Chapter 1: Escape
Chapter Text
Decades ago…
After what felt like another eternity, Haru awoke from a sleep filled with dread and torment. When she reluctantly opened her eyes, it was the usual sight. She was frozen, able to do nothing but silently watch the world through the crystal in which she was trapped. This was her existence for a long time, ever since Aephorul had imprisoned her in this silent hell. It was like an eternal dream from which she could never truly wake, except her waking phases were their own nightmare.
Aephorul visited her sometimes when she was awake, to talk—or rather, to ramble. He'd go on about his newest creations, his sick experiments. Every time, she wanted to scream at him, to hit him—to make him regret everything he had done to her. But she was powerless, paralyzed.
He could see it. See it in her eyes, the way she glared at him while he stood there, smug and untouchable. That stupid grin never left his face as he looked at her motionless form, as if her hatred and helplessness only fueled him. He'd finish his speeches with the same words, the ones that made her blood boil: "Remember, Haru, it's all for your best." His voice, sweet and fake, was as twisted as his body. She could hear it even in her disturbing, never-ending nightmares, his voice already deeply rooted in her mind, deep within her subconscious. When she was awake, she could see how he would teasingly wiggle those weird tentacles that had grown from him, part of the monster he had become.
Aephorul had once been a good friend, someone she trusted for decades. And now? He was her captor, her enemy, after killing everyone but her. To this day, she still can't quite believe how things could have gone downhill so quickly, how she suddenly lost everything.
And still, part of her wanted to believe him. After hearing it over and over for what felt like forever, a small part of her started to wonder - was this for her own good? Maybe it was. He used to be her friend. Maybe being stuck in this crystal really was the best thing for her.
But she knew better. She knew it was wrong. She knew that he was no longer her friend, but the murderer of her family, of her kind.
Some days, she just wanted it all to end. She’d beg him with her eyes, pleading for him to kill her, to finally end her suffering. But he’d just laugh, always repeating the same line. “It’s all for your best.”
Haru had spent the last millennia completely immobile—either in a deep slumber, reliving her worst nightmares, or fully awake, trapped in another nightmare where she couldn’t move at all. How long had it been? She didn’t know. It just felt like eternity.
But today was different.
When she woke up this time, something was off. She could see more clearly… could breathe more easily. And when she tried to go through her usual routine - trying to move, only to feel the familiar panic of being frozen - she actually could move. Instantly, her heart started pounding, and her breath came in quick, shallow bursts as panic set in.
Her eyes flew open. What the hell happened? She glanced around the room, her gaze landing on the shattered remnants of the crystal scattered on the floor.
Had someone saved her?
She tried moving again, her body trembling with the unfamiliar sensation. She stared down at her hands, watching as her fingers twitched. They shook violently, but they moved. She leaned forward, the movement unsteady, and fell out of the crystal with a soft hiss of pain. Her knees hit the ground hard, her weakened body barely able to hold itself up. She was so thin, so weak.
“Fuck…” she croaked, her voice barely a whisper, rough from disuse. Her throat was dry, parched by millennia of silence. She began to sob as the weight of everything crashed down on her. The panic surged again, her chest tightening, making it even harder to breathe.
On all fours, trembling and gasping, tears rolled down her face, dripping onto the dark floor beneath her. She felt so fragile, so broken. In that moment, she was probably more miserable than she had ever been.
After a few moments, Haru tried to pull herself together, forcing her body to move. Her legs shook unnaturally as she attempted to stand, but somehow, she managed to stay upright. She looked around, taking in her surroundings. The dark room felt like a small shrine, with old stone walls and the remains of the crystal built into the back wall, glowing faintly in the dim light.
As Haru continued to scan the room, she realized something crucial - there were no guards. No footsteps, no voices. Nothing. She needed to act fast. Now that she was really free, she wasn’t about to let herself be caught again. Slowly, she started moving forward, each step shaky and uncertain. She leaned heavily against the wall for support, trying to get her body to cooperate after so long without movement.
She had no idea what was happening or why the place was so empty, but the entire complex was eerily silent. The tunnels she crept through were dimly lit by faint purple lights on the walls, casting long shadows that made her heart race. Her body and mind were on high alert, bracing for the worst. Someone could appear at any moment, and she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to defend herself. Her body was malnourished, she was too weak.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally reached the exit. A deep sigh escaped her lips, the cool night air hitting her face as she stepped out of the cave. It was dark - probably the middle of the night - and the world outside looked completely unfamiliar. A dense forest stretched out in front of her, but something was off.
The trees had deep red leaves, almost blood-like in color, and their trunks were a strange, greyish tone. Haru stared at them, her stomach tightening with unease. She’d never seen trees like this before. It was as if the world around her had changed while she was locked away. Or worse… as if she didn’t belong here at all.
Suddenly, hissing voices echoed through the cave tunnels behind her. Haru’s head snapped in the direction of the noise, her breath catching in her throat.
“The prisoner! She’s gone!” a squeaky voice shrieked in panic.
Another, deeper voice echoed through the tunnels. “We need to get her back, immediately!”
Haru’s eyes widened as the realization hit her. Someone was coming. Someone was after her. Without thinking, her legs moved on their own, and she bolted through the exit of the hidden cave into the forest. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, fueled by a mix of raw fear and desperate determination. She ran as fast as her weakened body could carry her, pushing herself harder with each shaky step. The dense, overgrown forest stretched out endlessly before her, and she had no idea where she was heading. But that didn’t matter right now. Every step could be her last taste of freedom.
Fear pushed her forward. She couldn’t stop. Not when she was finally free after so long. With nothing but the tattered clothes clinging to her body, she kept running, heart hammering and lungs burning. She couldn’t let them catch her. Not again.
As Haru navigated through the dark woods, she could feel the guards chasing her, their presence like a constant weight pressing on her back. She didn’t dare look behind her. Her legs felt like lead, already so tired they screamed for her to stop, to give up. Her breath came in ragged, desperate gasps, each one burning her throat. Branches snagged at her clothes, clawing at her arms and face as she forced her way through the thick undergrowth.
Her body was betraying her, her strength fading fast, and her mind teetered on the edge of despair. The trees felt like they were closing in, their gnarled branches stretching out like fingers, ready to drag her back to that crystal, back to her prison. Every rustle of the leaves, every snap of a twig, sent sharp spikes of fear through her chest. Every shadow seemed to whisper her name, calling her back to where she’d been trapped for so long.
She was alone. Utterly alone in this escape, with nowhere to run and no one to help her.
Her legs ached, the muscles screaming with every step, but she couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of catching her again, of locking her away like some twisted trophy. She would keep running, even if the world itself collapsed around her. And maybe - just maybe - there was a place where she could stop running. A place where the screams of her family would finally stop echoing in her head.
But no matter how hard Haru tried, no matter how strong her will to survive was, her body eventually reached its limit. Pushed far beyond what it could take, her legs buckled, and she collapsed onto the cold, unyielding earth.
As she lay there, her face pressed into the dirt, the scent of the earth filled her senses, grounding her in the present moment, even as her mind teetered on the edge of oblivion. Her tears mixed with the soil beneath her, smearing mud across her cheeks. In the distance, a bird called out to the dawn, its soft song a jarring contrast to the darkness that weighed down her soul.
She wanted to stop. To let go. To let Aephorul find her and drag her back. But something deep inside her wouldn’t allow it. A small spark that told her to keep going, to fight. After everything - after being trapped for so many years - she couldn’t give up now.
With a tremendous effort, she shifted. Her arms trembled as they tried to lift her weight. Her fingers clawed at the damp earth, and she began to drag herself forward, inch by agonizing inch. Every movement was pain, but every inch was a victory. Her eyes, heavy with exhaustion and fear, refused to close. She would not sleep. She could not rest. Not yet.
But the energy that flickered inside her was fading fast. The cold seeped into her bones, and her movements became slower, more labored. The darkness, which had briefly retreated, now crept back, closing in around her vision. The bird's song faded, and the forest grew unnervingly quiet, as if it, too, was waiting.
“No…no no no…Please…”
Haru’s whispered pleas turned silent as her body stopped responding, no longer obeying her desperate commands. She could feel consciousness slipping away, and with it, the light of dawn seemed to dim. Reaching out one last time, her hand brushed the cool, damp leaves, a final connection to the world she had fought so hard to escape.
Her strength gave out completely. Her eyes fluttered shut, and the forest claimed her, wrapping her in an inescapable embrace. The darkness enveloped her at last, and the struggle faded into stillness. Haru’s fight ended with a whisper, swallowed by the silence of the woods.
Aephorul felt the urgency pounding through his veins as he rushed to the shrine; he was running late, dangerously so. Under normal circumstances, he was meticulous with the timing of the seal's renewal. Yet, ironically, it was precisely when the ritual demanded his utmost attention that Resh‘an chose to challenge him, luring him into a needless confrontation As he clenched his jaw tight, a bitter mixture of hope and desperation swirled within him. Aephorul could only hope that fortune was still on his side.
However, as he stepped into the sanctity of the shrine, the sight that met his eyes confirmed his greatest fears. The shattered remains of the crystal lay before him - her ancient, silent prison, that had silenced her for millennia - now broken.
Aephorul had hidden her there in this sanctuary, holding her captive as his greatest secret and treating her as a prized possession, a trophy to gaze upon at his leisure. In that sealed crystal, she could not flee from him, could not deny him. Her beauty was meant to be his alone, frozen in time forever.
But now, she was gone.
His body shook as a cold wave of fury washed over him, making his veins boil with hatred. Hatred not only for Resh'an, whose ignorance of his precious secret had caused this disaster, but for the uncontrollable turn of events.
He had to find Haru, reclaim her as fast as possible. The consequences of failure were unimaginable. Should Resh’an cross paths with her first, the consequences that would unfold could ruin everything. A jolt went through him - the deep, cancerous feeling he hated to the core enveloped his body, making his his blood boil. The thought of them together tightened like a noose around his heart, if he still had anything like a heart at all. She was his alone to cherish, to control. No one else had the right to claim her.
With a sharp snap of his disfigured fingers, Aephorul summoned one of his most trusted subordinates, the Soul Curator. Materializing from the shadows, a grotesque, misshapen creature stood before him - a ghastly figure draped in tattered robes that whispered of ancient tombs and forgotten secrets. Its red eye fixed intently on Aephorul, awaiting his command.
"Address this matter," Aephorul commanded with a steely tone. "Gather your subjects and retrieve the wind maiden. Spare no effort and let no obstacle stand in your way."
The Soul Curator bowed deeply, its form shimmering with a spectral light as it absorbed the weight of its task. "It shall be done, my lord" it hissed, its voice a chilling echo that seemed to come from the depths of the earth itself. With another nod from Aephorul, the Soul Curator vanished as swiftly as it had appeared, leaving only a cold breeze in its wake.
Aephorul turned away from the crystal, his torn cloak billowing around him as he contemplated the success of the mission. He knew that with the Soul Curator leading the search, Haru's return was all but assured. The wheels were set in motion, and he could almost feel the balance of power shifting back into his favor.
But simply getting her back was not enough. Aephorul was determined to reassert his control, ensuring she could never escape again. The entire scheme had to be revised in order to avoid issues like this again.
One of Aephorul’s tentacles brushed over a broken part of the crystal, picking it up to examine it more closely. He definitely needed to enhance the security of her prison by reconstructing the shattered crystal and deploy more guards in the future. A new and more secluded location for the seal is also required to ensure that Haru remained out of sight from the world, cocooned in an environment where escape was unthinkable even if she would be able to break out again.
"Don't think you can escape me that easily, Haru." Aephorul snarled as he tightened his grip on the crystal before letting go.
As he meticulously reviewed the renewed plans in his head, Aephorul vanished into the enveloping shadows of the ancient shrine, returning to his upcoming tasks while waiting for her to be found and brought back.
Notes:
Thanks for reading the first chapter of my story. Please let me know if you like it :) See ya!
Chapter 2: Brisk
Notes:
Hi, here is my next chapter! Now the main story begins. In general, the plot follows the storyline of the game with a few adjustments.
FYI I'm going to include throwbacks/flashbacks for the following chapters to tell you more about the background and the development of the three (Haru, Aephorul and Resh'an). And I'm not going to stick entirely to the plot of the game so that the background and my OC fits into the story (I have to make some adjustments, especially for the background) :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Present
As the sun dipped towards the horizon, casting a radiant tapestry of orange and pink across the sky, Haru finally arrived at home. The capitol of the ovates was always renowned for its splendor and ancient history, a marvel of fantastic architecture. The buildings, crafted from moonstone and sunstone, shone with an ethereal light, their surfaces reflecting the sunset’s fiery palette, transforming the city into a living mosaic.
The streets of the capitol were alive with vibrancy. Magical fire orbs floated above the bustling crowd, illuminating the pathways and casting shimmering reflections on the intricate mosaic tiles underfoot. The air was filled with the harmonious blend of distant laughter, the tinkling of crystal wind chimes, and the soft murmur of fountains that adorned every plaza. Market stalls lined the boulevards, offering exotic fruits that glowed from within, and fabrics that shifted colors with the viewer’s angle. Musicians played instruments that looked as if they were spun from starlight, their melodies weaving through the air, enchanting the listeners.
The city, with its blend of natural magic and cultivated beauty, was a sight to behold, making Haru's heart swell with a profound sense of belonging as she walked through the streets. Every corner held a memory, every scent brought back stories of her youth. The city, alive with both magic and everyday liveliness, welcomed her back like an old friend.
Haru passed through archways draped with vines that sparkled with tiny luminescent flowers, each step bringing her closer to home. Children ran by, their laughter echoing as they chased after each other.
Turning down a familiar lane, Haru approached a neighborhood where the houses were adorned with colorful gardens. The leaves of the trees rustling softly in the gentle evening breeze. As her family's home came into view, a smile began to spread across her face, her heart swelled with anticipation.
Excitement bubbled inside her as she approached the familiar teal door. The years had softened the edges of the old house, yet everything felt as comforting and familiar as her childhood memories. Her mother welcomed her at the entrance, overjoyed to finally be able to hold her in her arms again. The familiar scent of jasmine greeted her as she hugged her mother tightly, giving her a feeling of safety.
Her mother was in the kitchen, humming a tune while stirring a pot of Haru‘s favorite stew and her father, glasses perched on his nose, was engrossed in a novel but looked up to smile at her. Tori, her younger sister, bounced around them, weaving tales of her little adventures. Haru felt a surge of happiness, this was what she had missed after travelling around for such a long time.
The evening unfolded with laughter and shared stories. They gathered around the old wooden dining table, plates filled with steaming food, under the gentle light of the chandelier. It was as if no time had passed, and Haru was a child again, safe and cherished.
But suddenly, the room chilled. The light dimmed as if a cloud had passed over the moon, casting long shadows across the walls. Haru felt a creeping dread rise in her throat. She turned toward Tori, wanting to reach out, to grasp something familiar, but stopped dead.
Tori was no longer bouncing with youthful energy. Instead, her lifeless body hung grotesquely from the wall, her small chest opened, displaying her innards as a nightmarish artwork. Blood dripped down the wallpaper, pooling on the hardwood floor under her dead sister. Her eyes, once sparkling with mischief, stared coldly at Haru.
Haru could feel her throat tightening in panic, making her gasp for air. As she turned around, her parents were sprawled across the floor, lifeless and silent, a dark crimson staining the carpet around them. The room, once filled with the melody of familial love, now echoed with the ghastly stillness of death.
Haru’s knees buckled, her mind recoiling from the horrific sight. Tears blurred her vision, her heart wrenched with an unspeakable grief and terror. The walls seemed to close in, the shadows twisting into monstrous shapes. She tried to scream, but her throat was so tight that only a small sob could escape.
Suddenly a whisper cut through the silence, chilling her to the bone. It was a voice she knew well, one that had always spoken to her with warmth and tenderness. But now, it was laced with a haunting coldness.
"It's all your fault, Haru," the voice murmured, barely louder than a breath, yet it reverberated in the depths of her soul. She turned slowly, her heart pounding wildly, to find no one behind her—only the shadows that seemed to creep closer with each passing second.
"You could have saved them," the voice continued, as if coming from everywhere and nowhere. The familiar timbre was unmistakable.
„Resh’an…?“ Haru’s whisper wass filled with fear. Her eyes were scanning the surroundings, looking for him. Yet, he moved silently through the room, unnoticed like a passing shadow.
His intrusive whisper continued to echo through her head. His voice was now a twisted echo of its former self, filled with disappointment and provocation. "If only you hadn’t left them, they wouldn’t be dead" His vehement accusations brought her to the brink of madness.
„No, no, no, no, please stop“ Haru clutched her head, trying to block out the voice, her fingers tangling in her hair with desperate force, but it kept getting louder and more insistent: „You are a disgrace to them. Your family's blood is on you forever“ The words infiltrated every corner of her consciousness, repeating, reverberating, until they became the only thing she could hear. Reality blurred, the edges of the room melting into a dark abyss that threatened to swallow her whole.
„Please leave me alone…“ Haru breaths were quick and shallow, she began to rock back and forth, her eyes wide with terror. The once familiar room transformed into a terrifying arena of her deepest fears. The blood, the still bodies of her family, the chilling coldness—they all merged into a grotesque tapestry of guilt.
The whispers continued, each word felt like a dagger that plunged further and further into her heart. As Haru’s thoughts spiraled uncontrollably, she tried to scream as loud as she could, in the hope that it would finally stop. She felt her grasp on sanity slipping, her mind succumbing to the relentless tide of blame and the overwhelming sense of dread.
Haru awakes with a gasp, her body jolting upright as she escaped the clutches of her nightmare. For a moment, she sits frozen, her breath ragged, her heart pounding fiercely against her ribcage and tears streaming down her face. Slowly, the fog of sleep and terror lifts, and she begins to take in her surroundings, realizing she is no longer in the horrific setting of her dream, but in her own bunk aboard a ship.
