Sora moved through the quiet streets of Balmount, her steps steady yet heavy with thought. The morning was only just beginning. Shopkeepers pushed open their shutters with scraping sounds that echoed faintly against the cobblestones. The air smelled faintly of bread baking and soot from chimneys being rekindled. Voices rose softly in idle chatter, drifting across the street like a fragile melody.
They greeted one another with the ease of routine, talking of prices, of hopes for the day's trade. Some even laughed. There was an optimism there, faint but genuine, glimmering in their eyes. A belief that Balmount was mending, that the days of despair were beginning to fade.
Sora kept her silence, her eyes moving behind her glasses in a cold, vigilant sweep. Every face, every doorway, every shadow was weighed and measured. "Look at them… so eager, so foolish. Thinking this kingdom is on the cusp of a brighter future. They don't know. They don't see it. Some of them will never live to see another sunrise when the inevitable comes."
Her chest tightened as the thought sank deeper. She sighed inwardly, the sound locked in her own mind, never reaching her lips. "Can I even protect them all? Or am I lying to myself just as they are lying to themselves with their smiles?"
Her pace slowed as the familiar scent of metal. A comfort and a burden all at once. Uncle Bram's workshop loomed ahead, sturdy against the morning light. Her heart gave a small, weary tug. "Granduncle… Uncle Thorn… hurry. Please. Before Balmount faces something it cannot recover from. Until then… I will do what must be done."
She pressed her hand to the door and pushed it open. A soft chime rang above her, its delicate sound almost mocking, out of place against the weight of her thoughts. The air inside was warm, thick with smoke, oil, and steel.
At the back of the shop, Bram worked methodically, placing swords onto racks in their usual order. When he turned and saw her, his face softened, breaking into a smile that carried both welcome and weariness.
"Ah… you came early, Sora."
"Why wouldn't I?" Her voice was flat, almost tired, but edged with determination. "I needed to be here on time. Considering today might be the day."
Bram's smile faltered, softening into something heavier. He let out a slow sigh as he crossed to the counter, his calloused hand resting against the worn wood. For a moment he didn't answer, only let the silence stretch, as if weighing her words against the reality he carried in his chest.
"Of course," he said at last, his tone low, steady. "It might happen now… or perhaps later."
Sora's eyes narrowed, her voice sharper than she intended. "Then why do you act as if nothing will happen?" The words cut through the still air, and though a flicker of guilt brushed her thoughts, she did not take them back. "Does he not see it? The storm creeping closer with every breath we take?"
Bram gave a low chuckle, deep and rumbling, though the sound did little to disguise the strain beneath it. "What would you have me do? Tremble at the covenant? We can't let fear of a potential storm consume us."
Her jaw tightened. "And when it does break? What then, Uncle? What is your plan when the streets fill with panic, when civilians are caught in the fire of it all?"
For a heartbeat, Bram said nothing. His gaze drifted across the racks of steel, the iron and ash that had shaped his life. Then he tapped the counter with two fingers, slow, deliberate, as if marking the weight of each word before speaking.
"When the time comes," he murmured, "lead them here. Beneath this shop lies a passage that will take them to safety. The civilians will not be left defenseless."
Sora let out a breath that escaped half as a laugh, half as exhaustion. It was sharp, bitter, and yet frayed at the edges, betraying the wear she carried. "I always forget how clever you are."
"Hey!" Bram protested, a frown tugging at his brow as though wounded. Yet the glint in his eyes betrayed the warmth beneath his mock indignation.
The frown eased slowly, giving way to a quiet shadow of memory. His voice lowered, almost reverent, as if he spoke to someone long gone yet still near. "I learned from the best." His hand lingered on the counter, a fleeting tether to that thought, before he pushed gently away.
"Enough of that gloom," he said, with a deliberate lightness that did not quite erase the gravity in the room. His hand gestured toward the cluttered workshop. "Help me tidy this place. I still have things that need to be sold."
He pointed toward a barrel brimming with swords, their hilts catching the light like quiet sentinels.
Sora's eyes lingered on them. A weary sigh left her lips, quiet and resigned, as if surrendering to the duty that never seemed to lift. She stepped forward, drew a sword from the barrel, and carried it to its place along the rack.
"That's a good girl," Bram said, the teasing smile on his lips deliberate, a shield of humor meant to ease her spirit. "At least you know where the weapons belong."
She did not answer. Her silence was its own blade, sharp enough to speak for her.
Bram only chuckled, warm and tired, letting the sound fill the workshop as though to fend off the silence pressing in from the world outside.
~~~~~~~~~~~
An hour slipped by at the cottage.
Inside the small room, tension sat heavy in the air. Kibo, Lily, Syl, and Ben formed a quiet tableau. Kibo's katana was sheathed at his waist. Lily and Syl had their weapons within reach, steel and wood resting close at hand, while the elf girl remained motionless on the bed, her breathing faint but steady. Ben pressed close to Syl's leg, his small body warm against her, a silent anchor in the uneasy stillness.
"Brat… what's stopping you now? Wake that thing up. Now." Ignis's voice hissed inside Kibo's head, sharp and furious, like hot iron plunged into cold water.
