Sola felt the stares as she approached the flower stall, clad in black.
She heard the whispers too—and lowered her gaze.
Let them whisper. Let them pretend to care. She didn't mind, so long as they stayed behind their invisible lines and left her alone.
"Sola, my dear," the elderly vendor greeted her with a sorrowful smile. "I'm so sorry. We all thought the world of Herold. He was—"
"White carnations," Sola said coldly.
The vendor flinched.
In Saka, people were used to polite smiles and pleasantries. Sola had always been known for her distant, frosty manner, but the way she looked now—sheer glacial—felt like a punch of cold air.
"Of course, darling. How many?" The woman puckered her lips into a sugary pout, attempting to thaw the mood with sweetness.
"All of them."
The vendor blinked. Her fake kindness vanished like morning mist. With a shrug, she began tying up bundle after bundle, the smile wiped clean from her face. One after another, the carnations were passed into Sola's pale arms—until there were too many to hold.
"Isn't that enough?" the woman asked, her voice now edged with irritation.
"No."
Sola shifted, gripping a few stems tighter in the crook of her arm to make space for more.
Just as the next bundle was being offered, another pair of hands reached out and took it instead.
Sola spun, ready to snap—until she recognized the voice.
"I'll carry the rest. Thanks."
Jamie.
She hadn't seen him in days. She'd locked the door and left it shut—when he came knocking in concern, and again when he'd pounded in frustration. She simply couldn't face anyone. Not then. She'd needed time.
Now, there were no more tears left to give.
And she was ready to say goodbye.
To her surprise, Jamie didn't scold her for shutting him out over the past few days.He made no comment about the excessive amount of flowers either.Instead, he simply walked beside her in silence.
Later, he helped her prepare the old dojo—the place where she and her grandfather had lived for the past nine years—for the funeral gathering.Herold had always said he wanted to be buried near the ruins close to Jamie's estate.Jokingly, he had claimed the crumbling walls were perfect for a crumbling old man like him.
At the time, Sola had thought it silly—ridiculous, even.But after hearing his story on that final night, she understood.The broken walls mirrored those of the academy in the Kingdom of Light—charred and destroyed.They were ruins like the ones where his beloved Amalie had found her final rest.Perhaps this connection would reunite them—In the heavens, in the spirit world,Or simply as dust carried by the wild winds of the earth.
Sola didn't know which of the many afterlife beliefs she truly accepted,but she wished—more than anything—that Herold and Amalie might find one another again.And so, that evening, a quiet funeral was held on the hill near the Cantan estate.
Jamie had helped without hesitation. He'd prepared the grave, carefully chosen the marble, and engraved a beautiful memorial plaque now embedded in the ground between the fallen stones.Sola had asked him through the closed door—barely a whisper—and was grateful he hadn't questioned it further.
As they prepared cakes and small sandwiches for the guests, Sola was thankful for Jamie's silence.She didn't want to talk. Not yet.
Together, they walked up to the hill, where a Shizen priest conducted the ceremony.Unlike the clergy of the Kingdom of Light, always clad in pure white, the Shizen wore richly embroidered robes—Silken garments adorned with flowers, symbolising their reverence for Mother Nature's beauty and abundance.
Sola realized she didn't know whether Herold had shared their faith.They'd never spoken about religion.But she knew he had loved his life in Saka.He had found community here,and the people had come to love him.
So it felt right—To give him a farewell that the people would understand and embrace.
The ruins were blanketed with white carnations.The priest's words were gentle, chosen with care.
Sola gave no speech.The priest laid a warm hand on her shoulder and met her eyes.
"My child," he said softly, "our gate will always be open to you."
She gave a silent nod of thanks, watching as his vibrant robes fluttered in the wind while he made his way down the hill—Followed by the mourners who had come to honour Herold's life.
They would now return to the dojo for coffee and cake,as was the custom.
Sola stayed behind.Just a while longer.
Jamie remained beside her.
"Sola, I'm here for you. Always."Jamie reached for her hand.She let him. For now.