Haru exhales slowly as she watches her hands tremble in the dim light of the cabin. She looks around the cramped quarters of her bunk, her gaze falling on the small porthole that offeres a view of the vast ocean beyond. The sight of the water, calm and expansive, serves as a stark contrast to the tumult inside her. "Fuck…" she whisperes to herself, her voice a mere thread of sound.
It was just a dream - again. Haru has suffered such nightmares for a long time, but each one feel as terrifying and real as the last. As her mind churns restlessly in the wake of her nightmare, every time she keeps asking herself the same desperate question: When will it finally end? Yet, in the depths of her soul, she knows the answer. It was a truth she has come to accept, though it offers no comfort:
It will never end. The thought echoes through her, bleak and unyielding. The nightmares that haunts her nights were relentless. Each one a vivid replay or twisted remembrance of the horrible events she had to endure. The familiar unpleasant feeling of sudden tightness spreads through her body like a firm grip that envelops her, making it difficult for her to breathe. The nightmares cling to her like a second skin, a dark mirror reflecting her deepest fears and sorrows. The guilt that often shadows her thoughts in the wake of these dreams surges fiercely within her.
Even though Haru has survived the passing of decades after escaping from Aephorul’s grip, it feels as if her soul has never rested, broken and haunted by memories that time cannot erase. Yet she knows she can't let it consume her. She has to move on.
Haru pushes the blankets aside and swings her legs over the side of the bunk. Her feet touch the cool wooden floor, grounding her back to reality. As the ship rocks gently to the rhythm of the sea, she takes another deep breath, steadying herself. She can hear the muffled sounds of the crew's morning activities above deck—the creak of ropes, the thud of boots and distant calls. As she peeks through the porthole, Haru glimpses the first light of dawn reflecting off the gentle waves, a reminder of the world’s vastness and the smallness of her momentary fears. Today, she will finally arrive in Bricks, the lively trading and port town known for its bustling markets and vibrant harbor life.
Haru takes a deep breath and adjusts her simple white top by tucking it into her brown pants, the movements methodical. Then she slips into her burgundy haori, the fabric falling neatly around her frame, a familiar weight that felt both comforting and empowering. Draping a dark brown scarf around her neck, she pulls it up to cover her face up to her eyes, shielding her identity from the outside world. With concentrated movements to calm her still slightly trembling hands she ties her brown hair into a loose high ponytail. Next, her hand reaches for her katana, the sword’s handle fitting securely and reassuringly in her grasp.
As Haru makes her way to the ship's deck, she greets the passing crew members with a nod. Stepping out into the open air, Haru is greeted by the sight of Brisk on the horizon. The town is now clearly in view, its bustling port and colorful buildings sprawl out like a vibrant tapestry along the coast.
She pauses for a moment, letting the view of Brisk fill her vision.
„It shouldn't be too much longer, miss. Then we'll dock in Brisk,“ announces a tall and muscular man who suddenly steps into Haru's line of sight. Flint – a member of the pirate crew that has taken her aboard. After she has helped them out of a precarious situation on Evermist Island, they have gratefully offered her passage back to Brisk as a token of their appreciation.
She gives him a friendly nod. „I can’t wait to finally see the town with my own eyes.“ Flint's face breaks into a broad grin, his eyes twinkling with a mix of camaraderie and mischief. "I'm sure you'll have a good time there. It is, after all, the most buzzing town on the entire ocean."
It isn't long before they finally reach Sleeper Island. After her ship docks in Brisk, Haru disembarks and is immediately enveloped by the town’s vibrant atmosphere. As she enters the marketplace, the streets buzz with the energy of commerce and the air is rich with the scent of spices. Merchants shout over colorful stalls filled with exotic goods, their voices mingling with the lively chatter of traders and the occasional laughter of children weaving through the crowd. The architecture around her is a charming blend of practicality and ornamentation, typical of a thriving trading town.
Drawn to the coastal district by the sound of seagulls and the tang of salt air, Haru discovers The Humble Boast. The tavern is as unique as the town itself, housed within the hull of a stranded sailing ship. Haru decides to go inside to get something to eat and drink. She chooses a secluded spot and orders a meal, picking dishes that promises the flavors of the region.
As Haru sips her drink and enjoys her meal, the tavern door swings open. Three young travellers make their way through the crowded room, their presence attracting attention. There is a blond boy with a trained physique, a chubby brown-haired boy, and a blue-haired girl whose stern expression seemes to mirror the seriousness of their mission.
Haru notices the distinctive cloth hanging from their robes, woven with threads that shimmer subtly—a sure sign of magic. The blond boy and the blue-haired girl are Solstice Warriors, known for their ability to wield solar or lunar magic against the monstrous creations of the dreaded Fleshmancer.
Just the thought of that name instinctively makes her feel uncomfortable. Every time she hears his name or given title or thinks about him, it stirs up a deep, dark well of emotions in her – hatred, grief and guilt. Nevertheless, she tries to stay focused on the trio.
Over the past decades, Haru has created a mask to shield her inner feelings from the world, much like the physical scarf she wears to cover her face. This mask is her armor against the eyes of the world, hiding the turmoil that roils beneath her calm exterior.
The trio scans the room before settling down at the bar, not far from where Haru is seated. She can't help but overhear their conversation. They are discussing their urgent need to find a ship that will take them to Wraith Island, to confront and eliminate the Dweller of Woe, one of the Fleshmancer’s terrifying creations.
Haru's interest is piqued. As they speak, a group of pirates joins them at the table. The blue-haired girl, clearly the leader of the trio, addresses them directly. “We should hurry,” she says, her voice firm. “The people of Wraith Island need us. Let us begin.”
The smaller, more chubby pirate of the group grins fatly „Then let us begin. The deal stands. If you can’t beat Valtraid at arm wrestling ya’ll gonna neet to fet. After that we will take you to Wraith Island.“
Confidently, the brown-haired boy, who seems to be called Garl, sits down across from Valtraid. The tavern's patrons gathers around, drawn by the challenge. Valtraid's rather slender build gives the impression he would be at a disadvantage against his opponent, who is visibly bulkier. The match begins with cheers from the crowd, but it ends almost as quickly. Valtraid, who appeares somewhat sluggish and unimposing up until that moment, suddenly transforms. It is as if a dormant power within him awakens. His muscles seem to swell, his stature broadens, and his grip tightens with an intensity that his opponent and everyone else takes by surprise. The match, which many had expected to be a quick victory for Garl, shifts dramatically. Despite his determination, Garl was no match for Valtraid, who wins the arm-wrestling match with ease. The crowd erupts in cheers and applause, both for the dramatic turn of the match and for the pirates triumph.
After the crowd slowly disperses, the captain, a young woman with two brown ponytails and a bandana covering half of her face, gathers the Solstice Warriors closer to discuss their plan she has formulated. "In the north of Brisk, there’s an abandoned laboratory, untouched for centuries. It once belonged to an arcane wizard, a master of the dark arts who met an untimely death. Since then, no one has dared to breach its doors."
The captain leans in, lowering her voice as she continues, "Inside that lab lies a treasure not of gold or jewels, but of immense power—the Coin of Undeath Accord."
She explains that this coin is a powerful arcane token, capable of bending undead creatures to the will of its holder. "With this coin, we can control the ghost captain of the Vespertine. If we possess the coin, we can compel him to hand over his ship”
The Vespertine…Haru already heard about the tales of the cursed ship. It is the one of the first legends she heard when she came into this world.
“A bit of magic should do the trick to open the lab. Keenathan?” The captain glances at one of her comrades.
The young man, whose name is Keenathan, replies enthusiastically: “I shall open the entrance to the abandoned wizard lab, or my name is not Keenathan!” Haru's gaze lingers on the young man, who has an unusual appearance. Over his eyes, he wears not one, but two eye patches. In his right hand, he holds a staff with an upside-down red octopus at the top end. The staff seems alive, a subtle current of wind magic swirling around it. This detail does not escape Haru's observant eye; it is clear that this pirate wields wind magic.
Haru knows that the wind magic this pirate controls was distinct from that mastered by the Ovates. Ovates were known for their deep and profound control over forces of nature. Their magic was complex and an intimate connection to the natural world, allowing them to manipulate elements with a precision and scale far beyond an average human could comprehend. In contrast, the magic used by humans, including this pirate, is more rudimentary, like a simplified form.
The pirates’ plan is clear: They want the Solstice Warriors to infiltrate the wizard’s lab and secure the Coin of Undeath Accord. After that, the pirates would take them to Wraith Island. After recognizing and evaluating the potential risks and rewards, the trio finally agrees to the proposal.
With that, the Solstice Warriors leave The Humble Boat with the pirates. Curiosity grips Haru as she replays the events of the tavern in her mind. She can't explain why, but the trio has made a lasting impression on her. If the Solstice Children are able to defeat the Dweller on Wraith Island, they certainly have the potential for more. After a short consideration, Haru decides to stay in this area for a while to keep an eye on their progress.
Notes:
Thank you for reading :)
Chapter 3: Wizard's Lab
Summary:
Here is the next chapter :)
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Present
She can't help it.
After the Solstice Warriors and pirates left the tavern, Haru finds herself fixated on the conversation the whole evening. Especially the lab of the old wizard in the north of Brisk keeps her wake.
The possibility of discovering ancient writings or relics ignites her curiosity. Sealed away for a long period of her life, she missed out on events that unfolded over the last millennia. These writings not only offer her intriguing insights of the past but also stir hope that she might discover remnants from her own era. Questions about the wizard are also swirling around in her head: What made the wizard so strong? When and how did he meet his end? Could this powerful wizard have been one of her own kind?
Driven by her persistent curiosity, Haru decides she has to explore the lab herself. The next day, she sets out for the north of Brisk. She secretly hopes that both the trio and the pirates have already abandoned the lab. After all, she has waited a whole day and can no longer contain her impatience. Her curiosity draws her irresistibly to the location.
From a distance, the sight that meets her eye is both imposing and intriguing - a massive stone dome marked with purple runes. It is unlike anything she has ever seen on her journey. Its design is not just architectural but also radiates a strong sense of ancient magic.
When she reaches the dome, she notices that the entrance has been forcibly opened, presumably by the pirates and the Solstice Warriors. A part of her is amused by the predictability of such brute force tactics. “So that was their plan... I could have guessed somehow,” she mutters under her breath, half-amused by their straightforward approach.
Stepping into the lab, Haru is immediately enveloped by darkness, so dense that it seems to swallow even the faint light from the entrance. Her initial steps are tentative; the complete blackness unnerves her, making her heart race as she fumbled forward. She waves her hands in front of her, trying to catch even the slightest hint of her surroundings, but there is nothing but the oppressive dark.
Despite the fear that begins to creep up on her, Haru presses on. Gradually, her eyes adjust to the darkness, or perhaps the darkness itself recedes subtly to reveal the lab's interior. The space around her feels surreal, as if it exists in a realm apart from the world she knows. Stones and slabs hover in the air along her path, their silent floating adding to the mystique of the place. The entire lab is infused with a strong magical essence, pulsating through the very air she breathes.
With each step deeper into the gloomy lab, she becomes more attuned to this strange environment. The darkness seems less like an absence of light and more like a veil, concealing layers of mystery that are hers to uncover.
On her path, blue magical lights begin to glow faintly, casting a soft glow that barely extended beyond her immediate surroundings. They provided just enough illumination for her to identify the way forward, painting the mysterious floating stones and slabs in surreal, ghostly hues.
As Haru delves deeper into the lab, the dimly lit path opens up into a larger chamber. In the distance, she could see glowing blue trees, each suspended above floating platforms, casting a serene light throughout the area. The path she follows leads directly into a large room, at the center a lone pedestal, possibly a focal point of ancient rituals or studies.
After a brief pause to take in her surroundings and consider her options, Haru decides to follow the path to the right. The path concludes at the entrance to a library.
"Jackpot!" she exclaims softly, her eyes widen with excitement as she steps inside. The library isn't particularly large, but it definitely is packed with knowledge, featuring several corridors lined with shelves brimming with books and scrolls. Eagerly, Haru begins to roam through the library. Each book and scroll hold the potential of ancient secrets and untold stories from times long past. She cannot wait to dive into the writings, to absorb the lore that has been hidden away in this mystical and secluded place. The promise of uncovering new knowledge and perhaps connections to her own civilization is thrilling, and she is ready to lose herself in the depths of the library's treasures.
Haru navigates through the library, her fingers tracing the spines of the bocks and scrolls that lines in the shelves. Each title seems to whisper tales of the world, inviting her to delve deeper into their secrets. As she moves from shelf to shelf, Haru recognizes the names of many writings and books, each carrying the weight of history. The familiarity of some titles brings a sense of connection to the past decades – myths and legends, sacred narratives that have been passed down through generations. Haru searches the area for a while, but finds no traces of her ancient civilization. Nevertheless, this does not diminish the interest in the books. After all, knowledge is still knowledge.
As Haru continues her exploration, she is captured by a particularly worn book.
“The Alchemical Arts…”, she murmurs softly. With a gentle touch, Haru opens the book. It is filled with information, detailing various alchemical processes and theories, various topics that sound very familiar to her. Millennia ago, she sometimes spent whole nights with her old friend, Resh’an, researching and discussing about different theories and possible methods.
She sighs. Haru doesn’t really want to think about him. Those memories of him are intertwined with times of pain and loss, reminders of a past that have forced her to change, to harden her heart and move on. Now, thousands of years later, Haru is a different being. The destruction of her civilization, her imprisonment and the recurring loss of loved ones have left deep scars, both visible and hidden within her soul.
Yet, despite her reluctance, she finds herself thinking about him. His image floats through her mind - his smile, the sound of his laughter, the way he ponders deeply over texts just like the one she now holds. He is a part of her history that she cannot simply erase or ignore. Each recollection is a reminder of what has been and what could never be again. Her heart aches with a mixture of fondness and sorrow. It is a reminder of her vulnerability, a part of her that she has tried to seal away, just as she had been sealed in crystal.
She doesn’t notice the soft footsteps approaching until a voice suddenly breaks through her deep thoughts.
“Ummm, excuse me, are you – “
Startled, Haru instinctively reacts. In one swift motion, she spins around, drawing her blade and pressing it lightly against the newcomer's neck.
He lets out a startled scream, his eyes wide with shock. "Whoa, whoa, I'm sorry!" he gasps, frozen in place.
Realizing her overreaction, Haru’s eyes widen in shock. It was the brown-haired boy from the trio – Garl. She quickly lowers her weapon, her expression shifting from alertness to embarrassment. “I’m so sorry,” she stammers, sheathing her blade. “You caught me off guard. I didn’t mean to—”
Garl takes a careful step back, his hand on his neck, feeling the place where the blade had been. Despite his initial fear, he manages a nervous smile. “No problem,” he says with a shaky laugh. “I guess I should have given you a heads up before approaching.”
Haru nods, her cheeks flush with a mix of adrenaline and embarrassment. “I was just... really absorbed, I guess… It’s been a long while since I had to be on guard like that. Old habits, I suppose.”
Garl’s expression softens, his initial shock fading into curiosity. “You looked really focused. What were you reading?” he asks gently, trying to ease the tension and spark a conversation.
Haru picks up the book she dropped in her surprise. “It’s about alchemy,” she explains, holding it out slightly towards him. “Ancient stuff, really. I was trying to find something about the powers of old, maybe even something that could help with... well, everything going on. But my search wasn’t successful so far.”
Garl’s interest is piqued, the earlier fright now being replaced by fascination. “Alchemy, huh? That sounds pretty complicated. I’m Garl, by the way.” He looks at Haru with a big smile on his face.
"My name’s Lyn," Haru says, with a steady voice but a cautious mind. To avoid attracting the wrong attention, she keeps her true identity hidden – specifically, for Aephorul's followers who might be lurking.
"Garl!" She suddenly hears the call echoing through the library. Moments later, Garl's two friends burst into the library, their expressions a mix of relief and worry. The blue-haired woman, her eyes darting between Garl and Haru, is the first to speak. “Oh my god, Garl, we heard your scream and thought something bad happened to you.”
Her gaze then shifts to Haru, her words laced with caution and concern: “Who are you and what are you doing here? You should leave, it is too dangerous in here,”
Garl, still chuckling from the earlier misunderstanding with Haru, waves off Valere’s concerns. “Oh, you don't need to worry about her, she already knows her way around,” he says with a laugh, “These are my two friends, Valere,” he points to the blue-haired girl, “…and Zale,” pointing to the blond boy, who gives Haru a puzzled look.
Zale looks at Garl and Haru, confusion etched on his face. After a moment, his expression shifts to one of shock, and he blurts out, “Oh my god, are you the owner of this lab?” His voice rises in panic. “We are so sorry for destroying your dome and intruding on your property!” He begins to gesticulate wildly, clearly nervous.
Haru blinks, taken aback by the sudden escalation. “W-What? No, umm...I was just looking for books and other stuff,” she tries to clarify, a bit confused but also slightly amused by the misunderstanding.
But Zale isn’t listening; he is already on his knees, pleading dramatically. “Please don’t kill us, great wizard.”
Valere rolls her eyes, visibly annoyed by Zale’s dramatics. “God...Zale, just stop it... Does she look like an old man?” she retorts sharply, gesturing towards Haru to underscore her point.
Zale glances from Valere to Haru, his face showing a mask of realization and embarrassment. He remains silent, absorbing the reality of the situation.
Valere shakes her head and smiles sheepishly, a slight blush coloring her cheeks as she turns to Haru. “I need to apologize… He is sometimes embarrassing...and a bit dumb…”
“I am what???” Zale’s voice rises in indignation, sparking an argument between him and Valere.
Meanwhile, Garl turns back to Haru with a sheepish grin on his face. “I'm sorry, sometimes they are like that,” he says, scratching the back of his head, slightly embarrassed by his friends’ antics. Haru can’t help but chuckle at the unfolding drama, the tension of the past minutes dissolving into amusement at the quirky dynamics of this group.