Kibo exhaled slowly through his nose. "You know what's stopping me, oh wise one… You." His words were muttered under his breath, spoken more to himself than to anyone else in the room.
"I don't care if your lover or that girl protests. You need to extract information from her. Now."
"I know, Ignis." Kibo's tone was a low hum, heavy with impatience. His gaze lingered on the elf girl, then flicked to Lily and Syl. "I'm the one who suggested it in the first place."
"If you did, then why waste time? Those girls will be your downfall."
Kibo rolled his eyes and let out a bitter chuckle, mocking the voice in a high, sing-song tone. "Those girls will be your downfall."
The silence that followed was venomous. Ignis did not reply, but the weight of his seething anger pressed like a storm waiting to break.
Kibo's own voice dropped lower, barely above a whisper, as he looked at Lily and Syl. "Now is the time to wake our friend here."
Lily's head lifted sharply. Her voice trembled with quiet worry. "No, Kibo. Please… let's wait a little longer."
Her tone drew Syl's frown deeper. "Why do you always have to ruin the mood?" she asked, the words edged with frustration.
Kibo's shoulders tightened, but his eyes did not leave the sleeping elf. "I have no choice but to wake her."
Syl leaned forward, her voice cracking with a rare plea as she sighed. "Please, Kibo. Just give her another hour. She has barely stirred since we brought her here."
Ben's ears flicked. He looked between the three of them, his head tilting side to side as if he sensed the weight of their disagreement. After a moment, he lowered himself, sitting close by Syl, his tail curling in tight.
Lily's voice softened, almost a whisper meant only for Kibo. "Please… let her rest. At least for a little while longer."
Kibo drew in a long breath. His eyes lingered on the girl's pale face, the fragile rhythm of her breathing. He hesitated, torn between urgency and compassion.
"Oh, brat… you are unbearably annoying." Ignis's voice returned, harsher now, frustration pouring into Kibo's mind like molten steel.
And then Ignis moved.
His presence bled outward, not with sound or light, but with something colder, heavier, impossible to name. It seeped past Kibo without resistance, as though slipping between cracks that should not exist. Unseen and unheard, he coiled into the elf girl's dreams.
The intrusion was merciless. A shadow pressing down, suffocating, smothering her fragile mind with a force that did not belong to this world…but her world. Her breath hitched, her body recoiling even in sleep, as though some predator's jaws had closed around her spirit.
Ben felt it instantly. His ears shot back, fur bristling as a shudder rippled through him. A low whimper broke from his throat before he bolted behind Syl's leg, trembling violently, as if he too had been dragged beneath that invisible weight.
"Ben? What's wrong?" Syl asked, startled by the sudden panic. Her hand dropped toward her weapon, eyes flicking to Kibo, confusion flickering like a spark.
But Kibo only stared at the elf girl, unaware of what had just happened inside her mind.
In that same heartbeat, her body jerked. A sharp, ragged cry tore free, her eyes snapping open, wide and terrified as though she had been drowning in darkness.
Kibo, Lily, and Syl froze, breath caught in the shock of the moment.
Lily was the first to break, rushing forward. "Let me get her some water!" she cried, voice high with urgency, before darting to the door.
The elf girl was gasping, her body trembling with ragged, uneven breaths. Her chest rose and fell too quickly, as though the air itself was a burden. Syl's hand hovered uncertainly above her, her sharp eyes narrowing on Kibo.
"Kibo… what did you do?" Her voice was edged with suspicion, soft but cutting.
Kibo blinked at her, taken aback. "What do you mean, what did I do?" His tone carried bewilderment, almost offense.
"You heard me," Syl pressed, her brows drawing together. "Something happened. You must have done something."
Kibo's expression hardened, shock flashing across his face. "I am truly offended by that accusation. Do you think I would harm her?"
"Then explain this," Syl said sharply, gesturing down at the cub pressed against her leg. Ben's ears were flat, his body trembling as though the very air around Kibo burned him. "If you did nothing, why is ben so terrified of you?"
Kibo's eyes flicked to the little Ironfur. Ben refused to meet his gaze, burying his face deeper into Syl's leg as if hiding from a predator. Confusion stirred in Kibo's chest. "Why would Ben fear me? What did I miss?"
Syl let out a slow sigh, though her suspicion did not ease. Her attention shifted back to the elf girl. The child was still gasping, fighting her own breath as if it threatened to crush her.
"It's alright," Syl murmured gently, lowering herself to the girl's side. Her voice softened, soothing in its calm steadiness. "You're safe. Nobody here is going to hurt you. Breathe… slowly, with me. In, and out."
The words carried weight. The elf girl's frantic breaths began to ease, though shudders still rippled through her fragile frame.
Just then, the door creaked open and Lily rushed back inside, a cup of water trembling in her hands. "Here, Syl!" she said quickly, almost out of breath herself.
Syl accepted it with a nod of thanks and guided the cup into the elf girl's hands. They shook violently, the rim rattling softly, but Syl steadied her grip, her calm presence flowing into the girl like a promise. The elf raised the cup to her lips and drank in small, cautious sips.
