the streets looked identical. Three paths split in front of him. Each one emitted a strange and particular call. Which one would he take? Which was the correct way…?
Kiriya was chasing a man disguised as a merchant, with a shabby and patched-up suit. The fabric, opaque and dark, fluttered in the wind due to its looseness. His footsteps were simple. He didn't seem like someone trained. He was sweating, overly agitated and nervous. He turned another corner, glancing over his shoulder at Kiriya.
— Hey, stop already, I'm getting exhausted —he said monotonously. The man didn't respond. The young one jumped so high he was able to turn in the air, landing a few steps ahead of the man—. I said, "stop." I can't ruin this clothing, it's not mine.
The man approached brusquely, grabbed Kiriya by the neck, and slammed him against the wall.
— You shouldn't have followed me —he said, looking around with a terrified and frantic expression. His grip became suffocating on the boy's throat—. He's watching… He… He told me he would send a signal —he murmured—. You can't ruin this! —he yelled, slamming Kiriya's head against the wall—. Whatever has to happen, will happen! My family needs me! As long as they're fine… I don't care about killing others!
The intruder's strength was unusually overflowing compared to what Kiriya was used to dealing with. The man didn't seem to have any particular talent. And with the contact, Kiriya measured that his magical level was almost nonexistent. Where did he get all that strength from?
The unexpected attack and lack of air made him feel weak. His hands focused on freeing himself from his assailant.
— My daughter, the oldest, is only four years old, she can't die! She can't! I haven't even bought her a pink dress, her favorite! She's never eaten a chocolate bar… My little girl has never eaten that candy! That stupid candy! —he sobbed between tears of bitterness and sorrow—. The candy is so expensive… and I'm so poor… My little one only knows the taste of squirrel and snake… My other little one was born just three days ago, she hasn't said her first words yet, I haven't seen her walk. None of them can die! I won't allow it! I'm their father! A man protects his home! A man takes care of his family! A man must be the provider, always fight, without complaining or fearing! Be a little bit of everything, and even represent happiness only for them! That's what a good father does! I won't regret anything! I won't regret this!
— Your daughters…? Father? I don't think… the meaning of being a good father… includes turning someone into an orc…
— Transform it myself? — he laughed nervously. — You know nothing!
— Can... can it... be... reversed?! I mean... the human orc. I want to reverse it...
The question filled his pupils with doubt and panic. His assault slowed, and some air entered Kiriya. He seized the opportunity to breathe what had been denied. The false merchant's knees trembled like glass under a thunderstrike. His lips trembled, lines of saliva formed on his teeth. He exhaled air, which repelled the young man; his breath was putrid, as if a dead cat were inside him.
Is he thinking about helping others in this situation...? He was with the redhead. Does he also belong to Mermaid Wings? the man wondered. He shook his head in distress. His concern was suppressed when Kiriya tried to free himself. He quickly grabbed hold; his nails dug into the flesh.
— You... — he murmured, uncertain. It sounded hesitant, slightly hopeful.
He was about to continue his words. But he hesitated. He fell into a never-ending void of insecurities. Nothing had a solution or salvation. He remembered his daughters, the youngest crying, and the eldest playing with her dolls. He let out two more tears in impotence and fear. He bit his lips in anger and swiftly wiped his cheek with the fabric of his shoulder.
Unexpectedly, his eyes fixed on something. He let go of Kiriya. The latter collapsed on the stone. He painfully rubbed his fingers on his neck. Now there, in that part of his body, long fingers of a downtrodden farmer had appeared, even the wear marks were visible, the open lines of the palms, formed from the eternal labor of an agricultural worker. And drops of blood descended, staining his inner tunic.
Kiriya coughed intensely. With a little more pressure, his windpipe would have been crushed, or his fingers would have fully entered.
In the sky, from some point among the trees, far from the town of Starlim, an artifact was seen flying like a flare, piercing the sky, the clouds, everything that got in its way; it made a chilling sound, and seeing it was just as terrifying. The glow of the sunset bore witness to what was happening. And the orange mantle, bathing the intense red light it emitted, did not reassure the future victims of what was coming.
— That's the signal — he murmured, pulling a knife from his pocket. His hands trembled. He swallowed hard. — This is for my daughters. Yes, it is. The gods, if they exist, will forgive me. The gods will forgive me, they will. I know they will. Wherever you are! You, Mitsude! Fulfill your promise! Let my daughters live! Let them live! You have to... let them live...
Slowly, he brought the blade to his neck. His arm trembled with his fingers, and his eyes filled with an almost feverish vibration, evoking a desperate plea for help, a request for peace. His jaw could not remain firm. Sweat mounted on his forehead and merged with his tears. He gritted his teeth, as his hand desperately held onto the weapon.