The warmth of camaraderie she feels with Garl, Valere, and Zale brings a nostalgic ache for her old friends, Ellan and Laria. The brief, heartening memory of her fallen friends lingers in her smile. The nostalgia is bittersweet.
Just then, Garl turns to Valere and Zale, who are still snapping at each other “Hey, did you two figure out how to get over the gap?” he interjects, hoping to redirect their focus. Both stop and turn towards Garl, their annoyance with each other temporarily forgotten. They shake their heads in unison. “No, we haven’t figured it out yet,” Valere admits, her tone sounds frustrated.
Zale adds, “Yeah, it’s like a chasm. We can’t find a way across without... well, falling into the darkness… a really, really dark darkness.”
Haru listens with a thoughtful expression. She hesitates. Her past losses haunts her, making the idea of collaboration feel daunting. Yet, the mention of a challenge piques her interest, pulling at the strings of her innate curiosity and desire to help.
“What gap are you talking about?” Haru finally asks, giving in to the curiosity.
“There’s a huge gap in the path ahead. We need to get over to reach the other side, we can’t find a way around or across it,” Garl explains.
“Could you show me?” Haru finds herself asking, surprising even herself regarding her willingness to get involved.
Garl smiles broadly “Sure! Follow us.” They navigate through the lab’s passages. After a few turns and a short walk, they reach the problematic section. The path before them is indeed broken into a chasm, its other side shrouded in darkness and just out of reach.
Garl points down into the abyss. “See? It’s too wide to jump, and there’s nothing to hold onto.”
Haru peers into the darkness, her mind racing with potential solutions. “Have you tried using magic to create a path?” she asks, looking back at the group.
Valere sighs, “We thought about it, but none of us are skilled in the kind of magic that could do that.”
Haru considers the situation carefully. While she possesses profound mastery over wind magic—a heritage of her Ovate lineage—she is wary of revealing the full extent of her capabilities. The powers she can wield are far beyond the ordinary, potentially exposing her true identity - something she cannot share.
Instead, she eyes the stone slabs floating gently around the path. “Maybe there’s another way to help without using obvious magic," she mutters to herself, looking concentrated.
“What do you have in mind?” he asks curiously, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space.
Haru steps closer to the edge of the gap, her gaze fixed on the floating stones. She stretches out her hands subtly, palms down, and focuses on the air currents around her. With a delicate hand motion, she begins to coax the stones, using her wind magic so gently that it seems as if the slabs are merely drifting into a new position by some unseen natural force rather than her intervention.
“Just watch,” Haru says, keeping her tone casual. One by one, the slabs began to move, slowly aligning to form a makeshift bridge across the chasm. To the untrained eye, it appeared as if the stones were floating into place coincidentally, perhaps due to some residual magic inherent to the place.
Zale watches in awe. "How is this happening?" he whispers with his eyes wide open.
Haru shrugs, feigning ignorance. "This place is old and full of latent magic. Maybe it's responding to our need. I was just thinking about crossing that path and then the slabs began to move." Her explanation, vague yet plausible, seems to satisfy their curiosity without revealing too much.
As the last slab settles into place, creating a stable path across the gap, Haru steps back, allowing Garl and the others to test the integrity of their new bridge.
Garl ventures across first, followed cautiously by Valere and Zale. As they reach the other side safely, they turn back to Haru with expressions of gratitude and newfound respect.
"Wow, that was incredible," Garl exclaims, his voice is echoing slightly. "Thank you, Lyn," He shouts at her, using the name Haru has given them. "Whatever you did, it worked!"
Valere, who was always more cautious, now nods in appreciation, her earlier stern demeanour softens because of Haru's assistance.
Zale, being ever the enthusiast, is the most expressive. "You're like a bridge wizard! Are you sure you don't want to come with us? We could really use someone like you."
Haru smiles gently hearing their offer, touched by their trust and camaraderie. Yet, she knows her path lies elsewhere. "I really appreciate the invitation," she replies, in a warm yet resolute tone. "But I have other matters to attend to, and I think you'll manage just fine without me." She knows she is lying to them and to herself at that moment, but Haru has her reasons. She doesn’t want to stick around for too long with the same people, especially when they are so kind-hearted and open.
The trio looks disappointed but nods in understanding. "Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find us," Garl says with a hopeful voice.
"Yeah, just follow the path of the miraculous stone bridge!" Zale jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
They share a brief laugh, and Haru feels a twinge of fondness for the spirited group. "Take care of yourselves," she says sincerely, while her eyes are sweeping over each of them.
"We will. Thanks again, Lyn!" Valere says, and with one last wave, the trio turns and continues on their adventure, their shapes are slowly swallowed up by the darkness, leaving Haru alone with her thoughts.
Haru sighs, a small smile playing on her lips. She managed to help without compromising her secrets, her true identity sti+ll safely hidden behind her modest display of control. This small act of assistance, however minimal it might have seemed to her companions, reaffirms her commitment to aiding others while protecting her deeper past.
It is time for her to leave the lab. The day’s events have been unexpected and strangely uplifting, but she feels the pull of solitude and the need to process everything that has happened.
She has ventured into the lab seeking answers, but found a brief companionship that reminded her of times decades ago. A sincere smile finds its way to her lips—a genuine expression that Haru hasn't felt in a long while. The memories of her two friends now bring a warmth that spreads through her. They had shared real adventures, ones filled with laughter, challenges, and mutual support. Remembering them now, in the context of helping others again, make the memories less about loss and more about the beautiful moments they had created together.
Haru slowly makes her way out of the lab. On the way, she decides to pick up a few books and scripts from the lab's library that piqued her interest. As Haru heads back to Brisk, she uses the small and tranquil moment for herself, thinking of her old friends and their shared adventures.
Notes:
Thank you for reading :)
Chapter 4: Rescue
Notes:
Hello again :)
Here is my next chapter. It took me a bit longer this time, because I wanted to finish the flashback in one chapter. But then I realized that it was a bit too long, so I split it into two parts. >.>
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Decades ago…
Haru opened her eyes slowly, her eyelids felt as heavy as lead when they parted reluctantly. The sight revealed a blurred world bathed in soft light. Confusion and fear knotted in her stomach as she tried to make sense of her surroundings and the voices she could hear.
„Do you think she will ever wake up? … What do we do now? We should get help," a male voice pierced the haze of her mind, tinged with worry.
"We are in the middle of nowhere in a new world, we need to find a town first. But who knows how long it will take. One of us should stay here with her," a female voice responded, in a practical yet gentle manner.
Haru's pulse quickened. The unfamiliarity of the voices, the mention of a new world, stirred a primal fear within her. Her body tensed, memories of the previous events and the cold embrace of the crystal searing through her mind. Her instinct screamed that these strangers were just another threat, perhaps minions sent by Aephorul to recapture her.
As Haru struggled to sit up, a soothing voice cut through her panic. A woman approached her and tried to calm her down.
"It is okay, we are not going to harm you. You need to rest, your condition was really critical," the woman said, approaching slowly with hands raised in a gesture of peace.
Haru's eyes darted around, taking in the foreign environment and the two figures before her. Her body was tense as panic rushed through her veins. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. "W-where are we? We-we need to leave, he is going to find us i-if we are not hiding," she stammered, the words tumbling out in a rush of anxiety. Her voice was hoarse and not used to speaking.
The young man was trying to reassure her, his tone firm yet kind: „There is no need to be scared anymore. We took you to a safe place. Whatever was chasing you, it cannot find us here,"
Gradually, the panic dulled as Haru allowed herself to really look at her saviors. The young woman, had long white hair pulled back into a high ponytail, her expression was concerned but friendly. Beside her, the young man, with short dark blue hair, wore a look of earnest sincerity. Their clothing, rugged and practical, seemed to be designed for adventure, not aggression.
Haru was still on the edge but she was now calmer than before. Her voice was shaky but filled with a desperate need for answers: „"Who are you… a-and where am I?“
"My name is Ellan," the blue-haired young man introduced himself, gesturing towards the woman with a soft smile. „And this is Laria … and we are actually not really sure where we are. After we found you in the forest, we opened a portal to another world," he explained, scratching the back of his head in a somewhat embarrassed manner.
Haru’s eyes are filled with confusion and concern. „Another w-world…? What do you mean?“ Haru was looking around. „Where am I..?“
The two exchanged a glance, their uncertainty clear. "My friend Ellan is able to open portals between different worlds… a power he derives from the moon.“
She stopped for a moment to see Haru’s reaction, but she remained silent. Laria continued „We found you in a world that was shadowed by the Fleshmancer’s influence. You were lying knocked out in a forest and we quickly realized that the creations of him were after you. So, we decided it was best to leave as quickly as possible," Laria explained, her voice soft.
Haru needed a moment to understand the events that had unfolded before she asked her next questions.
„Who is the Fleshmancer?“
The two looked at her for a moment, stunned.
Laria was the first to speak again. "You don‘t know who the Fleshmancer is?" her tone was a mix of disbelief and concern.
"No," Haru replied, her confusion deepening at their shocked expressions.
Ellan and Laria exchanged a glance, their expressions a mixture of surprise and concern. It was clear they hadn’t expected Haru to be unaware of the identity of their greatest enemy.
"The Fleshmancer," Ellan began slowly, choosing his words with care, "There is a legend about him…" he took a moment to clear his throat "…Millennia ago, two powerful alchemists created the elixir of life and succeeded. They spent centuries nurturing the world and creating wonders. But one of the alchemists went crazy, feeling envy and hatred towards us mortals. He turned against humanity and began using his alchemy to create monstrosities of flesh, blood and bone. It was forbidden alchemy, too powerful and consuming for life and nature. He has destroyed many worlds and is the cause for the downfall of many civilizations.“
Haru's heart sank as the pieces fell into place. Aephorul, the man she once knew, was now the Fleshmancer - a figure of terror. His betrayal had not only led to the genocide of her people and her imprisonment but it had also reshaped the world into one of darkness and fear. Her breath became short and her hands began to tremble as she recalled the past events.
"He’s feared across many worlds," Laria added, her voice was gentle, trying not to overwhelm Haru further. "His creations—terrors wrought from forbidden alchemy—hunt and haunt, spreading his influence.“
Haru felt a chill run down her spine. Aephorul, once driven by curiosity and ambition, had become something utterly unrecognizable. She knew herself that she was also to blame for his transformation. Guilt pierced her like a dagger. Her past experiences with him, coupled with this revelation, let her last defences crumble.
Haru’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a sob, her breath catching in sharp gasps. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, each one echoing her profound grief and shock. Panic gripped her as the full weight of Aephorul’s betrayal settled in. She trembled uncontrollably, her breaths were quick and shallow.
Observing her distress, Laria and Ellan remained by her side in silent support - unsure what else to do in this situation. They gave her the space she needed, a quiet reassurance in the midst of her turmoil.
Haru‘s body still trembled, and her breath remained fast and shaky. She wiped away her tears, her voice barely audible. "I... I can't believe he’s done all this," she whispered, her voice quivering. "Aephorul... He took so much from me…and now, he’s this Fleshmancer?" His new title felt foreign on her tongue, a stark and harrowing label for someone she had once known so closely.
Silence. Haru’s words hung heavily in the air, revealing a connection to the Fleshmancer that Laria and Ellan had not anticipated.
"You know him?" Laria asked, her eyes wide with shock. "But that was thousands of years ago. How can that happen?"
Haru's face was a mask of sorrow and guild, etched with the deep scars of betrayal and time. She opened her mouth to respond, her mind racing through centuries of memories, but found herself too overwhelmed to say anything.
Ellan finally stepped in, his voice gentle. "We should not overwhelm her too much," he cautioned Laria, then turned his attention back to Haru, placing a comforting hand on Haru's shoulder to calm her down. She winced at his touch, but then settled down when she realised that it was only to reassure her. "It's okay, you don’t have to explain everything right now. It's clear you've been through a lot … We will leave you alone for a bit.“ The mere thought of being alone again was enough to momentarily spike Haru's anxiety. As he stood up, he could see the fear of being abandoned again in her eyes.
"You don't need to be afraid. We won't leave you completely alone," Ellan assured her, a warm smile on his face, trying to ease her fears. "You'll find us outside," he added, signalling that they were close enough should she need them.
Haru‘s throat tightened as she whispered a fragile "Thank you,", her voice tinged with a deep loneliness that had not yet begun to heal.
She watched as they left the hut, a simple structure that had become a temporary refuge in a world unknown to her. She lay down, her body heavy with exhaustion. As the silence enveloped her, she began to cry bitterly.
Tears streamed down her face as memories of Aephorul‘s betrayal and her loss consumed her. He had taken everything she had known and loved. Her family, her friends and possibly even Resh’an, whose fate remained uncertain, were all stolen from her by his descent into madness. The pain of these losses clutched at her heart with relentless, crushing pressure.
She was alone, utterly alone except for Ellan and Laria, who, despite their kindness, were still strangers. Wrapped in grief, Haru cried until her tears were spent and her body was tired out. She drifted into an exhausted sleep, her chest rising and falling with each shuddering breath. Her mind replayed the fragments of her past, a cruel reminder of everything she had endured and lost.
After a while, Haru woke up. For a brief, disorienting moment, she lay still and panicked, half-expecting to find herself back within the suffocating confines of the crystal. But as her eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the hut, reality settled around her - she was free, not trapped in that eternal prison.
With a deep, steadying breath, she rose and made her way outside, where the sharp evening air brushed against her skin. It was almost dark, the sky painted with the deep hues of twilight – a sight she hadn’t seen for millennia. As Haru looked around, her gaze fell upon Laria and Ellan seated by a campfire, the gentle crackling gave her a comforting feeling.
"Oh, you're finally awake? Why don't you join us? We have food for you too. You should eat," Ellan called out with a friendly wave, a plate of food already waiting beside him
Haru could feel herself suddenly becoming hungry. She honestly can't remember the last time she ate. Grateful for the invitation, she took a seat by the fire, the warmth soothing her chilled skin. She accepted the plate of food they offered, the simple act of eating together with others was strange yet comforting after her long isolation.
When the meal concluded and they sipped their tea in the soft glow of the campfire, the quiet moment felt ripe for gratitude. Haru set down her cup, her voice soft but firm as she broke the silence. "Thank you for saving me. Without you, I would probably be back in his clutches right now." She paused, the thought of being recaptured sending a shiver down her spine. "And I honestly don't want to imagine that."
Ellan and Laria exchanged a glance, then smiled at her. "It was a matter of course for us," Ellan responded, his tone sincere. "Helping those in need, fighting against darkness—it’s what we do.“
Haru nodded in appreciation. “I haven't even introduced myself yet. I am Haru” she said with a gentle voice. The both of them were smiling at her.
"It’s really nice to meet you, Haru," Ellan says warmly, while Laria nodded in agreement.
She pondered her next words carefully. The millennia of silence and isolation still gnawed at her, making it difficult to articulate her thoughts.
"You mentioned you found me in a world under the Fleshmancer's influence. It must have been quite dangerous to travel there - not a journey for the average traveller," she paused, gathering her courage to inquire further. "May I ask what brought you to such a place?"
Laria exchanged a look with Ellan, silently communicating, before they turned back to Haru. "We were scouting the surrounding area to determine the extent of the Fleshmancer’s influence in that world," she explained. “This is what we do as Solstice Warriors—to keep the evil at bay.”
“Solstice Warriors?” Haru asks, her voice tinged with curiosity.
Ellan nodded, taking over the explanation. "Yes, we are Solstice Warriors, trained from birth to combat the threats from Aephorul's creations using Solar and Lunar magic—these are the only known weaknesses of the flesh minions." His expression was serious, reflecting the gravity of their mission.
Laria continued, "Our goal is to save the worlds from destruction. Wherever the Fleshmancer spreads his darkness, we seek to push it back and protect the innocent lives caught in his path. We found you while trying to understand his reach of influence.”
Haru listened intently, absorbing every word. The scope of their dedication was immense, and she felt a deep respect for the path they had chosen. It was a life of constant risk and sacrifice, driven by a commitment to something greater than themselves.
After they had rescued her and had given her such essential information, Haru felt it was time to share more about Aephorul and her connection to him. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself before continuing.
„I think it might be useful for you to tell you more about him and our connection…” Haru cleared her throat. “I knew Aephorul for a long time, long before he became what he is now. Aephorul and I, we were really close….” She paused for a moment.
According to the circumstances, perhaps she should not reveal everything, as she wasn't really willing to tell them about her love triangle. It was still a very sensitive topic for her. Instead, she decided to mention only the important aspects. “He was a very close friend to me and our other friend. The three of us explored the mysteries of life together for a long time, until... until he changed.“ She swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in her throat "I-I was there when the darkness began to take hold of him. It started long after he took the elixir of immortality. He grew obsessed, gradually detaching from the humanity he once cherished. Eventually, his mind twisted into what everyone now fears as the Fleshmancer."
Ellan hesitated, biting his lip as he formulated his next question "May I ask you something?“ Haru nodded for him to continue „How did you survive all this time? I mean, it's been thousands of years and you're still alive."
Haru sighed "It’s not easy to explain," she began, her voice low. "When Aephorul went mad, he destroyed all life around him, and imprisoned me within a crystal for millennia.“ She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts before continuing. „The crystal, it wasn’t just a prison. It was a form of stasis. Time... it didn’t pass for me as it does for others. Occasionally, I was half-conscious, but I remained unable to move, speak, or age." She intentionally left out the part that her roots granted her an extraordinarily long lifespan. Yet, it was probably also true that she had not aged within the crystal over the millennia.
Laria’s eyes softened, empathy replacing her earlier surprise. "What you’ve endured... it’s unimaginable. But now you’re here with us…” she pauses for a moment, “When we found you, we knew that helping you was part of this larger fight. You’re not just a survivor; you’re a key ally in this battle…“ Laria and Ellan exchanged a look of quiet determination. “We would like to take you with us, this way we can protect you… and together, maybe we can find a way to finally end this.”