Encouraged, he went on."I know this must be incredibly hard. And I understand that you—"
"What do you understand?" she hissed, barely above a whisper.Her voice cut through the stillness like a blade.
Jamie flinched, caught off guard by the coldness in her tone.But he didn't retreat. Instead, he tightened his grip gently, his thumb brushing against her knuckles.
"I mean… I know he was your whole family. But I want you to know that I… that I'd like to be that for you.That I want to give you a new family. I want to take care of you."
Her fingers stiffened in his.
Stop talking, she thought.Please, just stop.
His hand felt clammy now. Heavy. It weighed her down.
"Sola… for me, there's only ever been you."
She swallowed.Every fiber of her being screamed for silence.Not now. Not here.She didn't want to hear this. She couldn't.
"And I love you."
Those last words crashed into her like a tidal wave.They echoed in her skull, deafening and wrong.
He'd said it.He'd said it.
She had suspected—of course, she had—but still, hearing it aloud struck her like a slap to the face.A sense of panic rose in her throat. Overwhelming. Crippling.
She hadn't wanted this. Not from him.Not from the only person who had still meant something in this hollow village.Not now—when everything inside her had shattered.
Jamie leaned forward, awkward and uncertain.She felt the heat of his breath against her cheek as he moved in to kiss her.
It was too much.
Sola ripped her hand away.The sudden force of her movement threw Jamie off balance.With a sharp, fluid motion, she sidestepped, raised her arm—and struck him hard with the edge of her hand.
He collapsed with a gasp, stunned, landing roughly in the dirt.
Sola stood above him, her body trembling, her eyes colder than steel."Shut up," she said.Quiet. Controlled. Dangerous.
"But—"
Then she screamed.
It was a raw, piercing sound—grief, fury, desperation all in one breath.
Jamie froze.
"Just shut up! Shut the hell up!" she roared."How dare you? How dare you do this here, now?"Her voice cracked with emotion.
"He's dead, and you take advantage of that?You use this moment? You think this is about you?"
"No, no! That's not what I meant!"Jamie scrambled back, hands raised in defense as Sola advanced on him, fists clenched.
She didn't stop.
"I don't want this. I don't want your touch! I don't want your words!I want to be left alone!I want silence, damn it!"
She gestured violently toward the open fields, the hills, the sky.
"You think I want to be tied to this place?You think I want to rot here on these stupid green meadows with your stupid sheep and your stupid sympathy?"
Her voice shook now, her rage unraveling into something messier.Something older.
She screamed again, wordless this time—a sound that split the quiet landscape like thunder.
Jamie cowered, no longer trying to respond.He looked away, his face twisted in shame and helplessness.
And still, Sola's chest rose and fell with wild, broken breaths,her fists trembling at her sides.
The wind howled softly over the hilltop.
Neither of them said a word.
Furious, Sola stormed toward Jamie and nearly struck his leg—missing by a hair. Instead, her foot landed with a loud crack against a nearby stone.The impact jolted through her, pulling the blind rage from her limbs like a lightning rod.Rather than launching into another fit of screams and flailing fists, her shoulders suddenly sagged. The fury drained from her body.
And with it came the crushing realization:She was pushing away the last person who still cared.
But instead of apologizing, instead of salvaging what was left of the moment, she swallowed hard.Her golden eyes narrowed into slits.
Looking down at him—cold, detached—she whispered,"I don't need you."
Then she turned her back on him and walked away.
Jamie stayed behind, curled up on the ground, his face turned to the cloudless midday sky, tears running silently down his cheeks.
── ✧ ──
Still burning with frustration, Sola stormed back toward the dojo. Her breath came fast and shallow, and her diaphragm seized painfully with every gasp.
Is this karma? she wondered bitterly.
A chill sweat rolled down her spine as the house came into view—overfilled, loud, brimming with people.People chewing on cake like this was some village festival instead of a memorial.It made her sick.