His breathing was erratic, his inhalations coming from Herculean effort. The air refused to fill his lungs, intensifying with fear and terror, obstructed in the path of his life. The blood flowed rapidly through his body, the pumping of his veins heightened, his actions evident even from a distance.
The fading of the new hues and the shadow of his own body covered his image, saturating his affliction and sharpening his senses. In the air, a scent of apprehension was detected. Kiriya's skin turned pale. His senses activated, and his eyes finally showed human emotion. Terror.
— Don't do it! — Kiriya almost pleaded, ordering. — Lower it! No...!
— Make sure my daughters live — he whispered, in a cracked, raspy tone. — Nat...
His words were inaudible. His teeth detached from his gums. The bones of his hands, feet, and skull crushed together. He collapsed to the ground, screaming. Fractures were heard from various parts. His pupils became frantic. Long red lines appeared in his sclera. Blood came from his nose. His head deformed three times, as if someone were compressing it. His eyes bulged from their sockets and exploded a second after touching his cheeks.
The knife had slipped from his hand, falling near Kiriya, staining with its owner's blood. The crimson liquid exploited every opening between bone and skin to slide through. This captured the young man's remorse. His reflection became intense, in an energetic red, dragged and submerged in his sorrows. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to escape his memories and what he was witnessing.
The scene was completely disturbing. And the man's screams, his cries, were the worst of all. His throat overflowed with crimson, the sound prolonged and varied, laden with terror and agony, rising and falling irregularly, which increased Kiriya's nervousness. The shrieks were cracked and raspy, as if the voice were on the verge of breaking from the maximum effort.
A blast echoed in the sky, and the clouds emitted something similar to a powerful thunder's roar. That red flare that had previously been in the air and could no longer be seen, had exploded, and objects were heard descending violently.
But what was it? Nothing could be seen!
Seconds later, fireballs pierced through the clouds, those that hit the ground first set the southern forests on fire, and others slowly set the town ablaze. The flames devoured everything, like a river making its way in summer, increasing its flow as time passed.
There was a lifeless body in front of Kiriya. Blood was on the ground, a pool forming, and red currents descending toward him, chasing him, stalking him, blaming him.
You must be punished, murmured his subconscious. This is what you are and what you always will be. It will consume you! The price is punishment! Yes! Punishment! Fire will be your salvation, fire and metal! Only then will you pay the price! Only with that can you do it!
The smoke spread relentlessly, without limits. And the villagers' screams could be heard everywhere.
What could he do? What did he have to do? The man shouldn't have died. That wasn't the plan. He only had to capture him. How would he explain it to Zhì Yuè? He was sure Zhì Yuè would hate him! He wouldn't believe him! What could he do? He was the culprit, the only culprit!
Nobody would believe his word.
And they never will, the voice assured him, frantic and delighted. Everything you say will be a lie.
Why did someone always have to die? Was it his fault? Did it only happen when he was nearby? Was that true? If he lived, others died? Did the Kaer not lie? Did he deserve to suffer? Die? Be hurt?
— Kiriya! I'm so glad you're okay! — shouted Zhì Yuè, running toward him and looking back. — Let's go! We have to leave! — He grabbed his arm and lifted him off the ground, still running, without pausing. — We have to...
Kiriya suddenly yanked away from his grip. He stopped and turned around.
Zhì Yuè almost fell flat from the abrupt movement. Smiling nervously, he turned to Kiriya.
— What's going on? It's not that way — he explained. He approached and tried to grab his wrist. — We have to...
— Let go of me! — Kiriya shouted, pushing him away.
Zhì Yuè stood completely silent. He blamed himself for Kiriya's reaction. Once again, he had ruined it.
— I didn't... I didn't mean to... I won't touch you again. I'm sorry. Sometimes I forget things — he said, approaching him. Zhì Yuè thought Kiriya was scared. — But we have to go. There are people from Mermaid Wings...
— I told you not to come near me! Go away! Get out! — Kiriya shouted, interrupting him, and pushed him again. — It's not good for you to be near me!
Zhì Yuè really didn't know what to say. He stood completely still. His jaw trembled, and his teeth ground together. An ice spear pierced his consciousness, and he lost his sense of self. Kiriya looked angry in the darkness, not even looking him in the face.
His guilt became immense. How could he comfort him? How should he apologize? Had he hurt him too much by touching him? Had he approached him in the middle of a trauma? Or was it something he said? A word he used?
He didn't have the details, but he was aware that he had been the trigger.
— If I...
— Can't you see it? — Kiriya asked, pointing at the corpse. His expression was disturbed. His gaze was more open than usual. His eyelids expressed desperation and fear, but his eyes showed sadness and abandonment. — I... I killed him. He's dead. I killed him! He died because of me!
That's it! That's right! It was you! the voice repeated, excited and satisfied. Hearing it sent chills down his spine. *In your body, you carry the blood of everyone, EVERYONE!