Haru met Laria‘s gaze, a gentle warmth began to spread through her, a stark contrast to the cold isolation she had endured for so long. She was deeply grateful to these two strangers - not just for rescuing her, but for acknowledging her pain and offering her a path forward. „Thank you… I will do my best to support you on your journey.“ Haru says in a soft voice.
As they sat around the campfire, the warmth of the flames and the company reassured Haru that she was no longer alone. Though grateful for the protection offered by Ellan and Laria, she felt a pang of vulnerability due to her weakened state from years of confinement.
Noticing a katana next to Laria, an idea sparked within Haru. She clears her throat. " I need to get stronger and regain my strength.” Ellan and Laria observed her and nodded. Haru felt a twinge of discomfort as they examined her appearance. She went on with her idea to shake off feelings of worthlessness. “As you can see…my body is pretty fragile after being locked up for so long… Would you teach me how to fight with weapons?" Haru asked, her voice firm with resolve.
Haru had never wielded a melee weapon before, her abilities had always centered around harnessing natural elements, rather than relying on physical strength. But now, feeling the need to defend herself and contribute more actively, she was ready to learn. This was a new chapter for her, one focused not just on recovering from her past but on gaining strength and resilience.
Notes:
Thanks for reading! :) I'll upload the third and final part of this storyline in the next days.
Chapter 5: Memories
Notes:
Hello again, I hope you had a nice week. Here is the second part of the flashback. :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Decades ago…
As they travelled through various worlds, each more distinct and intriguing than the last, Haru absorbed every piece of knowledge that Ellan and Laria shared with her...
With the help of her new companions, Haru managed to collect more information about the different worlds as Ellan explained the complexities of their travels:
"This isn’t just about moving through space but through different realities entirely," Ellan said, his voice filled with enthusiasm as he gestured to the expansive view of towering mountains and deep valleys around them. The mountains seemed a perfect metaphor for the vast and varied realities they navigated—each peak a different world, each valley a shift in reality.
Haru listened intently and then shared her perspective. "Thousands of years ago, there was only one world, at least to my knowledge," she explained. "So all of this," she gestured broadly at the sweeping landscape, "is just so fascinating. Every world feels so different and yet so similar"
“If it's true that there was only one world in the past, then I'd like to learn more about what led to the origin of these different worlds.” Ellan responded enthusiastically, turning to Haru with genuine curiosity. His interest in the origins of the multiverse mirrored Haru's own desire to understand the new rules that governed these countless worlds.
Haru also learned more about Laria's and Ellan's backgrounds:
As the evening settled after a long journey through a sodden and murky swamp, the three found themselves in the bustling atmosphere of a tavern at the edge of the marshland. Haru, eager to understand more about her companions and their background, prompted them, "So, tell me more about you. It sounds like you both had quite extraordinary lives as a Solstice Warrior." She heard a lot about the Solstice Warriors on their journey and saw Laria and Ellan in a fight using their solar and lunar magic, but she couldn't quite put her finger on exactly where they come from.
Ellan smiled, eager to tell her more about their background. "We do, in a way. We are Solstice Warriors because we were born during a solstice—Laria during the summer solstice, which gives her the power of solar magic, and myself during the winter solstice, granting me lunar magic.”
Laria took up the narrative with a proud tilt of her head. "Our powers are complementary, which is why we travel together. It’s the tradition among Solstice Warriors to pair up like this. Our training started young, at the Zenith Academy, where we learned to harness our magic and prepare for the battles against The Fleshmancer's creations."
Haru listened intently, sipping her drink as she absorbed every detail. "And these battles," she inquired, "how do they happen?"
Ellan leaned forward, his voice lowering to match the seriousness of his words. "Mostly, we’re deployed during solar eclipses. It’s the only time we can face and potentially defeat Dwellers, the strongest of The Fleshmancer’s creations. They are only vulnerable during the eclipse.”
Laria nodded, adding, "It's a crucial time. Traditionally, all Solstice Warriors from a world gather at each eclipse to defeat a Dweller. If we are not able to kill them, they might become a Worldeater that destroys the whole world.”
Haru felt a mixture of awe and sadness as she listened. The life of a Solstice Warrior was one of duty and constant movement. "It’s a noble path you’ve chosen. I have great respect for you and your sacrifices," she said genuinely. "I can only imagine the weight it carries."
Laria smiled warmly at Haru, appreciating her understanding. "It’s heavy at times, but knowing we’re making a difference, that we’re keeping worlds safe—it makes it worthwhile. And now, with you with us, we hope to share some of that burden."
As time passed, Haru gradually opened up to her two friends, sharing more about her origins and revealing that she is an Ovate with the wind aspect.
Ovates are sometimes blessed with an aspect that defines one of their main elements: wind, water, fire, or earth, granting them the ability to control that element. More talented or powerful Ovates can even master more than one element, enabling them to combine different ones together.Historically, Ovates who were blessed with an elemental aspect usually took on the role of protectors, safeguarding the people and the weak.
Haru resolved to support her friends with everything she could, but she wasn’t able to use her wind magic freely. The way she used her magic could attract too much attention from the wrong people. All three agreed to use it only in an extreme situation.
Months after their conversation about the Solstice Warriors, Haru was invited to participate in the upcoming Summer Solstice to experience the traditions of their village firsthand:
The summer solstice was a radiant affair in the village, a lively blend of music, dance, and abundant feasts that seemed to pulse with the heartbeat of the community. Haru, amidst the joy, found herself smiling genuinely for the first time in what felt like ages. The air was thick with the aroma of roasted meats and fresh fruits, and laughter echoed around her, a sound as warming as the sun overhead.
Haru watched as Ellan and Laria joined the villagers in a traditional dance, their movements fluid and synchronized with the rhythm. Seeing them so carefree and immersed in the celebration brought a genuine smile to her face. It was a rare moment of respite from their usual responsibilities and the weight of their mission.
After months of travel and training, Haru had grown stronger, both physically and mentally. The journey had not only taught her about the new and complex realities of the worlds they visited but had also helped her regain much of her former resilience. Observing Ellan and Laria now, she felt a surge of gratitude for their guidance and companionship. They had become more than just her protectors; they were her friends, her new family.
As the duo laughed, spinning and stepping in time with the music, Haru felt a lightness in her own spirit. She was happy to see them able to let go, to enjoy the moment without the shadow of impending threats. It was a reminder that amidst their daunting tasks, there was still room for joy, for moments of simple human connection and celebration. She was lucky that their world had not yet been cursed by Aephorul. It was only through Ellan's portals that they were able to travel to other worlds and experience the horrors of the Fleshmancer.
As the festivities reached their peak, a child's excited shout cut through the noise. "There he is! The Great Eagle is coming!" The crowd's laughter and chatter hushed almost instantly as everyone turned to look toward the sky.
Haru followed their gazes and her breath caught in her throat. Soaring through the air, with wings that painted shadows across the ground, was a magnificent eagle with vermilion and deep purple feathers. Its grandeur was unmistakable and painfully familiar.
"The Great Eagle..." she whispered under her breath, her heart pounding as a mixture of hope and fear surged through her. The children, oblivious to her turmoil, ran ahead to the designated pick-up site for the Children of the Solstice under a magnificent, glowing willow.
Haru stood, her legs shaky, as she watched the eagle gently place a small child into the bed of hay. An instinctive pull drew her forward. "Resh'an?" she called out tentatively, her voice nearly lost in the murmur of the crowd. The eagle, after ensuring the child was safe, took to the skies once again.
Ignoring the stares from those around her, Haru broke into a run, trying to follow the eagle's path. "Resh'an!" she called again, desperation edging her voice, but the eagle did not waver in its flight. Reaching the edge of a cliff, Haru could only watch as it disappeared into the distance. With tears in her eyes she stood there, the weight of disappointment heavy in her chest.
Later, as Haru asked Ellan and Laria about the ceremony, they explained that in every world, a Great Eagle appeared during the solstice to deliver a new child. The realization dawned on Haru that this eagle was likely not Resh'an, or not the Resh'an she knew. It was a tradition, a symbol celebrated across the realms, and the true whereabouts of him remained as elusive as ever. The potential connection to the Children of the Solstice was the only evidence she had for now.
The brief spark of hope that she might have found Resh'an, her long-lost friend and unspoken love, had flared brightly for a moment. But as the eagle disappeared, so too did that flicker of hope. It was quickly replaced by a familiar ache, feeling the full weight of her separation from him.
Her heart was filled with grief and guilt. Resh'an had been more than a friend; he had been the one who understood her the most and the one she secretly loved, a fact she had never had the courage to reveal. So it's no wonder that he slipped away from her. The consequences of this led her to make serious mistakes that still haunt her to this day, the guilt and the betrayal of her own feelings were still gnawing at her relentlessly. After everything that had happened, she just wanted to know if he still existed, or if Aephorul had already killed him.
The possibility that he might have been within reach, only to vanish once more, tore at her already fragile emotions. The realization that this eagle was not Resh'an, but merely a symbol recurring across the worlds, was a reminder of the vastness of the universe and the small, almost infinitesimal chance of their paths crossing again. Now, with each passing moment, she felt that unsaid love slipping further away, dissolving in the wind.
Over the months, a deep bond of friendship and familiarity developed between Haru and the two Solstice Warriors. She could still feel the jagged edges of her brokenness within, the scars of a thousand years of grief, solitude and silence. Yet, as she travelled along with Ellan and Laria, she felt those sharp edges begin to dull. The weight of her past, while not diminished, became more bearable with their presence. Through Laria and Ellan, Haru learned to live again. They didn’t just offer her safety; they offered her a sense of belonging, a feeling she thought had been lost to her forever. But it didn’t last long. Aephorul’s creations were still lurking in the dark, biding their time until the right moment to strike.
Months later, the time had finally come for the trio to confront the next Dweller during the upcoming solar eclipse. As Laria, Ellan and Haru approached the location where the Dweller was rumored to be hiding, their senses were alerted for any sign of the formidable creature. She kept her hand vigilantly on the handle of the katana that Laria had given her. The surrounded forest was sinister and quiet, too quiet. Although Haru was now stronger and more adept at handling the threats of different worlds, she had never seen a Dweller in person. They were formidable and she wasn’t able to damage them. She only could support her companions. The anticipation of the encounter had her nerves on edge.
But she understood her part clearly. As the Dweller emerged—a monstrous creature of shadows and glowing eyes—she channeled her magic, calling upon the wind. With precise gestures, she conjured gusts that not only disrupted the Dweller’s movements but also invigorated Ellan and Laria, enhancing their speed and agility. This support allowed them to weave around the monstrosity with enhanced quickness, delivering powerful blows while avoiding its strikes.
Just as they began to coordinate their attacks effectively, an unexpected threat emerged. "Look out!" Laria shouted as they were suddenly ambushed by a swarm of the Fleshmancer's creations. The shock of the ambush sent them reeling, but they quickly regrouped. As they fought, the overwhelming number of enemies made it clear that this was no ordinary attack.
"They are after Haru," Ellan realized aloud, parrying an attack from one of the creatures. "Aephorul wants to get her back—that's why there are so many! He must have noticed she is here when we engaged the Dweller!"
The revelation hit Haru hard, but there was no time to consider the implications. The situation was chaotic as they were forced to engage on two fronts: battling the Dweller and fending off the encroaching horde.
Haru intensified her efforts, focusing her wind magic now to create a storm barrier that slowed their new enemies, giving Ellan and Laria crucial moments to regroup and defend. The ground began to shake, and the surrounding forest suffered from the raging storm. Their battle against the Dweller and The Fleshmancer's creations continued relentlessly. Just as they seemed to be gaining the upper hand, an eerie silence fell over the battlefield. The creatures halted abruptly, frozen in place as if paused by an unseen hand.
"Wh-what‘s going on?" Laria shouted, her eyes wide as she scanned the scene, trying to understand what happened. But before anyone could answer, the air in front of them suddenly rippled and a dark portal opened. Through it stepped Aephorul, his presence as chilling as the void from which he emerged. His body was shrouded in a dark robe and a violet hood, Fleshy tentacles emerging from his body. His eyes locked on Haru, a sinister smile playing across his lips. “I have finally found you.”
Everyone stood rooted to the spot. Haru's breathing increased and her pulse quickened, her body began to tremble at the sight of his old friend, the friend who betrayed her, who killed everyone she loved and cared for.
"I've been looking everywhere for you. Now you can finally come back." Aephorul reached out for her.
Haru stood there, strained, as the wind began to swirl around her. The tension in the air was palpable. "Never…I will never take another step towards you again." She snapped at him furiously.
Aephorul's smile faded into a scowl "Don’t argue with me… Come back to me, Haru, or they will pay the price for your defiance," he threatened, his voice cold and commanding.
Ellan and Laria positioned themselves between her and Aephorul, ready to protect her at all costs. “We will never leave her to you, monster. Over our dead body” Ellan shouts.
Without another word, Aephorul attacked. The battle that ensued was desperate and fierce. Right from the start, it was evident that the Fleshmancer was much stronger than them. Nevertheless, the trio refused to give up. Haru used all her strength to disrupt Aephorul's advances with her wind magic, while Laria and Ellan countered with their solar and lunar power. However, he was immensely powerful, his flesh magic dark and twisted.
Aephorul laughed darkly, "…so desperate to protect, and yet so weak" He was treating the situation as if it were merely a game to him. Suddenly, his tentacle slashed the side of Ellan’s torso, wounding him badly. Ellan collapsed, his strength ebbing as he lay bleeding on the forest floor.
“Ellan!” Laria screamed, her eyes wide with shock and fear. But there was no time to dwell on the horror, no moment to comfort; she had to protect Haru, who was now the main target of Aephorul’s relentless minions.
Haru, witnessing Ellan’s fall, felt a surge of panic. As Aephorul’s minions began to circle her, towards the periphery of the fight, she summoned a massive storm in a desperate attempt to regain control. The air swirled violently around her, winds howling as she unleashed her elemental fury, pushing the creatures aside and clearing space around her friends.
Meanwhile, Laria and Ellan shared a glance, a silent exchange heavy with unspoken words and gloomy acceptance. They both understood the gravity of their situation - Their lives were not the priority; Haru’s safety was. Ellan, despite the searing pain and the weakness from his wound, nodded solemnly at Laria.
"Haru, you must go!" Laria shouted, her voice strained as she parried another lethal strike from Aephorul.
But Haru’s attention was fixed on Ellan, who began secretly to conjure a portal by moving with his trembling, bloodied hand through the familiar gestures. "No, we can leave together!" she cried out, her voice was desperate, as she moved toward them. “Please don’t do this.”
"Enough with these games. Don't think that any of you can escape!”, Aephorul snarled.
A sharp, horrifying scream shattered the moment as Laria was suddenly impaled by a dark, writhing tentacle. "Laria!” Haru cried out, her voice and heart breaking as she dashed towards her friend, reaching out in a futile attempt to help.
But it was too late. As Haru extended her hand, Ellan gathered his last reserves of strength to get up and push her towards the flickering portal that had sprung into existence beside her. The last sight that burned into Haru’s eyes before the portal enveloped her was the image of Aephorul's cruel tentacles piercing both Laria and Ellan, their expressions one of agony.
With a whoosh of displaced air, Haru found herself tumbling out of the portal onto unfamiliar ground. She scrambled to her feet, her first instinct to turn and dive back through. But the portal had already snapped shut, leaving her alone in a new world.
“No… this can’t be. This isn’t real…” she whispered with a trembling voice, tears streaming down her face.
Haru's knees hit the soft earth with a dull thud, her gaze was empty as she stared into the nothingness that enveloped her in this strange environment. Ellan and Laria had sacrificed everything for her, so that she could move on. They gave up their lives for her, ensuring that she wouldn’t fall back into his clutches. And Aephorul was still amused by their desperate attempts to fight back, treating them as if they were nothing more than pathetic insects. And all because she wasn’t strong enough and couldn’t protect them. The guilt and grief she felt at this moment was unbearable.
Silence hung heavy around her, a stark contrast to the chaos and noise of just moments ago. Now, she was utterly alone again. The thought echoed painfully in her mind. Ellan and Laria, the only people who had managed to piece back some fragments of her shattered soul, were gone - likely forever. Aephorul took them away from her.
She sat there, motionless, as time slipped by unmarked. Her eyes were fixed on the dark void before her, but she saw nothing, felt nothing but a deep, numbing void spreading through her limbs. Inside her head, however, was a different story. Thoughts screamed, a tumultuous storm of anger, guilt and piercing sorrow.
Why?
Why must everyone she cares about vanish? After everything she had to endure, Haru finally allowed herself to feel, to form connections again. Why did Aephorul have to rip that away from her?
Was she being punished by him? Did he intend for her to suffer indefinitely? Did she presume too much, expecting happiness, daring to enjoy moments of peace and companionship? Should she pay for her incompetence to protect her family and friends when they needed it most? Or, could he still not bear the thought that she had rejected him, left him utterly alone all those millennia ago?
No matter his reasons, it was still her fault. If it hadn't been for her, they wouldn't have had to die. They would still be alive, likely having defeated the Dweller without her. They were strong, exceptionally strong, yet Aephorul was much stronger. Nothing is likely to change. He will continue to pursue her, and all those who risk their lives for her will suffer.
Haru slowly realized that maybe it would be better if she stayed alone with her new destined fate. No one else would have to suffer for her, no one else would have to die. The logic was cold, but it offered a brutal kind of comfort. Isolation would be her shield from Aephorul, her way of protecting any potential future friends from the fate that seemed to follow her like a curse.
As she processed these thoughts, Haru felt her determination harden into something new—a colder, harder resolve to withdraw, to protect others from the destructive orbit of her life. She wouldn’t just give up. She would continue to avoid and resist Aephorul and his minions, but she would do it alone - hidden in the shadows, keeping the world at arm’s length to spare others from her doomed fate.