She needed water.One hand at her waist, chest rising and falling rapidly, she pushed through the crowd, forcing her way into the kitchen.
Without a word, she grabbed a full pitcher of water, collapsed to the floor, and began drinking straight from it.
Down there, pressed against the cool tiles, she stayed.Drinking.Breathing.Trying to outrun the heat in her blood and the pain in her chest.
Bit by bit, her rage and panic subsided, leaving only dull exhaustion behind.
She closed her eyes and let the murmur of voices around her fade in and out.
"I heard they'll pass through Sakura soon. They're gathering near the Naka desert, apparently.""Yeah, I've heard that too. There must be so many of them.""I've already stopped letting my kids play outside.""Well, I'm not sure they'll really come through Saka, though…""Oh, they will. It's the shortest route.""They say it's several units—days apart, one after the other.""Should've joined the dojo years ago… some fighting skills would've been useful now.""Definitely. From now on, I'm not leaving the house without a weapon.""A weapon? Don't make me laugh. You can't even slice a carrot properly. What are you gonna do, defend yourself with a peeler?""You'll see! And for the record, my carrots are perfectly sliced. That salad over there? I made it!""Oh, Gerda, it's delicious.""Truly. You might not fight off bandits, but you could charm them with your cooking!"
Sola listened in silence as the room drifted from war to vegetables, from looming danger to vinaigrette.And once again, something twisted inside her.
She barely recognized herself.The quiet girl. The solemn one. The one who once avoided conflict.Today, something had changed.Something was burning.
How dare they?How could they speak of salads while Herold—Herold—was barely cold in the ground?
Her fists clenched on their own.Her knuckles turned white.
Then, slowly—very slowly—she rose from the floor.
Eyes sharp.Back straight.The air around her trembling.
The small group turned around in surprise—they hadn't even noticed her presence until now.At first, her voice was just a whisper, cold and sharp:"Leave."
No one moved.
"Leave."Louder now. The hiss of a rising storm.
And then she exploded again—"LEAVE! All of you! GET OUT!"
The startled guests exchanged offended looks and began to shuffle out, stiff-backed and muttering under their breaths.Let them mutter. Let them gossip.Sola didn't care—not anymore.
She shouted after the last of them as the door swung closed behind their heels, then slammed it shut with a force that made the walls shudder.
And then—She collapsed.
Alone again, bathed in the golden light of the late afternoon sun filtering through the windows, she curled into herself on the floor.Never had she felt so alone… and yet so utterly suffocated.She longed for closeness—but couldn't stand to be around anyone.
Her heart was hollow, and at the same time bursting at the seams.It made no sense. Nothing did anymore.
── ✧ ──
The next morning, Sola began to gather the flowers she had used to decorate the dojo.She tied them carefully, one stem after the other, into quiet little bundles.She would bring them to Herold's grave. Lay them gently by the marble stone they had set into the earth.
Strange, she thought, her fingers moving automatically.She had never brought him flowers while he was alive.In fact, she had never given him anything at all.Their relationship had always been… complicated. He was her senpai, her master. Not the kind of man you gave gifts to.
But if the water tribes were right—if a soul could return as a spirit to the place of its final rest—then she wanted Herold to see her tenderness, now.Flowers could do that, couldn't they?
She tucked one bundle after another into her satchel.Jamie wouldn't be there to help carry them this time.
She closed her eyes.Jamie.
Damn it.
She would stop by his house on the way back.She had to.
What she'd said to him yesterday… the way she'd screamed, the way she'd struck him down… it wasn't right. She knew that.Even if she didn't love him the way he wanted her to, Jamie had always been important to her.A friend. A constant.
And she didn't want to lose him, too.
She would fix this. Somehow.
Sola sighed.Maybe she should save one of the flower wreaths—for Jamie.
When she opened the front door, she paused.The voices from yesterday echoed in her head again.
"We should arm ourselves every time we step outside."