Zhì Yuè cast his eyes on the knife and the blood, studying the scene as a whole.
— Are you... trying to tell me that you killed him? — he asked.
— ... Yes. This is my fault. You'd better find a place to lock me up! I should be locked up! Hidden! — he stated, looking at his hands with disgust. He touched his head and covered his ears. His breathing became erratic. — I'm just trash! I'm just trash! The Kaer family was right, I'm nothing more than a...
Zhì Yuè punched him in the chin. Kiriya fell to the ground, and Zhì Yuè grabbed his collar in anger, pounding his chest repeatedly.
— What are you trying to say?! — he asked, furious, shaking him. Kiriya looked at him, stunned, feeling his face go numb, but he dug his fingers into Zhì Yuè's arms to stop him. — How can you call yourself trash? What's going on? How can you say that? — Zhì Yuè's eyes became intense. Strangely, they turned blue. The color of fire lit up his hair and made his facial expression imposing. — Don't you have a right to live? What were you going to say? Answer me!
Zhì Yuè struggled, but Kiriya held him tightly to stop him. They fought with strength, rolling on the ground.
— Stop... — Kiriya growled.
— No!
Zhì Yuè didn't plan on letting go, so he twisted his hands in Kiriya's tunic. He turned again, landing on top of him. At the first opportunity, he slammed his fist into the ground, catching his attention.
— First of all, you should never have been chained in a basement, eating leftovers soaked in water and receiving blows! That wasn't life! You didn't deserve that! How are you asking me to lock you up? Seriously, how can you ask that after becoming my friend? How could I leave you alone and at your mercy? — he asked through tears. — You're not trash, not a murderer! You're none of what the Kaer family said! And you don't have to endure, or tolerate, the treatment they gave you. Kiriya, don't blame yourself for what's out of your control! We all want things to go as planned, and often, we wish they hadn't turned out worse than they did. And maybe, just maybe, we're totally responsible for some things, but believe me when I tell you, this is not one of them. Neither you nor I are responsible for this. And I not only want you to know this, I want you to say it. You're not responsible for this! You're not! And even if you were, in any case, I am, I'm the only one responsible! I brought you here. I told you to take the train. I allowed you to come with me. You don't have to suffer alone...
Zhì Yuè's sobs grew more intense. His voice cracked. He had so much to say, but his control and coherence had slipped aside. All the information he had organized to talk to Kiriya was now scattered by the collapse of his feelings and anguish.
Kiriya watched him, absorbed.
Zhì Yuè's head rested helplessly on Kiriya's shoulder. What more could he say? What could he do to help him? He simply didn't know. But he would try everything. He would. He wouldn't get tired. He wouldn't stop talking until he helped him, not even if they cut his tongue off, if that was possible.
— Why are you like this? — he asked between sobs. Kiriya felt his warmth, his breath was welcoming, just like the warmth of his tears, which ran down his neck and still lingered on his face, his torso was also comforting. If Zhì Yuè wasn't angry, Kiriya would have bet he was burning with fever.
— You have to forget the Kaer — he demanded, in a deep growl. — You wanted to pay me for everything, right? Then let the payment be forgetting. Forget all of that! I don't want you to remember the Kaer! Forget everything! From now on, only remember me! Only me and no one else…! I WANT YOU TO SAY YES! SAY YES! You have to do it — he pleaded, looking him in the eyes.
Kiriya lost all control. Without realizing it, without knowing it, without feeling it, without planning it, without seeing it coming, he uttered, lost in Zhì Yuè's eyes:
— Alright...
— If you give up, then what should I do? What am I supposed to do? Tell me, what would I do if we're the same?
— I already said "I'm done." I said "yes." Calm down.
Although his words seemed superficial, his tone was neutral and calm; above all, sincere.
Zhì Yuè looked at him softly. Seeing Kiriya nod calmed him.
Kiriya turned his gaze away, resting his cheek on the ground and the decorative stones of the pavement. If he allowed Zhì Yuè to get inside him, he would lose control. The feelings and emotions, the things he had spoken to him about the night they met and what he had asked him when they arrived in Starlim, would take each one of them. He would ask for them. And Zhì Yuè would give them to him. But it would be a consented theft, because feelings were something private, intimate, personal. Now he understood, yes, it was beautiful! Undoubtedly dazzling and pleasurable. It would make him greedy.
The impulses were difficult to control.
— Don't break your word — murmured Zhì Yuè. — If you do, I'll kick your ass. — Kiriya kept his gaze away, but Zhì Yuè wanted an answer, so he asked, forcefully, drawing him closer to him: — Do you understand?
Kiriya looked at him. Believing he had won, he accepted the challenge.
— I won't do it — he pronounced.
But he lost. Zhì Yuè defeated him.
The unmentionable marked the outcome.