Aephorul stood amongst the chaos, his fists clenched, seething with rage at having narrowly lost Haru through the portal. As he brooded over his failure, another portal snapped opened with a burst of light and energy, illuminating the ravaged forest around it. From it stepped Resh'an, his presence alone enough to shift the atmosphere. Aephorul's glare darkened upon seeing him.
Resh’an’s eyes quickly took in the scene—the still-warm bodies of the fallen Solstice Warriors lying on the forest floor, the remnants of the storm that raged here still lingering in the tattered leaves and broken branches around them. His voice, carried a weight of calm authority when he spoke. "You broke the truce, Aephorul."
"Yeah, I can see that too," Aephorul retorted sharply, his voice thick with disdain.
Resh'an sighed, his eyes briefly closing as he absorbed the full extent of the devastation. The surrounding forest bore the scars of the storm as well.
"May I ask why? It's not really like you to interfere with Solstice Warriors like this." Resh’an asked.
"That's none of your fucking business, Resh'an," Aephorul snapped back, his temper flaring.
Resh’an remained undaunted by Aephorul's aggressive behavior. “I see. It still makes me curious,” he murmured, stepping closer to the dead boy to inspect the runes the palm of his hands—runes similar to those used in portal creation. He pondered why the warriors hadn't simply fled, then realized they must have been protecting someone else. He looked around again, examining the devastation of his surroundings.
“What are you doing there? They are already dead,” Aephorul asked, annoyance edging his voice.
Resh'an straightened, meeting Aephorul's gaze squarely. “I know.” He paused for a moment. Then, with a simple snap of his fingers, the Dweller and all lingering creations of Aephorul vanished around them, their forms dissolving into the wind as if they had never been.
Aephorul snarled at him, "You could at least spare the lives of my minions."
"Don't give me that, Aephorul. You have no respect for life… You can tell from this." Resh'an replied, his voice steady and calm as he gestured towards the fallen warriors. “Why should I spare your abnormal creations? You broke the truce, so be thankful that I didn’t interfere more.”
Aephorul scoffed, his anger barely contained. "Spare me that nonsense. I don’t care." He turned away, a new portal swirling into existence before him. He paused, looking over his shoulder. "I didn’t get what I was looking for, but in the end, it may be better this way." With those final words, he stepped through the portal, leaving Resh'an alone with the silence of the forest and the solemn reminders of the conflict.
Resh’an stood quietly for a moment longer, his gaze lingering on the surroundings and then back to where the fallen warriors lay. Without contemplating the events any further, he also left.
Little did Resh'an know, had Haru lingered just moments longer, their paths would have finally crossed again. Yet fate had other plans, leaving both to continue their solitary journeys, each shadowed by what might have been.
Notes:
Thank you for reading! That was the first look back into Haru's past. I had to make up a few things about the Ovates, as there isn't much information about them yet :D
The introduction to the story took up more chapters than expected tbh... but finally things are going to start now :3
Have a great weekend!
Chapter Text
Almost two weeks passed since Haru last saw the group. After encountering them for the first time in the lab, she only caught a glimpse of them once again a day later at Brisk Harbor before they ventured off to Wraith Island. The rumors about the island are chilling: those who visit never return, as if a curse envelops the place.
Haru chooses to remain on Sleeper Island a bit longer to explore its different areas. She is continually surprised by how similar yet profoundly different these endless worlds feel. There is always something new to discover, always something new to learn.
While descending from the cliff at Stonemasons Outpost with an elevator, Haru notices the alignment of the sun and moon, realizing that today marks the solar eclipse. It is time for the Solstice Warriors to confront the Dweller.
She secretly wonders if they will succeed. From her initial impression, she doubts their chances, but somehow, she harbors an odd feeling about their potential. Shaking her head, she tries to dismiss these thoughts. If they fail, this world will likely meet its end soon. That's the inevitable cycle of these worlds. Either they are saved by the Solstice Warriors and freed from torment, or they fall under the domination of Aephorul when a Worldeater emerges, which would mercilessly raze everything to the ground.
Reaching the base of the cliff, Haru observes the deepening darkness. It is still a long way to Brisk, so she sets off immediately to be back by sunset. As she makes her way through the Coral Cascades, the ground beneath her suddenly trembles, snapping her to high alert. She is scanning her surroundings for any indication of the source of the tremors and trying to use her elemental senses to track something - but nothing…until the quaking intensifies even more.
Suddenly, the atmosphere changes dramatically. The moon turns a sinister shade of blood red, and the sky mirrors this alarming hue. Without warning, the sky splits open, unleashing a barrage of large comets that rain down upon the earth, directly on Brisk. Haru stares wide-eyed at the unfolding catastrophe. "What the hell?" she breathes out, shocked, her feet moving instinctively as she sprints toward the port city. The urgency drives her forward, but a sinking feeling tells her she will be too late.
By the time she arrives, the scene is apocalyptic. The rain of fire has wreaked havoc on the town, leaving behind a landscape of destruction on the once so vibrant and colorful Brisk. Buildings are reduced to rubble, fires rage uncontrollably, and the air is thick with the acrid smell of smoke. The cries and moans of the injured and those mourning lost loved ones fill the air, adding to the chaos.
Amidst the devastation, Haru’s ears pick up the distinct sound of screams for help. She runs toward the source, trying to suppress her own feelings and memories that threaten to surface at that moment. She finds a terrified family cornered by grotesque abnormalities, creations of Aephorul that prey upon the vulnerable amid the confusion.
"Fuck!" Haru mumbles. Without hesitation, she charges towards the menacing creatures. Knowing she lacks the Solar and Lunar magic needed to defeat them completely, she focuses on diversion. Gripping her katana tightly,Haru swings with precision, her blade slicing through the air. The force of her swing generates a blast of air pressure that pushes the monsters against a building, the impact causing the ruined house to collapse and burying the monsters in rubble.
Haru spins around, addressing the frightened civilians. "Come on, you need to get out of here fast..." She notices others fleeing toward the harbor and points in that direction. "Head to the harbor! It’s safe there. I’ve got your back," she shouts, directing them to safety. As the civilians hurry away, Haru readies herself to move on, her eyes scanning for any more threats while she continues to search for more people in need of help.
When Haru reaches the marketplace, the sight that unfolds before her is one of utter devastation. Buildings are partially collapsed, debris littering the ground, gouged into the very heart of the marketplace is a massive crater. And amidst the chaos, monstrous creatures lurk, preying on the desperate civilians that are running away or fighting for their lives. Haru immediately springs into action - ready to assist.
Without hesitation, Haru draws her sword and leaps into the fray. She surrounds herself with an invisible wind current to support her swiftness Her movements are fluid and precise, each stroke of her blade a testament to her skill, yet she is acutely aware of her limitations.
As she fends off one monster, another quickly takes its place. The overwhelming numbers begin to kindle a panic within her, echoing past nightmares she thought she had long overcome. Her elemental magic, which she does not dare to fully unleash for fear of revealing her true nature, could make things so much easier for her at this moment. Yet, surrender is not in her nature.
Just then, a crescent moon arcs through the air with lethal grace, cleaving three of the nearby monsters in two. They instantly disintegrate into dust, and Haru’s eyes dart to the source. Valere emerges from the shadows of the marketplace.
"Zale, here!" Valere calls out as she sprints forward. She catches sight of Haru and recognition flickers across her face. "Lyn, is that you?" she calls, using the name Haru had given them. As she approaches, relief washes over her, the rest of Valere’s group converging, including a new face Haru hasn’t seen before.
"You're finally here," Haru breathes out, her voice laden with both relief and fatigue. "I could hardly keep them at bay. There are so many of them."
"Bridge wizard! We didn’t expect to see you here," Zale exclaims, his voice booming with a mix of surprise and elation. "Don’t worry! With us by your side, this will be a piece of cake," he declares, his usual optimism undimmed by the chaos around them.
Haru nods. "Let's do this." Together, they charge back into the battle.
Amid the chaos of the battle, Haru notices the strain and toll the fight against the Dweller on Wraith Island had taken on them. In a moment of her companions' unawareness, Haru takes the opportunity to strengthen her companions. With a subtle flick of the wrist, she envelopes them in a gentle, invisible current of wind.
Zale, in the midst of combat, feels the change immediately. After striking down another monster with unusual swiftness, he pauses, a look of surprise crossing his face.
"You feel that too? I suddenly feel so light and fast." He bounces on his heels, testing his newfound agility. "Oh my god, look!"
Valere, who is engaged in a fierce duel with another creature, doesn't miss a beat. "Zale! Whatever happened, it’s working. Let’s keep moving!" she shouts back, her focus remaining sharp as she welcomes any advantage in their fight to save Brisk.
Meanwhile, the unknown girl with two braids who fights fiercely with a pair of daggers and uses some kind of strange portal magic, pauses for a moment to glance in Haru’s direction. There is a flicker of recognition between them, a sense that they have crossed paths before, but the urgency of battle allows no time for contemplation. She nods slightly at Haru and then jumps into a green portal to engage another of the monstrous enemies.
Throughout it all, Haru remains vigilant, her senses attuned to both the immediate threats and the subtle dynamics of the group. Her intervention with the wind has been a gamble, but it pays off, lending her companions the edge they need to fight.
As the last of the monsters falls, a heavy, exhausted silence settles over Brisk, broken only by the heavy breathing of the warriors and the distant cries of those still in hiding, waiting to emerge from the ruins.
As they trudge through the battered streets of Brisk, Zale suggests, "Let's head to the docks. Garl is probably already waiting for us there. We shouldn't worry him too much."
Haru, her mind swirling with questions, decides to accompany them. Upon arriving at the harbor, they are greeted by the sight of a crowd seeking refuge, a makeshift sanctuary amidst the chaos. They find Garl in the effort to help, his hands carefully wrapping a bandage around an injured man's arm. As they approach, he looks up, relief momentarily replacing the strain in his eyes. " You made it back! Are all those monsters taken care of?"
"Yes," Valere responds, her voice firm yet weary. "They should all be gone. What's the situation here?"
"Pretty tense," Garl admits, finishing the bandage with a secure knot. His gaze then drifts to the group, noticing Haru among them. "Oh, hello Lyn. I didn't see you there." He says with a smile. Haru simply nods in acknowledgment, her presence almost ghostlike amidst the chaos.
The atmosphere among the Solstice Warriors is palpably heavy, exhaustion and a deeper despondency clouding their expressions. Sensing their distress, Haru gently asks, "May I ask what happened? Are the events here related to what happened on the island?"
Zale nods, his face shadowed with defeat. "We almost made it...and then we were betrayed by our own people." he takes a deep breath. "They were like family to us...I don't understand..." His voice trails off, choked with emotion.
Valere places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She clenches her other hand into a fist, anger simmering beneath her composed exterior. "After we had almost defeated the Dweller and only the core remained to be destroyed, our mentors turned out to be traitors. They helped other followers of the Fleshmancer to summon a new Dweller. And we just stood there and couldn’t do anything…if we just were stronger, maybe we could have…"
Garl steps closer to Valere, his tone soothing. "We did everything we could, Valere. It's not our fault." His words are meant to comfort, but the weight of their failure and betrayal hangs heavily in the air.
As she listens to their story, Haru feels a familiar sting - betrayal by those she had trusted. Her own past echoes in their words, the pain of being betrayed by someone as close as Aephorul, the resonance of that old wound still fresh in her soul. As she watches the young warriors struggle with a similar pain, Haru feels her heartbreak for them anew, understanding all too well the depth of their despair.
Haru tries to find words of reassurance. "Being betrayed by your own people, by your family, must be incredibly difficult and painful… That you blame yourself for not being able to do more... A feeling I know very well myself. But I can tell you, there's no point in regretting your actions and thinking about the what-ifs. The best thing you can do now is to move on and learn from your past, even if it's difficult at first…" Haru says softly and pauses for a moment to think about what to say next. Then she adds "And when I look at you I can see the determination to move on… that you won‘t give up so easily. No matter how difficult it is… you will continue to find ways to make the world a better and safer place. Even if you haven't achieved what you expected, your refusal to give up is a testament to your strength."
Valere's expression softens as she hears Haru‘s encouraging words. "Thank you, Lyn, for those kind words...And thank you for staying at our side to save Brisk." The others nod in agreement. They also seem deeply moved by her uplifting speech and are grateful for her assistance.
As the immediate crisis begins to subside, the survivors of Brisk gather on the docks to discuss the future of Brisk and its community, a discussion fraught with emotion and disagreement.
"We can't just leave," argues one of the older residents, his voice is strong despite his age. "Our families have lived here for generations. We need to rebuild, not abandon our home."
Others, particularly the younger citizens, feel differently. "There's nothing left for us here," a young woman replies, her expression resolute. "We need a fresh start, somewhere untouched by this disaster."
The debate continues, voices rising and falling like the tide, until a consensus begins to form. It is decided that those who wish to stay will begin the arduous task of rebuilding Brisk, while those seeking a new beginning will relocate to an uninhabited island to the northeast. However, moving a large group of people requires a sizable ship.
It is Keenathan, the wind mage, who suggests claiming the Vespertine. But they cannot decide without the captain’s permission. Haru can see how the new girl of the group sneaks away - unnoticed by the others. Curiosity fills her thoughts. After a short while, the captain of the pirates comes back. Haru realizes that the captain is none other than the girl with the two daggers who had fought alongside them. She is slightly amused that the pirates seem completely oblivious to this fact.
The decision is made and the group sets off immediately. Haru watches them go, a mixture of admiration and wistful nostalgia stirring within her. Their resilience and unity in the face of betrayal remind her so much of her younger self and the bonds she has once formed under similar circumstances. She wants to follow them, to protect them. But she holds herself back, her resolve to remain detached is still too strong. Yet, she can feel the walls she has built around her heart slowly beginning to crumble.
While the group is away, Haru stands behind. As she waits for the Solstice Warriors and their companions to return, she assists the citizens in tending to the injured and rebuilding the city as best she can. Days pass, and she can't shake her concern about whether they will make it back safely.
When they finally return, the sight of the large ship approaching the docks lifted everyone's spirits. Haru feels a surge of relief and pride - they have done it; they have secured the Vespertine. Watching them disembark, she realizes how deeply she has come to care about them and their success - So much so that it frightens her, but she has more pressing matters to attend to than dwell on her fears right now.
Haru walks to the bustling dock where the group is busily preparing for the transfer of citizens to the new island. As she approaches, Zale and Garl look up and waves in recognition.
Garl greets her with his characteristic warm smile, "Lyn, good to see you're still here. We kinda thought you’d moved on already."
"I stayed to help out. There’s still tons to do, and they’re nowhere near done," Haru replies, her gaze drifting over to the ship moored at the dock. "I see you've made it. I expected nothing less."
Garl's response is a nod filled with enthusiasm. "Of course! We won't give up," he declares. His optimism is undiminished by the challenges they had faced.
Haru feels a swell of pride as she looks at him. "Right. You won't," she affirms in a supportive manner.
As they continue to talk, catching up on plans and preparations, a certain thought doesn’t leave Haru's mind. She feels a pull towards them and their cause. She wants to know what would happen next, what their future held, and a part of her yearns to be involved in their journey a little longer.
The urge to stay with them, to see this new chapter through, conflicts with her instinct to remain detached to avoid future pain. Yet, as she stands there among the warriors and the survivors, Haru realizes that her connection to these people was already deeper than she has admitted to herself. The thought of leaving now feels more like a loss than preservation of the walls around her heart.
As the inhabitants of Brisk board the ship, ready to set sail for their new beginning, Haru feels a sudden urge to halt their departure. She calls out, raising her voice to be heard. "Garl, Zale, please wait a moment!"
As they board the deck of the ship, Zale and Garl turned to her, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity. "What is it, Lyn?" Garl asks, his tone inviting.
"I know this is a bit unexpected, but would you take me with you? I could help with the transfer and with the construction of the village," Haru asks tentatively, her request hanging in the air.
Garl's response comes with a wide grin, his voice playful, "Of course! We were wondering when you would finally ask."
Zale chimes in, teasing her a little, "Can't let go of us that easy, huh? I get it, we're a pretty awesome crew."
Haru is clearly amused by their light-hearted banter, a stark contrast to the gravity of what they had all been through. She crosses her arms and replies in a mocking tone, "Yeah, can't argue there - you guys really are something else"
"Well then, what are you waiting for? Do you want a personal invitation from us?” Zale says with a smirk on his face.
Haru snorts and makes her way onto the ship, feeling a lightness she hasn’t experienced in decades. As the ship pulls away from the dock, her doubts linger: Is this the right decision? But the pull she feels towards this group, like an invisible magnet, is undeniable. She decides not to overthink it. After all, her intention is simple: to help these people build a new home, to contribute to something meaningful after so much destruction.
Haru is greeted by her other new companions, who are also delighted to see her. Garl takes the opportunity to introduce her to one of their newest members, Serai, who has joined them on Wraith Island. Serai is quite reserved - she just nods at her and leaves again - but Haru doesn't mind.
"And this… this is Teaks," Garl says, pointing to the pink-haired girl with a large book slung around her hip. "She's a Traveling Historian, who travels with us to fill her magic book with stories." Garl waves to catch her attention, and Teaks, looking curious, approaches them. Haru's gaze meets Teaks' as she walks over.
"Hey there, do we have a new companion?" Teaks greets her in a friendly tone.
"Teaks, this is Lyn. She's coming with us to the island. We've met her several times before, and she's been a great help!" Garl explains. Suddenly, Garl has to leave; he waves at the two as someone calls out for him.
Teaks then observes Haru closely, causing Haru to feel somewhat self-conscious, as if Teaks could see through the barriers she has erected around herself over the decades.