She hadn't really thought about the meaning behind those words.Unlike most people in Saka—especially someone like that loudmouthed Gerda—Sola was trained.Boxing, Aikido, Karate… nearly every martial art her grandfather had ever taught her.She was good. Better than most.
But would that really be enough… unarmed… against a horde of lust-driven, blade-wielding soldiers from the Red-Black Alliance?
She still didn't know how much of the talk was true.But it had been spreading. And too many were starting to act as if it wasn't just talk.
Her eyes scanned the old dojo.
A shaft of sunlight pierced through one of the high windows.It hit the far wall—and glinted off something golden.
Sola froze.
She stepped forward.Something in her chest tightened.
As her fingertips brushed the cold metal, a shiver raced through her.An electric pulse, deep and ancient, surged into her veins.Her breath caught.
She wrapped her hand around the weapon.
And lifted.
The Claw of Light.
The golden glaive was nearly as tall as she was, its shaft ornately carved and capped with a jagged, dragon-like blade—sharp, curved, predatory.
It was breathtaking.Sacred.Alive.
Sola had expected to need both hands just to pull it from the wall. But it rose easily—as if it recognized her.
The true bearer can wield the Claw, she remembered Herold once saying.
So this was it.It had accepted her.
The burden—and the honour—had passed to her.
With reverence, she fastened the heavy leather strap over her shoulder and let the weapon rest across her back.
Don't worry, Grandfather, she whispered silently.I'll honour it. And I'll protect it.
Armed with a blade of legend and a satchel full of blooms, Sola stepped into the dazzling sunlight.
── ✧ ──
She didn't take the usual path through the city centre.Instead, she chose a winding back route, weaving through narrow alleys and quieter roads.She wanted to avoid people.Avoid stares.Avoid sympathy.
Approaching the ruins from a different direction than usual, she only saw the hilltop late.
Too late.
Because when she did…She stopped.
Her stomach dropped.The air turned cold.
From the far side of the hill—Thick, dark smoke was rising.
In that instant, her other senses kicked in.The stench of scorched flesh hit her like a wall.Muffled screams. Cries of pain.The kind that shook something deep inside her.
Memories.Dark, buried, and long forgotten.They came flooding back.
The flowers slipped from her hands.She ran.
Faster than ever before.
The closer she got, the clearer the chaos became.A dozen black-clad soldiers, their blades gleaming, their hands aglow with fire, surged forward in formation.Their target: two strangers.
One—a small, agile otter with tribal markings, dodging and twisting with fluid ease. In a flash of movement, his curved dagger carved through two throats in a single strike.
The other—a young man with raven-black hair and sun-golden skin.Unarmed.But fighting.
With fists.
Behind him, half-shadowed by smoke—The white marble grave.
Sola's heart stopped.
"No!" she cried out."They're desecrating his resting place!"
Her lungs burned. Her legs, too.But she didn't stop.Didn't look away from the stone.
That white stone was all she saw.The one place in the world her grandfather was supposed to be safe.
She watched in horror as the dark-haired boy was thrown backward.His body slammed against the marble.
Blood splattered across the sacred white.His blood.
No.No, no, no.
Her thoughts raced.There could be no other death on that stone.No second soul bound to it.
Only Herold.Only him.
How dare they…
How dare they.
One of the black-clad warriors raised his blade—high above his head, ready for the final, merciless strike.
Sola was just meters away.
The sunlight caught the sword's edge—just before it began its deadly descent.
She didn't think.She didn't scream.
She moved.
With a force that tore the strap from her shoulder, Sola yanked the Claw of Light free and hurled herself forward.She met the strike mid-air.
The golden glaive clashed with the attacker's sword in an explosion of sound.The impact sent a shockwave through her arms.The metal shrieked, vibrating against her bones.
She stumbled a step back—half a meter, maybe more.But she held her ground.
Beneath her, the stranger groaned.Still alive.
He hadn't been struck.
Not yet.
"Get up!"Her voice rang like thunder.
She didn't know who he was.Didn't care.
All that mattered was that no one—no one—would die on Herold's grave.Not while she still stood.