Lily's eyes softened as she watched, admiration flickering in her gaze. Yet when she turned, her concern shifted to Ben. The cub was still trembling, his small body a bundle of fear. She crouched down, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ben… what's wrong, little one?"
She scooped him gently into her arms. He pressed himself close against her chest, refusing to let go, seeking warmth and safety.
The elf girl lowered the cup, her lips wet, her breathing steadier now. Syl quietly took it from her and set it aside.
"Now, brat, start asking the elf questions." Ignis's voice cracked like a whip inside Kibo's mind, sharp and merciless.
Kibo's jaw tightened. "What's the rush?" he muttered back under his breath.
"You waste time… again. Do not forget, your sadistic aunt could come at any moment."
Kibo exhaled heavily, unwilling to argue further. Syl, unaware of the silent exchange, offered the elf girl a gentle smile. "Hello. My name is Syl. This is Lily, Kibo, and little Ben." She pointed to each of them in turn, her tone warm but deliberate. "Can you tell us your name?"
The elf girl hesitated, her voice barely audible when it came. "Isilwen…"
"Wow," Lily whispered instantly, a smile breaking across her face. "That's such a beautiful name."
Isilwen's lips trembled, but a faint smile bloomed in response to the compliment. It faded quickly, though, as a memory flashed in her eyes. She stiffened. "The bea…"
"It's alright," Syl cut in quickly, her voice steady. "She was the one who carried you here. You are safe. She'll return when she can."
A shadow of disappointment crossed Isilwen's features. Her voice cracked softly. "I couldn't even thank her properly."
Kibo opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, a violent pounding thundered against the door. The sound jolted the walls, frantic and unrelenting.
Everyone froze.
"Who is that?" Kibo's thoughts raced, panic tightening his chest. "Are they the slave traders? Have they come for the elf girl?" His eyes locked on Isilwen, her own wide with fear.
"Ah… this is what I was not expecting." Ignis's voice slithered through Kibo's mind, a low growl of disappointment that coiled like smoke.
"Who do you think is at the door?" Lily whispered, her words trembling on the edge of fear.
"It must be the people who kidnapped her," Syl murmured, her sharp gaze flicking to Isilwen.
The elf girl winced, her whole body stiffening as if invisible chains wrapped around her again. Though her wounds had healed, the memory of pain and terror had not. Her hands clenched tight in her lap, knuckles white.
"Calm down," Kibo said firmly, stepping forward. "I'll go…"
Before he could finish, the knocking grew louder, each thud shaking the air. Then, cutting through the heavy silence, a calm voice called from outside. "Hello? Is anybody home?"
The shift in tone made the room fall still. Lily and Syl both turned to Kibo, eyes wide. In Lily's arms, Ben clung tightly to her. Though he had gone quiet, his body still trembled faintly, the fear of Kibo buried deep within him.
"You both stay close together," Kibo said, his voice low, commanding, the words edged with urgency. "I'll check. If anything happens, I will alert you. Your main priority is to protect yourselves. If it becomes something beyond us, you must run."
"But what if you get left behind?" Lily asked quickly, her voice breaking. Her grip around Ben tightened. She knew, in her heart, that Kibo was the kind who would throw himself in harm's way without hesitation even though she had warned him countless times not to do that.
Kibo's lips parted, but before he could answer, Syl cut in softly. "Kibo, we would not want to leave you behind."
Another bang rattled the door, harder this time, making the walls shudder. The air grew sharp with tension.
"There is no time for this!" Kibo snapped, his voice tight, frustration seeping through. "The one at the door already knows we are here."
"Brat… why explain yourself like a fool? Get to the door before it is broken down. Or do you want to look even weaker?" Ignis's rage surged, a suffocating tide pressing from all directions.
Kibo's chest rose and fell with a slow, heavy sigh. He looked back at the others. "Do not worry. I will not be left behind." His words carried a steady conviction, though his eyes betrayed the weight on his shoulders.
Lily suddenly blurted out, her voice small but desperate, "Just… don't let it be another giant cat, please. I still have nightmares from the last one."
Syl gave her a look, half disbelief and half weary fondness. "Lily, now is hardly the time."
"But what if it is?" Lily whispered, eyes wide.
For the briefest moment, the tension cracked. Even Kibo's lips twitched, though his face quickly returned to steel. "cats or not, I'll deal with it."
He turned, leaving the room with steps so silent the old floorboards barely groaned. The hall swallowed him in quiet.
"Whatever you do… use your gifts to your advantage." Ignis's voice was a final, cold lash.
Kibo tilted his head slightly, whispering under his breath, "Alright." Then louder, his voice echoing in the still corridor, "Who is it?"
From the other side of the wood, the calm voice returned, polite and unshaken. "Forgive the disturbance… but I am in need of your assistance."
Kibo's hand hovered a moment over the door. He drew in a deep breath, then pulled it open.
The figure standing there had black hair streaked with strands of silver that caught the light like steel. His eyes were a deep, blood-red, striking and unnatural. A paladin's clothing gleamed faintly on their form, and at their hip rested a sheathed sword.
The person smiled easily, his eyes closed in disarming calm.
"Hello…My name is Veyron."