"Umm… Is something wrong?" Haru asks nervously. Teaks doesn’t respond but continues to circle her, scrutinizing her like a curious scientist. Suddenly, Teaks' eyes widen as if struck by a sudden realization. "This can't be…" she murmurs, thrusting her heavy book into Haru’s hands. Haru is perplexed for a moment, but then the book begins to shimmer slightly in her grasp.
Teaks quickly takes the book back, leaving Haru even more baffled by her actions. Annoyed, Haru demands, "Could you please tell me what is happening here right now?"
Without answering, Teaks grabs Haru's hand and leads her to a private cabin, closing the door behind them. When she turns around, her eyes are alight with excitement.
Haru appears startled by Teaks's sudden change of mood. Before she could say something, Teaks blurts out "You're an Ovate, aren't you?" In a swift reaction, Haru clamps her hand over Teaks's mouth, her eyes wide with alarm. "Can you be quiet for fuck's sake?" she hisses.
Teaks looks shocked for a moment, but when Haru removes her hand, a mischievous smirk plays on her lips. "So… you are?" she prods again. Haru sighs in frustration. How did she find out?
"Oh, actually, you don’t have to tell me. I can read your history in my book now," Teaks remarks casually as she pushes the book onto the table and begins flipping through the pages, searching for Haru's chapter.
Haru's shock deepens. "No, no, no. You can’t just steal my background and write it down. This is a violation of my privacy!" she exclaims, her annoyance palpable.
Ignoring Haru's protests, Teaks quickly scans the text. "Oh, here you are... Let me take a look..." As she absorbs the contents, her expression shifts to one of shock. "You were imprisoned by the Fleshmancer for thousands of years?!"
Reacting instinctively, Haru moves forward and slams the book shut. "Enough!" she demands sharply. "You won’t tell anyone about me, understood? Otherwise, I will..." Her voice trails off, leaving the threat hanging in the air.
Teaks, visibly frightened, nods quickly. "Do-don't worry, I won’t tell anyone. It seems you have a reason for hiding your identity... Please trust me. I will keep the chapter hidden."
Haru, now feeling a bit ashamed for her harsh reaction, sighs. "Okay, sorry I didn’t mean to scare you... It’s just... I need to stay under the radar, otherwise the Fleshmancer could find me…"
"I will keep your secret with me. Don’t worry, Lyn!" Teaks reassures her, her eyes are bright with resolve. "But please don’t kill me if I read your full story, okay?"
Haru rolls her eyes, resigned. "Well, I probably can't stop you anyway."
Teaks's eyes sparkle with excitement. "Will you show me your elemental powers when you get a chance?"
Haru looks at her, still slightly annoyed by her straightforwardness, but then relents with a sigh. "Okay, but only when we are alone and nobody else will see it."
Teaks's face lit up with joy. "Yay, thanks, Lyn!" she exclaims, hugging Haru abruptly, which throws her slightly off balance. "This must be a dream. I never thought I would meet an Ovate. This is the best day ever!" she gushes, her smile broad and genuine.
Haru shakes her head, bemused. This girl is intense, but her enthusiasm is somehow endearing. She can’t help but feel like a rare specimen suddenly thrust into the spotlight, yet there is a warmth in Teaks’s excitement that is hard to resist.
As Teaks exits the room overjoyed, Haru slumps down onto a nearby chair and groans in frustration. It has only been a short moment since she decided to join this group temporarily, and already her carefully guarded secret is slipping out. The revelation of her true identity to someone as enthusiastic and unpredictable as Teaks is not ideal. Not at all. She sighs. It is too late anyway. All she can do now is to hope that Teaks will indeed keep her promise … otherwise she is screwed.
Notes:
Thanks for reading :)
Chapter 7: Reunion
Chapter Text
Resh’an sighs deeply as he closes the ancient tome and puts it aside. Another timeline brought another defeat of the Solstice Warriors – a tragedy of another world's downfall.
Surrounded by the towering shelves of the Great Archives, Resh’an monitors myriad timelines and parallel worlds for what feels like an eternity, relentlessly searching for a way to thwart Aephorul's dark ambitions.
How long has it been since he last stepped outside? Years? Decades? Time has blurred into obscurity, lost amid endless scrolls and books. Yet, he cannot afford to break his vigil; the fate of countless souls and entire worlds hinges on his research.
His eyes drift again to another manuscript, recently unearthed. This timeline too is doomed to crumble under Aephorul’s ruthless dominion. When he flipped through its pages for the first time, a familiar stir of memories welled up within him – emotions that had first surfaced decades ago when Aephorul broke their truce. The vivid memory of a devastated forest returns to him, alongside the image of Aephorul’s hollow excuses and the tragic demise of two Solstice Warriors who died protecting someone from his grasp.
This someone is an enigma; unnamed and unrecorded, a rarity in Resh’an’s extensive chronicles. Despite past efforts to track down this mysterious figure, all trails have led to dead ends, and Resh’an eventually abandoned the chase.
Yet now, as he picks up the manuscript that has captured his gaze all day, the intrigue reignites. The records of those two young Solstice Warriors mention their encounter with another nameless individual - mysterious, backgroundless. He is certain that these two individuals must be the same person.
Could it be? No. He quickly shakes off the thought as soon as it surfaces. That is impossible. It has been thousands of years ago... Yet, every time he revisits the past, all the memories and emotions he has buried deep within his soul threatens to resurface. But thankfully, over the millennia, he had learned how to keep his emotions in check, keeping as much emotional distance as possible from his buried memories.
Resh’an sighs and leans back in his chair. Despite the improbability, his curiosity remains unquenched to find out more about this enigma. Why did Aephorul break the truce decades ago? Was it because of this person that he shattered their agreement?
If so, how significant must this person be for him to take such a drastic step? Perhaps this nameless individual hold the key to dismantling Aephorul's plots…
So many questions, yet no answers…
Maybe, just maybe, it was time for him to intervene more directly in fate’s weave—perhaps it was time to give destiny that slight,but necessary nudge.
As the group arrives at the new island, the forest that will soon be transformed into a bustling village lies before them. The task of building a village from scratch is daunting, but Haru finds herself drawn deeper into the group’s dynamics. The light-hearted and sometimes demanding nature of her new companions grows on her faster than she would have liked, their personalities blending into a dynamic and cohesive unit.
Garl, with his ever-present smile and big heart, often lifts the spirits of everyone around him. Valere, though stoic and serious at first glance, reveals a depth of kindness and dedication that resonates with Haru. Zale, despite his goofy and somewhat naive demeanor, brings a sense of enthusiasm and humor that keeps their spirits high. And even though Serai is often reserved and speaks little, every now and then, she occasionally opens up a bit to the others.
During her stay, Teaks maintains a watchful eye on Haru. Her mischievous gaze seems to pierce through her, always hinting at her awareness of Haru’s true identity. Teaks seizes every opportunity when they are alone to inquire about her background. Although this is initially quite annoying, Haru gradually finds some joy in the fact that she was genuinely interested in her and her kind. And, despite her curiosity, Teaks honors her promise and keeps her secret from the others.
The first buildings of the new settlement are erected within two weeks. The community works tirelessly, and soon structures begin to dot the landscape. Garl is given the honor to name the new home for the refugees and chooses the name "Mirth" - a name that reflects the hope and joy he envisioned for the future of this town.
Two weeks after settling on the new island, the community's slow transformation of the landscape into a vibrant village is interrupted by a special arrival. Moraine, the esteemed headmaster who has mentored Zale and Valere, comes to Mirth, visibly worn and defeated. His entry into the village is marked by the symbolic act of dropping his staff and removing his cloak and sleeves, signaling his resignation from his long-held role due to the deep betrayal by his pupils, Erlina and Brugaves.
With his decision made public, Moraine declares his intent to stay in Mirth, taking on the role of Town Elder rather than continuing the active fight against Aephorul’s dark forces. But this choice doesn’t dampen his commitment to support Zale and Valere and their endeavours to engage the Dweller of Strife that hides in Aephorul’s previous residence on Mesa Island.
Moraine looks at the trio “I couldn’t find a way to wake Khukharr, but I’ve discovered someone who might.” He pulls out an ornate hammer "This Coral Hammer," he begins, holding it out, "is the key to entering the lost village of the Docarri, submerged beneath the blue lake on Watcher Island.” He pauses, ensuring his next words are clear, “Use the hammer to open the passage to the underwater village. Once you are there, find the Oracle of Tides. He might know who can wake up Khukharr.”
As Moraine speaks of Khukharr, Haru listens intently, her thoughts racing. Memories surge back to the creation of the three giants—Y'eet, X'tol, and Khukharr—and Resh’an’s invaluable assistance. It was him who has imbued Khukharr with a purpose far beyond mere existence – a task only for someone with immense magical power. Unlike Y'eet and X'tol, who are merely traveling giants, Khukharr is vital for the survival of Mesa Island, designed to uplift the island in response to a prophesied great flood. If anyone could awaken him, it would be Resh'an.
But…Could it be? Haru tries not to cling too tightly to this hope, aware that it can vanish as quickly as it arrives. Over time, she learned to let go of such thoughts, as it has been too long, but she still can’t completely relinquish them.
During the day, her curiosity about the ancient water tribe and the mysterious individual who might possess the power to awaken Khukharr is relentless. However, she cannot easily shake off the oppressive fear of plunging her new-found friends into their doom with her actions. She is torn between her inner turmoil and the possibilities that could open up for her.
Unable to sleep the night before the group's departure, Haru decides to take a short walk to clear her thoughts. As she strolls past the dock, she notices a solitary figure on the jetty. Approaching them, she recognizes Serai. She hesitates for a moment, unsure if she should join her or not, but then decides to speak to her.
"Hey, mind if I join you?" Haru asks cautiously.
Serai turns, giving her a long look. "This spot’s for loners who prefer silence," she replies in a neutral tone.
Haru considers this for a moment. "Guess I'm also a loner… and I am quite fond of the silence," she says and sits down, making sure to leave enough space between them to not intrude.
They sit in silence, lost in their thoughts and the darkness of the night sky. Despite sensing Serai's reluctance to chat, Haru eventually breaks the silence. "You're not from this world, are you?" she ventures, her voice laced with curiosity.
It takes a moment before Serai responds, "How could you tell?"
Haru smiles slightly, "I once had a friend who used portal magic. We traveled through countless worlds together. It’s not hard to spot the signs. Traveling like that... you start to notice the little differences between peoples and places."
Serai looks over, intrigued. "I thought there was something different about you... We all have our secrets, huh?"
Haru nods. "Definitely." Another pause fills the air before Serai speaks again.
“Where is your friend now?”
The question hangs heavy in the air. Haru hesitates, the pain was evident. "He... he’s no longer with us."
“…I am sorry to hear that….” Serai responds softly, her voice filled with empathy. After an awkward silence, Serai tries to change the subject “Are you coming with us tomorrow?”
“I don’t know actually… I’ve been thinking about it, but…” Haru drifts off, uncertain how to tell her about her inner turmoil. “I am not sure if I am ready for what could happen”
"Who really is ever ready for what might happen?" Serai muses, her tone tinged with sadness.
“You’re probably right. No one can ever be fully prepared... But what if others' lives could be at risk, depending on your decision?” Haru questions, trying to not reveal too much of her destiny.
Serai gives a bitter laugh. "I know that feeling all too well - the burden of making decisions on which the future of others depends… loved ones… Either you do nothing and watch your life and the lives of your people go downhill bit by bit without a ray of hope, or you take the risk and move forward, trying to change things even if it means facing losses.”
Haru is taken aback by Serai’s openness. "Is that why you’re with Zale and Valere? Do you believe they can help you?"
Serai nods firmly. "Yes, something tells me they’re the right choice - the ones who could actually make a difference for my people. Save our world…"
Haru mulls this over, her voice softening. “I get what you mean… it’s just that I’m not sure if I want to attach myself to other people, when they could probably die at any moment…“she pauses for a moment to gather her thoughts. ”I’ve been alone for a long time because of that reason… It seemed safer after everything I’ve been through…” she says with a hint of vulnerability, still thinking about what to do until Serai interrupts her train of thought.
"Don't overthink the risks... I know how paralyzing those thoughts can be" Serai interjects, her voice steady and sure. "The regret of not going might haunt you more. We’re all fighting the same enemy, and your skills would mean a lot to us. There’s something about you... together, we could really change things."
Haru looks up at the night sky, pondering. "Maybe you’re right," her words trailed off into the night. They sit in reflective silence for a long stretch. After a while, Haru stands. "Thanks, Serai, for this talk…and for opening up to me. I’ll think about it… Good night."
Serai nods at her and Haru walks back to the inn, Serai’s words echoing in her mind, weighing the decision as the night deepens around her. In the end, no one knows what would happen. But deep down, she believes that they are strong enough to face whatever might come their way.
That night marks the moment when Haru finally decides to move forward, striving to cast aside the oppressive fear of loss.
Now that Haru has officially joined the group, they arrive in Docarri Village shortly after reaching Watcher Island. The town itself is harmonized perfectly with the underwater world, blending seamlessly into its aquatic surroundings. The buildings, designed to resemble large conch shells, are adorned with vibrant anemones, tube sponges, corals, and starfish, creating a living mosaic that pulsated with underwater life. The Docarri, a race of humanoid aquatic creatures, move through their watery domain with a grace that spoke of their deep connection to the sea. The tribe is following the guidance of the Oracle of Tides, one of the three seers who are able to commune with the waters of the world.
Guided by the villagers, the group makes their way to his chambers, a sanctuary designed with the fluidity and mystery of the sea in mind. As they enter, the Oracle’s gaze falls upon them, particularly lingering on Haru. His old, wise eyes seem to penetrate her carefully maintained walls, recognizing the depth of her true nature. Despite this silent acknowledgment, he chooses not to expose her secrets, a decision that Haru silently appreciated.
The Oracle then addresses the group with a serene authority. “If you seek to reach Mesa Island, know that it is not the place of a seer to offer direct help, but rather to provide insight” He turns to gesture towards a massive waterfall cascading down behind him, its waters shimmering in the dim light.
“This waterfall is the gateway to our world’s greatest mystery. One that is yours to unveil, Solstice Warriors.” He pauses, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. “The Tower of Antsudlo. An enigmatic structure concealing a door that has remained firmly shut since time immemorial…Waiting for two Children of the Solstice with a slim but very real chance of altering fate – waiting for you”
Garl's enthusiasm bubbles over as he addresses Zale and Valere, "Well, I always knew you two were something special!"
However, the Oracle of Tides quickly tempers the mood with his grave tone. “But let me tell you one more thing. No matter the outcome, no matter what will happen in the tower, you will not be able to defeat the Dweller of Strife.”
The group falls silent, the weight of his words sinking in. A hushed discussion ensues, their expressions are marked by concern and surprise. It was during this moment of uncertainty that Haru speaks up for the first time, "But this can't just be the end…We’re still going to try everything we can... There is no way around. Isn’t there anything you can do to help?"
The Oracle looks at Haru and a husky chuckle escapes his lips. “The ancient one that witnessed the early days of the downfall…What a pleasure…” he remarks. Haru freezes, feeling all eyes suddenly turn towards her. Teaks, in particular, wears a mischievous grin, clearly amused by the Oracle’s reference. Haru attempts to brush it off, trying not to make a big deal out of the unexpected exposure.
The Oracle continues, his voice is steady and clear while looking at Zale and Valere “…it is not within my power to help you make it onto Mesa Island. But whatever fate has in store for you, all I know for certain is that your next step is beyond the waterfall. Survive its trials and discover the secret that has been waiting for you all along.” His eyes then move from Valere and Zale back to Haru, “And perhaps, fate will open up a door that has been closed for a very long time.”
As the group prepares to make their way into the Tower, the Oracle of Tides stops Haru with a significant look. “This is something the children should be able to do without your help, ancient one…”
Valere, Zale, Garl and Serai now look at Haru with a mix of confusion and newfound curiosity. Haru simply nods at them, accepting the Oracle’s wisdom. “I’ll see you on the ship... Good luck.” she says reassuringly. With those parting words, the four adventurers disappear through the cascading waterfall, leaving Haru and Teaks behind.
After a short moment of silence, the Oracle speaks up “It is indeed remarkable to encounter an Ovate in these times. It was assumed that they were all extinct.” his voice deep and resonant in the quiet of the chamber.
Haru acknowledges him “As far as I know, I’m the only survivor of my kind”
“You must be cautious, Wind Ovate. The Fleshmancer‘s shadow lingers longer than the night. You will encounter him again, and the stakes will be greater than ever… It‘s inevitable, given the cycles of fate“
Haru absorbs his words with a solemn nod, the weight of her past and the looming future momentarily pressing down on her, sending a chill down her spine. “I understand,” she replies, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions his prophecy stirs within her.
The Oracle, sensing her resolve and perhaps her need for support, offers her a gesture of solidarity. “We have access to ancient writings about the mastery of water that could aid you. Since you‘re a Wind Ovate, mastering the water element could be more intuitive for you, given the symbiotic nature of these elements.”
Haru's interest is immediately piqued. She has never been able to find such writings since her awakening and should definitely not miss the opportunity to deepen her knowledge and perhaps strengthen her defences for the challenges ahead. “I‘d be grateful to see these writings,” she says, her usual reserve softens by the prospect of gaining new wisdom.
The Oracle nods and gestures for her to follow him to the Docarri library, a sanctuary of knowledge submerged beneath the water’s surface, where the writings of ancient Ovates were preserved. As they walk to the library, Teaks hurries to join them, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
In the library, the Oracle pulls out several scrolls and books, laying them gently on the table. “These are the writings on the water aspect, penned by Ovates of old,” he explains. “Study them well. They may hold the key to enhancing your abilities and understanding. Take the knowlegde you need with you when you leave.“ He then leaves the two of them behind in the library, surrounded by the knowledge of millennia.
Haru and Teaks begin to decipher the ancient symbols and texts. The room is silent except for the soft murmur of water and the rustle of parchment. As they read, Haru feels a connection to her kind, something familiar stirs in her - memories of old times.
