The days after their encounter with the ABB and the thugs passed in a haze for Rose. Guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders, making her feel as if the air in their temporary shelter was pressing down on her chest. The warehouse, while offering some safety, was cold and damp, with cracks in the walls that let in the chill of the coastal winds. Rose found herself pacing the dusty floors more often than she cared to admit, trying to process the events that had unfolded.
Glaistig Uaine seemed unbothered, spending her time sitting on the edges of the broken furniture, her posture regal despite the derelict surroundings. She would hum haunting tunes that echoed faintly in the hollow space, occasionally casting glances at Rose as though studying a particularly intriguing piece of art.
Rose rarely ate, even when Glaistig brought food back—stolen from the nearby markets, no doubt. Her appetite had vanished alongside her confidence. She had almost killed people, her magic spiraling out of her control. Worse, she couldn't shake the memory of the civilians' frightened faces. It gnawed at her, filling her mind with doubt.
---
"Little sorceress," Glaistig Uaine said one evening, interrupting Rose's pacing. Her voice carried its usual lilting quality, but there was a sharpness to it. "Your endless brooding is becoming tedious."
Rose paused mid-step and turned to glare at her. "I'm trying to figure out what to do."
"And have you succeeded?" Glaistig tilted her head, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Because from where I sit, it seems you're only tormenting yourself."
"I—" Rose faltered, unsure how to respond. "I need to be better. I need to control myself. People got hurt because of me."
"Ah, yes," Glaistig mused, her glowing green eyes narrowing slightly. "Your precious morality. Tell me, little sorceress, do you intend to chain yourself to it forever?"
"It's not a chain," Rose snapped. "It's—"
"Freedom?" Glaistig finished, arching a brow. "Interesting. You wield power that could unmake cities, yet you shackle yourself with guilt. Such potential, wasted."
Rose crossed her arms, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Not everyone is like you. I don't want to hurt people."
"And yet, when the time comes, you will." Glaistig stood, walking toward Rose with a predatory grace. "You can't avoid it, little sorceress. Power demands sacrifice. Whether you choose to admit it or not, the threads of fate have already begun to tighten around you."
Rose looked away, her cheeks burning. "You're insufferable."
Glaistig laughed softly, a sound that was both musical and unsettling. "And you're adorable when you're flustered."
---
The following morning, after much prodding from Glaistig, Rose finally agreed to leave the shelter. The fog had mostly lifted, though a damp chill lingered in the air. The docks were a patchwork of activity, with workers taking crates from what little rusted ships that can get through despite the boat graveyard. Despite its worn-down appearance, the area was bustling, and Rose found herself momentarily distracted by the sheer normalcy of it.
"This place is alive with stories," Glaistig murmured as they walked. "Every soul here is a thread, weaving together a tapestry of chaos and fate."
Rose glanced at her, unsure whether to respond. Glaistig often spoke in riddles, leaving Rose to decipher her cryptic musings. Instead, she focused on the sights and sounds around them, trying to remind herself of what they were fighting for.
But the peace didn't last. Unbeknownst to them, their movements had been tracked.
---
At the PRT headquarters, Armsmaster stood before a group of assembled PRT agents and Miss Militia. The monitor behind him displayed grainy footage of Glaistig Uaine and her companion walking through the docks.
"This is our opportunity," he said, his tone firm. "We have confirmation that they're in the area. Dragon's drones will provide support, but we need to act quickly before they disappear again."
"Do we have any idea who the companion is?" Miss Militia asked, her brows furrowed.
"Not yet," Armsmaster admitted. "We're referring to her as Sorceress for now, given her apparent energy-based abilities. Approach with caution. Glaistig Uaine is our primary target, but if the companion is hostile, neutralize her as well."
The team nodded, tension thick in the air as they prepared to deploy.
---
Rose and Glaistig were nearing the edge of the docks when the ambush happened. Protectorate heroes emerged from the alleys and side streets, their weapons drawn and powers ready. Dragon's drones circled above, their red lights casting ominous glows on the cracked pavement.
"Glaistig Uaine," Armsmaster called out, stepping forward. "Surrender peacefully, and no one has to get hurt."
Glaistig's smile widened, her glowing eyes flaring. "How quaint. The knights have come to slay the dragon."
Rose's heart sank. She recognized several of the heroes—icons of justice who had likely inspired countless people. And yet, she knew Glaistig would show them no mercy.
"Stay back, little sorceress," Glaistig said softly. "You need your rest."
"No, I can help—" Rose began, but Glaistig raised a hand, silencing her.
"Watch and learn."
The fight began with an explosion of movement. Armsmaster charged forward, his halberd crackling with energy, while Miss Militia fired precision shots from a conjured rifle. Dragon's drones descended, unleashing bursts of suppressive fire.
But Glaistig moved like a wraith, her cloak billowing around her as she danced through the chaos. She summoned her specters, ghostly figures that struck with terrifying precision, disarming and disabling her opponents with ease. PRT agents fell one by one, their attacks deflected or nullified by her overwhelming presence.
Despite the brutality of her methods, Glaistig left them alive. She disarmed Armsmaster with a flick of her wrist, his halberd clattering to the ground and sent him flying into the ground so hard the the road cracked with him not moving. Miss Militia was smashed into a wall by a spectral knight knocking her unconscious and looking like she was barely breathing, her weapons dissolving into mist.
When the last drone was destroyed, Glaistig stood amidst the wreckage, untouched and unbothered. She turned to Rose, her expression calm.
---
"You didn't have to go that far," Rose said, her voice trembling as they moved away from the scene. "They're heroes. They were just doing their jobs."
Glaistig glanced at her, her smile faint but sharp. "I went easy on them, little sorceress. Had I taken their specters, they would be mine forever. Be grateful for my mercy."
"Mercy?" Rose repeated, aghast. "You call that mercy? You brutalized them!"
"They will heal," Glaistig said dismissively. "You still don't understand, do you? This world is cruel. To survive, you must be crueler."
Rose stopped walking, her fists clenched. "I don't want to survive like that."
Glaistig paused, her gaze softening ever so slightly. "You have potential, little sorceress. One day, you'll see the threads as I do. Until then, I will protect you… even if you hate me for it."
Rose didn't respond. She couldn't. The weight of Glaistig's words—and her actions—pressed heavily on her, leaving her more uncertain than ever about the path they were on.