Teaks glances up at Haru, her face lighting up with awe and excitement. “This is incredible, Lyn. To think that you’re a part of this ancient race. I can’t wait to see you master the water element!”
Haru is clearly amused by her outburst. “And I suppose you'll be sticking around to keep an eye on me, huh?”
Teaks flashes a mischievous grin. “Absolutely. We'll have to come up with a solid excuse for why we're always missing together.”
After spending a significant amount of time in the library of the Docarri to study the ancient writings, Haru and Teaks carefully selected the most crucial scrolls and texts to bring with them. With their departure drawing near to get back to the ship, they bid a heartfelt farewell to the Docarri villagers, expressing their gratitude for the wisdom and hospitality they have been offered.
Upon reaching the ship, they find that the rest of the group had not yet returned from the Tower of Antsudlo, leading to an anxious wait that stretches longer than anyone has anticipated.
To pass the time and ease their growing concern, Haru and Teaks frequently slip away from the ship to let Haru practice the water element techniques she has learned from the ancient tomes and scrolls. She has already grasped the basics of manipulating the water element when she was younger, so the initial exercises are relatively simple to follow. Teaks watches with wide-eyed awe as Haru coaxes the water to swirl and dance at her command, marvelling at how she manipulates the element with increasing proficiency.
As Haru pushes herself to try more complex techniques, she eventually reaches her limits. The water now resists her advanced commands, challenging her to refine her control and deepen her understanding.
Teaks is a constant presence by her side, offering encouragement and quickly becoming more than just a companion - the initial awkwardness that has marked their first meeting has dissolved step by step. Their practice sessions not only serve as a distraction from their worries but also cement a friendship that has grown from tentative interactions when they met for the first time.
One day, as they return from their secret practice sessions, Keenathan meets them at the dock, he is clearly excited. "There you are at last! The others have finally returned and they've brought someone new with them!"
Haru and Teaks look at each other in relief and hurry to the ship. Upon their arrival, they see the group assembled on the deck. Relief washes over Haru - hopefully the long wait has paid off. Teaks, unable to contain her curiosity and excitement, calls out to them as soon as they were within earshot, “Hey, guys! Good to see you back. Did you figure out the tower's secret?”
Garl turns around and greets her with a broad smile. "Hey, you two. We sure did, and we brought the secret with us. He'll accompany us from now on."
He steps aside to reveal their new companion who was standing behind the group. “This is Resh’an” Garl announces with his characteristic grin, “He’s an alchemist”
Teaks’ eyes widen in surprise, and Haru’s in shock. Haru's breath catches in her throat as she faces the new yet familiar figure before her, stirring up deep memories.
It is Resh’an… He was in the tower - the heart of the world's greatest mystery.
His entire body is now shrouded in ancient robes, similar yet distinctly different from those he wore in their past. His arms are tightly wrapped in bandages, and a purple veil covers his face up to his eyes, hiding any expression that might hint at his thoughts or feelings.
Her heart begins to hammer wildly in her chest. She hasn’t seen him since the days before Aephorul’s downfall, millennia ago. For years, she has clung to the hope of finding him until she finally let it go. And yet, here he is, standing right in front of her, his brown eyes studying her with a curious glint. It feels almost mocking, how fate has tossed him back into her path like some cruel joke.
The shock of seeing him in such a state, combined with the heavy veil of secrecy that now physically manifested in his attire, makes the moment surreal. Haru has known him as a vibrant presence, his face open and often smiling. Now, the layers of fabric and bandages presents a man who seems to have woven his own barriers, not just around his body but palpably around his soul.
But why is he here?
Haru stands petrified, as if under a spell by the intensity of his gaze that seems to pin her to the spot. She barely notices as Teaks approaches him with the same inquisitive scrutiny she has once faced. She is lost, just staring at him like a creep, unable to tear her gaze away.
Does Resh'an recognize her? Haru’s appearance has changed significantly - her attire is different, her hair longer, and her face partially concealed. It seems impossible that he would recognize her after all this time. And even if he could, would he remember her? She is lost in these thoughts, oblivious to the ongoing conversations.
Suddenly, Garl’s voice breaks through her “…and this, this is Lyn.” Haru snaps out of her trance, realising that Garl is introducing her directly to Resh’an.
Resh’an’s gaze meets hers once more, he looks at her with a inquisitive expression in his eyes. “Lyn? That's an interesting name…” he comments with a calm and soothing voice. Hearing his voice after such a long time makes her breath hitch and intensifies the drumming of her heart in her chest.
She can only force out a barely audible “Hi”. She inwardly cringes at her awkwardness, feeling like a complete idiot.
Thankfully, Teaks who was probably aware of Haru’s uneasiness, cuts through the tension. “Come on Resh’an, let me show you the glass dome - it's perfect for a greenhouse, to grow herbs for your ingredients!” Resh’an hums in anticipation and takes one last look at Haru as he follows Teaks to the dome.
It is evident that this reunion is no longer a mere coincidence. After everything that has happened to her, she just wanted to forget about him, to let go of her vulnerable side and move on. Yet, it appears fate has its own wicked plans for her.
Notes:
Thank you for reading <3
Chapter Text
As the ship makes its way through the waters towards Mesa Island, the group gathers in the mess room in the evening. The soft glow of lanterns casts a warm light over their faces as they discuss their next steps: awakening Khukharr to remove the magical barrier surrounding Mesa Island, and traveling to Aephorul's old residence to confront the Dweller of Strife that awaits them. Everyone clearly remembers what the Oracle of Tides has told them about their chances of winning, but that doesn't discourage them from giving their all.
During this gathering, Resh'an's presence is notably reserved yet attentive. He follows the conversations intently, his observations sharp, yet he shares his insights sparingly, in a manner that is calm and measured, reflecting his extensive knowledge and experience about Aephorul’s creations and the Dweller’s.
His occasional glances in Haru’s direction carry a weight that felt both familiar and distant. Despite this, he makes no move to speak directly to her, maintaining a careful distance that mirrors her own avoidance.
In Haru's mind, Resh'an's behaviour confirms her suspicion that he does not recognize her - or if he does, he chooses not to acknowledge their past acquaintance. This realization stings, yet it also provides her with a path forward: She resolves to maintain her guise as Lyn, keeping her true identity hidden, not just from Resh'an but from everyone else.
However, maintaining this facade proves more challenging than she anticipates. Resh'an's arrival has stirred a whirlwind of emotions within her. Memories, both sweet and bitter, surface with a clarity that overwhelms her. The long-suppressed pain and losses of her past begin to gnaw at her composure.
Finding it increasingly difficult to keep her emotions in check in his presence, Haru decides to spend most of the following day alone in her cabin. She needs this time to gather herself, to rebuild the walls that his presence threatens to dismantle. If she was to keep her past a secret and maintain her role within the group, she needs to get her emotions under control when he is around.
As she sits in solitude, Haru reflects on the complexity of her feelings. The presence of Resh'an was a constant reminder of what she had endured and overcome, a constant reminder of what she has lost forever. Seeing Resh’an brings back memories of him, Aephorul and their peaceful time together. It also brings back the deep love she once held for him, a feeling buried deeply in her heart over the endless years, now struggling to resurface. But then she sees Mina at Resh'an's side and Aephorul at hers, during the tumultuous period when everything started to fall apart until Aephorul snapped.
Haru's curiosity about Resh'an and his reasons for joining their journey is undeniable, yet she faces a problem. Zale, Valere, Garl, and Serai remain silent about his past, clearly determined to keep his identity and background hidden. Haru respects this, given her own dependence on Teaks keeping her secrets. However, this situation complicates her interactions with the group. She can’t probe too deeply without risking exposure of her own hidden past. The only one that could probably help her is Teaks.
It was late evening and the unresolved questions about Resh'an are still gnawing at Haru, pushing her to a point where she can't bear the solitude of her own cabin anymore. Needing answers - or at least a distraction - she finds herself outside Teaks' cabin. She knocks quietly, her heart racing with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness.
Teaks cracks the door open with a knowing smirk, scanning the corridor before greeting. "Oh, hello Haru~. Didn’t expect to see you around at this hour. What brings you here?" she teases in a light tone, fully aware of Haru’s motives.
Haru responds tersely, slightly irritated by the playful address and regretting that she has ever revealed her real name to Teaks, "Cut that shit, you know why I’m here…" Noticing Teaks still blocking the doorway, she adds with a hint of desperation, "Could you please let me in?"
With a pleased chuckle, Teaks steps aside, allowing Haru to slip inside quickly. As the door shuts behind them, Haru lowers her scarf - a gesture she reserves only for moments alone with Teaks. “You know who he is, right? I mean, you could also see -” Haru begins but Teaks interrupts her.
“Oh Haru, where were you all day? Trying to avoid our new guest?” Teaks flashes a mischievous grin. "You know him well, right? Your face when you saw him… it was almost cute, seeing you so vulnerable for a moment. But really, what is he to you?" she mocks playfully.
Haru exhales sharply, her frustration is evident. "Teaks please… I just need to know what happened to him over the past millennia…" she pleads, then adds with a defeated sigh, "Gods… Okay… He was… a very good friend back then."
Teaks' eyes sparkle with intrigue. "Really? Just a good friend, or was there more?" she probes, still smirking.
Haru shoots her a glare “Teaks, can you just….”
Teaks laughs, softening her tone. "Oh my, I’m sorry, dear Haru. I’m just messing with you a bit. That’s what friends do, right?"
Haru rolls her eyes, her annoyance fading as Teaks changes her tone. “But of course, as your dear friend, I will help you…” Teaks walks over to her desk and opens her magic tome, flipping through the pages until she finds what she's looking for. “But you know, he did ask me to keep his chapter hidden from the others…”
Haru sighs “I’m aware, but I already know who he is, so it doesn’t really matter…”
Teaks turns playful again. “But why didn’t he say anything to you then?” When Teaks turns around and sees Haru's expression she quickly softens.
“He… doesn’t recognize me, I think… It’s been millennia,” Haru confesses, her voice laced with vulnerability. “I’ve changed since then, and I’m hiding behind this ridiculous scarf,” she sighs, resignation in her tone. “But it doesn’t matter. I hadn’t planned on revealing myself to him anyway.”
Teaks gives Haru a reassuring smile, feeling slightly guilty for her earlier teasing. “I believe you, Haru… I was just curious. But you’re probably right,” she pauses, and then gestures towards the book. “Here.”
Haru nods gratefully and walks over to the desk, sitting down to read the chapter, hoping for answers or perhaps closure from the past she is desperately searching for.
As Haru pours over the chapter in Teaks' book, the words take her back to a time that seemed both distant and painfully close. The chapter outlines the early days of Aephorul and Resh’an’s friendship, when they were united in their pursuit of alchemical knowledge and have just achieved immortality. She clearly remembers the initial signs of their bodies’ slow decline under the weight of everlasting life. It started subtly, with small patches on their skin that grew more pronounced as centuries passed.
She also remembers that even the profound healing techniques of renowned water and earth healers could only delay the inevitable decay, never fully restoring their once youthful vitality. Seeing Resh’an now with his body completely shrouded, Haru understands the full extent of his fate. The concealment is not merely for anonymity. The physical decay must have progressed over the millennia to the point where he can no longer expose any part of himself.
So over the time, Aephorul’s resentment of his eternal state slowly began to fester. His yearning for mortality led him down a path of dark alchemy, exploring forbidden techniques that pushed the boundaries of ethical experimentation with different life forms, eventually involving Haru's own kind in his twisted studies. The betrayal culminated shortly after Haru distanced herself from him, following his banishment for the atrocities committed against her people.
The memories of that time - the destruction of the capitol, the smell of death in the air, her family gone – flow back as she reads. Tears are blurring her vision and her hands are trembling while she glides over the pages. But she needs to continue, needs to grasp the full scope of what had happened after Aephorul sealed her away, to understand the events that led to the present…
“After the genocide and destruction, Resh’an tried to intervene as best as he could, but all that ensued was unspeakable chaos and collateral damage as the two former friends fought with godlike powers. Aephorul began to create minions out of blood, flesh and bones, giving him the title of the Fleshmancer.
Resh’an discovered that the flesh minions' only weaknesses would be Solar and Lunar magic, a power bestowed upon those born during a solstice. He began to train these children to become Solstice Warriors, singularly tasked with culling the numbers of Aephorul’s creations.
But Aephorul’s power also grew, so he began to create Dweller’s. In a desperate attempt to get ahead, Resh'an boldly performed transmutation alchemy on the very space-time continuum itself. After successfully splitting reality into countless timelines and parallel worlds, he shelved his alchemy vial and took up the mantle of Archivist.
On an endless journey across all realities, he would catalog every possible outcome in search of a resolution to the throes of the Fleshmancer. Meanwhile, Aephorul rejoiced at the infinite number of opportunities for destruction that had just opened up to him.
To find some measure of peace amidst their immortal conflict, the two alchemists made a pact to let the fate of each timeline play out on its own. And so the game of cat and mouse began, played by Dwellers and Solstice Warriors on one level, and by Resh'an and Aephorul on another.”
Haru stares at the book, utterly overwhelmed by what she has read. Everything makes fully sense now: Resh’an creating the Solstice Warriors, his Great Eagle form bringing the children, the endless worlds and timelines… The whole construct is based on a big picture: a conflict between her two old friends. And by being the Archivist, Resh'an has been in the tower all this time, trying to find a way to stop Aephorul, probably alone, without any support or company. Haru’s fingers tighten around the book, clinging to it as if it can anchor her in the storm of emotions swirling inside her.
Teaks observes Haru quietly, her expression a blend of sympathy and sorrow. “And? What do you think…It’s kinda… sad, isn’t it?”
Haru exhales a shaky breath and just nods, her voice is stuck somewhere deep in her throat. The image of Resh'an, isolated in his quest to find a way to defeat him, is overwhelming. She feels a surge of longing – a part inside her she tries to suppress - to rush to him, to embrace him and never let go. She wants to offer him comfort, to share the burden he has shouldered alone for so long.
Lost in her inner reflections, Haru barely notices the silence stretching between them until Teaks finally speaks again, breaking into her thoughts. "From what I've heard from Zale, Valere, and the others, he didn’t reveal much about why he decided to join us."
Haru hums, she expected that already. Why should he reveal his reasons, after all this time secluded in his own battles? “We'll see where it leads. As long as he helps waking up Khukharr .“ She murmurs, trying to refocus on the immediate goals ahead.
“Exactly, that would help a lot,” Teaks responds, her tone is laced with hope, trying to lift the somber mood.
Feeling the need to retreat and process everything alone, Haru slowly stands up. "Thank you… for letting me read this. I think I need to head back to my room now…" Her voice is tense, unable to mask the emotional turmoil that threatened to spill over. The weight of her discoveries, and the memories they stirred, are pressing heavily on her.
Teaks gives her a nod, "You’re welcome, Haru. Take your time," she says softly, offering a supportive smile.
Haru manages a small, grateful smile in return and bids Teaks good night. Pulling her scarf over her face, she steps out of the room.
As Haru closes the door behind her she collides with someone unexpectedly standing right in front of her. Her heart skips a beat as she looks up to see Resh’an, who seems to be on his way to visit Teaks. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you…” Haru murmurs.
Did he hear them talk? Her cheeks warm under her scarf at the thought, grateful for the cover it provided. She clears her throat, averting her gaze to regain her composure. "Teaks is still up if you’re looking for her," she says, her voice steady.
“I was actually looking for you,” Resh’an replies calmly, his voice interrupting her thoughts.
Haru breath hitches “What?” She looks up, meeting his intense gaze, as if he is trying to decipher something inside her.
“Valere mentioned that you might know where the alchemy books are. They're not in the greenhouse.”
The tension eases within her and she relaxes slightly. “Oh… I have them in my cabin. Just give me a moment” Haru walks along the corridor to her cabin to pick up the books from her desk. When she enters her room, she feels a bit embarrassed by the disarray, stuff laying around everywhere. She didn’t have enough energy to tidy up her room.
The ancient manuscripts and writings from the Ovates still lay scattered on the desk. When she notices Resh'an standing in the doorway, his gaze fixed on the table, Haru hurriedly gathers the alchemy books, “Here, I forgot to bring them back…” she hands them over while trying to maintain a casual demeanor.
Resh'an hums, but his attention, however, is drawn back to the table. “What are those writings? They look ancient,” he asks, his curiosity piqued.
“Oh, this…” Haru waves her hand dismissively, her voice slightly unsteady, “it’s nothing interesting, really. Just some old notes I thought might be useful, but they turned out to be just scribbles, boring stuff,” she chuckles nervously. Why can’t he just leave?
He glances back at her “I see…” then he surveys the room, his expression turning slightly critical. “Maybe you should tidy up your room a bit, especially if you’re inviting guests over. It’s not really pleasant to look at.“ his tone carries a hint of disdain.
Haru bristles at his comment, feeling offended but restraining herself from snapping back as he adds, “Thank you for the books though, Lyn.” His voice was calm, but there was an edge of cockiness to it, his use of her pseudonym almost taunting.
As he turns and leaves, Haru stares after him, dumbfounded. Is he serious? Once the door closes behind him, she lets out a breath she hasn’t realized she was holding in. What was that interaction about? Is he messing with her?
Haru lets out an annoyed huff. That audacity… He was not the tidiest person either. She still remembers very well how messy he could be at times. That makes this whole conversation even more irritating.
“This arrogant ass…” Haru mumbles to herself. Moments ago, she felt sympathy for him, and now this? As it turns out, their renewed acquaintance is proving to be as challenging as it was confusing.
As the group finally arrives on Mesa Island the next day, they are immediately struck by the sight of Khukharr the Stone Giant. His large head peers out of the water with closed eyes - still in a profound slumber. The island itself is enveloped in a purple magic barrier, the barrier only Khukharr himself could dispel.
The group gathers on the deck to prepare for their long journey. Haru stands beside Serai, who offers a reserved but friendly nod. Their conversation in Mirth has certainly breached the dam of reservation somewhat, helping Haru to better understand her intentions and how to interact with her.
"Morning! That was another really fast ride," says Zale with a contented yawn as he approaches the group. Valere hums in agreement “Good morning… yes, it was. The last trip to Watcher Island was unexpectedly quick too…”
As the conversation unfolds, Haru subtly shifts her gaze away toward the island, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.
Resh’an speaks up, clearly intrigued “It seems we have a quite talented wind mage among us, capable of manipulating the wind to bring the ship swiftly and precisely to its destination.” His eyes flick to Keenathan, who looks slightly uncomfortable under the attention.
With all eyes now on Keenathan, he admits with a self-conscious chuckle, “Well, I honestly don’t know what you’re implying. I might be a wind mage, but controlling the wind to that extent is beyond my abilities.”
Resh’an raises an eyebrow at his response “Oh, so the wind blowing at the perfect speed and direction isn't your doing? That means we're either very lucky, or perhaps there’s someone else among us who has perfectly mastered the wind element.“
The group exchanges confused glances. Garl responds casually, “We don’t have anyone else who practices wind magic in our group, Resh’an.” His statement hangs in the air, leaving a subtle hint of mystery for the fortunate conditions of their journey.
“Oh, we don’t? I thought perhaps we might have a hidden Wind Ovate among us, surprising us with their presence… but I guess we're just very lucky then,” Resh’an remarks somewhat mockingly, yet in his usual calm tone. His gaze briefly meets Haru’s cold stare.
In that moment, the realisation crushes down on Haru. Of course, he has noticed her use of wind magic. How could she have been so careless, so stupid? To any average person, her actions might have gone unnoticed. But Resh'an, he isn’t normal. He is a keen observer, a scientist with an eye for detail. She mentally scolds herself for not being more attentive to this perceptive freak, especially given that he now clearly understands her true identity.
Yet, it only takes him this one provocative remark to piss her off again, confirming not only that he recognizes her abilities but that he remembers who she was. On top of that, he tries to tease and unsettle her by playing with her secret in front of everyone instead of confronting her privately. What is his problem?
Unable to restrain herself and falling right into the verbal trap he has perhaps laid, Haru’s response is laced with unmistakable sarcasm. “For a simple alchemist you claim to know a lot about the Ovates, considering that they’ve been dead for millennia.”
Resh’an raises his eyebrow in irritation and offense “Excuse me? What did you call me?”
Oh, the way he is looking at her. Haru can tell she struck a nerve by questioning his skills and knowledge - attributes that Resh’an, given his background and experiences, always held in high esteem. Behind Resh’an, Garl and Zale exchange panicked looks, silently signalling each other by fiddling some death signs. They probably think that Haru is challenging an immortal being - a godlike individual - without her even knowing it.
However, Haru is beyond caring about the reverence others hold for Resh’an’s status. The Immortal Alchemist? The Archivist of endless timelines and worlds? A god? Whatever. For her, he was just another companion that acted like an arrogant ass, thinking he could play with her just like that. “Oh, a simple alchemist who is also deaf? I said for an ordinary alchemist like you, you claim to know a lot about a race that has been dead for ages.” The group falls silent, watching the escalating tension between them.
Garl tries to defuse the situation in a nervous tone. “Oh come on, you two… we don’t need to argue over these trivial things, do we?”
But Resh’an ignores Garls attempt and narrows his eyes at Haru, his usual composure slipping slightly to reveal a thread of annoyance “And you think flipping through some books and ancient writings makes you omniscient? Ridiculous.” He says with a fake snort, though the strain in his voice suggests he was more affected than he let on. “But it’s curious, isn’t it? For someone so reclusive, spending your days hidden away with ancient texts about the Ovates, you're rather defensive about this topic. Pretending to know little, yet reacting so pointedly on my insinuation about the Wind Ovate…I wonder why…”
His words cut through the air, sharp and calculated. Haru realizes that Resh’an has been fully aware of the Ovate writings scattered on her desk—the same writings she has dismissed as uninteresting to him. He must have recognized her almost immediately upon their reunion. And it’s now unmistakably clear that his probing questions and pointed remarks were not mere curiosity but a deliberate provocation, perhaps an attempt to unsettle her or gauge her reactions. But now that she sees his manipulative game, she’s not backing down.
Haru crosses her arms in annoyance as she faces Resh’an. She knows she must tread carefully, but his arrogance has always been a trigger for her, pushing her past her usual restraint. “And you’re immediately triggered when someone questions your abilities and knowledge it seems... Do you have some self-esteem issues, or is there more to it than that?” she retorts, her words sharper than intended.
Resh'an's reaction is immediate, though subtle. His fingers twitched slightly, a sign of his effort to maintain composure under her pointed remark. He stares at her with an intensity that sends a shiver down Haru's spine. For a fleeting second, she sees his mask crack, revealing a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes - a mix of anger, guilt and something different, she can’t quite decipher in the heat of the moment. But it is clear that she crossed the line. There was an awkward silence for a short time.
Haru sighs and averts her gaze, feeling slightly guilty by knowing that she pushed too far with her words. She adds firmly “But whatever you’re implying… it isn’t helping us to wake Khukharr, Alchemist.” With that, she brushes past him, feeling his intense gaze on her back as she moves to leave the ship.
The rest of the group follows silently, the air thick with tension that none can fully grasp. As they walk toward the plateau where Khukharr’s head lies, Serai quietly moves closer to Haru. “And I thought I‘m the only one who can’t stand that man. You really made him speechless… Nice job, Lyn.” she whispers in awe.
Haru can’t hold back a snort at Serai’s remark, feeling a slight relief from the tension that has been building on her shoulders. Yet, the laughter doesn't fully mask the underlying guilt about her confrontational words. She hasn’t intended to spark a fight in front of everyone, but in the heat of the moment, when he started to play mind games by trying to get a reaction out of her about her hidden background, her control slipped.
Now, knowing that Resh'an is aware of her true identity, the dynamics between them shift irreversibly. This realization adds a layer of awkwardness and she feels completely overwhelmed about how to deal with the current situation. First, she was really annoyed by his cocky attitude, but then she saw his reaction when his composure slipped and now, she hasn’t any idea how to interpret this.
No matter what, it is clear that she probably can’t continue to pretend like this forever given their past and connection.
Notes:
Thanks for reading!
Chapter 9: Mesa Island I
Chapter Text
As the group makes their way toward Khukharr, the tension, even if it has eased, is still clearly noticeable. When they finally reach the platform, the enormous stone head of Khukharr looms before them.
Garl's voice cuts through the silence, tinged with curiosity and a hint of concern. "So, Resh'an? How exactly are you planning to wake him up? You mentioned that the potion normally takes centuries to produce."
Haru shifts her attention from the imposing figure of Khukharr to Garl, her interest piqued by the question.
Resh’an, who already regained his composure after the encounter with Haru, takes the hour glass that was hanging from his chest. „I will utilize my Vial of Time to awaken Khukharr.” He holds up the hourglass, its sands shimmering mysteriously. "This vial grants me control over time, allowing me to accelerate the potion's maturation process substantially."
The group looks at the mysterious artefact with keen fascination. Serai, watching the exchange with a critical eye, voices her concern. “I hope this will work, Alchemist,” she says sternly. “Otherwise, you and me have a problem.”
Resh’an looks at Serai, but doesn't react to her warning. Instead, with all eyes on him, he walks to the edge of the platform and pauses, holding the Vial of Time up. “Now… a hundred and fifty years should do it…” He splits the hourglass into two glowing halves and, with a precise throw, sends one half arcing through the air to land on Khukharr’s face.
The group holds their breath, watching intently. To Haru's amazement and relief, the stone giant's eyes slowly open, the ground trembling slightly with the deep rumble of his awakening.
“Good morning, Khukharr.” Resh’an greets the giant in a calm and friendly manner, as if waking an old friend from a long slumber.
Khukharr’s response rumbles like thunder, yet there is a clear note of loyalty and respect. “Master… Have you come to check on my work? As you can see, I have not faltered”
“I commend your dedication” Resh’an replies in contentment.
“Thank you, master.” Khukharr says, his massive eyes then shifting to scan the group of bystanders. His gaze lingers on Haru for a moment before returning to Resh’an. “It seems that you’ve brought the munchkin with you”
Before Haru could react to the unexpected revival of her old nickname, Resh'an lets out a sound that is part snort, part cough, but he quickly regains his composure with a clear of his throat. “That is…right, Khukharr.” he remarks, his voice tinged with amusement.
Haru remains silent, trying to process the fact that Khukharr still remembers her and - of all fucking things - this hilarious nickname Resh'an used by as playful jab during moments of teasing, particularly about her height. It was a term that he has enjoyed using, especially when they were engaged in their spirited bickering. Unfortunately, during the creation of Khukharr, the giant has latched onto the nickname but never her real one, which Resh'an found amusing.
The group exchanges puzzled looks, somewhat accustomed to Resh'an's cryptic demeanor but choosing not to probe further into the odd dynamic between Khukharr and him.
Breaking the momentary silence, Khukharr's deep voice rumbles. “The water has risen quite a lot, how long was I asleep?”
"An irrelevant matter," Resh'an replies with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Aephorul left his castle on Mesa Island a long time ago and his acolytes have lost most of their powers. It won’t happen again anytime soon.” He reassures the stone giant.
“Okay, I understand… How can I help?”
“These people are your friends.” Resh'an says, turning to address the group “Your turn” he adds, stepping aside to allow Garl to speak.
Garls walks forward, his voice friendly yet tentative “Hello Khukharr! Can you… help us in any way?”
“My main duty is to hold Mesa Island at this precise altitude. Anything I can do without hindering my grip, I will gladly oblige, friend.” Khukharr’s voice resonates through the air with a sense of duty.
Zale chimes in “Well then, could you remove the barrier so we can get onto Mesa Island?”
“Oh?” Khukharr ponders for a moment before replying “Surely you know of the evil castle that sits there. It is no place to send a friend.”
“Oh yeah, that’s still where we are headed” Valere responds.
Khukharr's tone shifts to one of concern, "I will not send friends into danger. I refuse."
A heavy silence falls over the group as they process Khukharr’s refusal.
“Well, that's working out pretty well…” Haru retorts, her voice filled with sarcasm and amusement. Beside her, Serai seems less amused, letting out an annoyed huff in agreement. She looks ready to lash out at Resh’an for not managing the situation more effectively.
Resh’an sighs. Without a word, he focuses on the task at hand, moving forward to adjust his approach. With precise movements, he tosses his vial first to put Khukharr back to sleep momentarily and then a second time to repeat the awakening process.
This time, as Khukharr's eyes reopens, Resh’an adjusts his approach. "These people are adventurers on a very important mission and require your help," he states clearly, aiming to frame their request in a way that emphasized the urgency and necessity of their quest. After presenting the group in this new light, he steps back, adding simply, “Try again.”
Garl tries again. This time, the adjusted introduction seems to resonate better with Khukharr and he removes the barrier to let them finally enter Mesa Island.
“Thanks, Khukharr!” Garl exclaims, his ever-present smile brightening even further as the path onto Mesa Island clears.
As they begin their walk into the island, Serai shoots a sharp glare at Resh’an “You were lucky, Alchemist… If that hadn't worked now, after all the trouble we went through because of you..”
Resh’an hums calmly “I know what I’m doing and I kept my word… No need for hostility, Serai.”
Serai averts her gaze to walk past him, it was clear that she still doesn't trust him, let alone like him.
As the group makes their way through a thick forest, vibrant with autumn colors, the atmosphere is lightened by Zale and Garl's banter. The others, trailing a bit behind, tread more cautiously.
As they delve deeper, the forest grew denser, and a sudden, unnatural quiet falls over them, alerting Haru‘s instincts. She exchanges quick, knowing glances with Valere and Serai. Valere's hushed warning, "Something is not right," confirms Haru's fears.
Suddenly, the air splits with the sound of an arrow slicing through the quiet, aiming directly at Zale. He is laughing, still oblivious to the danger. “Zale!” Haru shouts, darting forward. Zale turns to look at her with a grin still on his face, only to freeze as an arrow halts inches from his left eye.
“Wh-what the hell??” Zale manages, his voice a mix of panic and surprise. He is still shocked that he almost got shot and stares in disbelief at Haru, who had just caught the arrow in mid-air, “Did…did you just catch that arrow with your bare hands?” He blurts out, a mix of fear and awe filling his expression
Haru tosses the arrow aside, visibly annoyed “Could you two please be more attentive to your surroundings? We're not on a hiking trip.” she scolds them sharply. Both men look sheepishly embarrassed by their earlier carelessness.
Meanwhile, Serai lunges toward the origin of the arrow and quickly neutralizes the archer hidden among the dense trees. Moments later, a lifeless body of a monster thuds to the forest floor. Perched on a branch, she surveys the area before calling out, “There are certainly more of them, hiding in the trees. We should be careful.” Without waiting, she moves on, eyes scanning for more threats.
Zale snaps out of his shock, his demeanor shifting to high alert. Another arrow whizzes through the air, this time deflected by Garl’s pot lid. More arrows follow, each met with hurried defenses.
Suddenly, more forest monsters begin to emerge from the shadows, their bodies cloaked in naturalistic garments that blended seamlessly with the forest floor. The ambush is well-planned, and the group found themselves surrounded by enemies.
"Are they coming from all sides now?" Valere says, her voice steady but alert as she scans the surroundings, ready to dodge more arrows.
Without hesitation, Haru draws her blade. With swift, precise movements, she dispatches three assassins blocking their path. She then leaps up into the trees with fluid agility. Turning back briefly, she addresses the group, "Serai and I will clear the trees to open the way. Just keep an eye out and dodge the arrows." In the blink of an eye, she vanishes into the dense foliage.
“Damn, they're everywhere...” Zale mutters in frustration as he ducks behind a tree, narrowly avoiding an arrow. He and the others block and dodge projectiles while engaging the enemies on the ground, relying on Haru and Serai to clear their path from above.
High in the trees, Haru and Serai move with lethal speed, eliminating hidden enemies with precise and rapid strikes. The dull thuds of lifeless bodies hitting the forest floor echo below, each sound a signal to the group that they can advance further. The forest soon becomes littered with the fallen foes they've overcome. Despite the chaos, the coordination between Haru, Serai, and the ground team cuts a swath through the walls of enemies.
Eventually, after battling through waves of attackers, they reach the edge of a clearing.
Zale, catching his breath, groans, “Oh please, I hope it is finally over….”
Valere, pointing towards a large leaf monster emerging in the center of the clearing, replies, “Hm, I think I’ll have to disappoint you there, Zale…”
Zale sighs dramatically “Oh, come on-” But before he can finish, Serai bursts from a portal, kunais in hand, darting between portals to engage the leaf monster with a flurry of strikes. Her movements are blurred as she poisons and slows the creature with precise shots.
Without missing a beat, Haru leaps from the tree she has perched in, drawing her katana in a fluid motion. With a powerful swing, she cleaves the leaf monster in two, the force of her strike scattering its leaves across the clearing like a burst of red and orange confetti. Watching the leaves dance through the air, the group is momentarily caught in awe.
Serai approaches Haru, bumping her fist against her shoulder “We make a pretty good combo, huh?” she remarks casually, though Haru can sense the genuine respect behind the words.
Chuckling as she sheathes her katana with a satisfied click, Haru nods in agreement. Garl adds with a carefree grin, “Yeah, that was superb teamwork, you two. Thanks for clearing the way for us.”
Zale slumps down onto a nearby tree trunk with an exhausted sigh, “Maybe we should take a break here before we continue…”
Garl laughs, sitting down next to him. “You sound like an old man, Zale. But yeah, you’re probably right. Who knows what comes next?"
Valere scoffs playfully, “Zale pretends he did all the work, but he spent most of his time hiding behind trees until Resh’an said it was safe.”
The group bursts into laughter, even as Zale protests, “That’s not true! I played my part, too…”
Resh’an joins in the teasing, adding his own amused comment “Indeed, you did an excellent job hiding behind those trees, Zale.”
Zale tries to maintain his annoyance by crossing his arms defensively, but fails to hide his amusement. “You’re laughing, but you didn’t almost get pierced by an arrow!” he argues, only to finally give in and join the laughter himself.
“Almost, Zale. You almost got hit, you whiny child,” Valere teases further.
Haru watches the friendly banter with a wink. “Don’t worry, Zale, I’ve got your back for the next assault as your personal bodyguard.“ she adds. Zale just rolls his eyes at their remarks.
After the short break, filled with banter and laughter, the group continues their journey through the rest of the forest. The sun almost sets when they make their way to a serene pond just outside the forest's edge. Deciding to call it a day, they set up their camp for the night by the tranquil waters.
Soon after they have settled and Garl begins to prepare their evening meal, Teaks joins them. The campfire crackles and pops, casting a warm glow as the group gathers around. They share food, the comfort of the fire warding off the evening chill, while Teaks captivates them with tales.
As Haru listens to the story, her attention drifts towards Resh'an who is sitting apart. As if sensing her gaze on him, Resh’an looks up, their eyes meeting in a silent acknowledgment that passes between them before Haru quickly looks away, feeling an unsettling mix of frustration, guilt and irritation.
Feeling a sudden need to escape the weight of that gaze, Haru averts her eyes and excuses herself from the warmth of the fire. Walking into the nearby forest, Haru seeks solace in the solitude of the silent night. As she settles on a branch far above the ground, she leans back against the trunk of the tree, letting out a long, weary sigh. The full moon hangs high in the sky, bathing the forest in a serene glow. Haru closes her eyes, allowing the tranquility of the night to envelop her. As she breathes in the cool, crips air, she tries to let go of the tumultuous events of the long day.
But the silence is soon broken by a deep, calm voice that resonates through the trees. "You have really become an excellent fighter.“
Haru's eyes flutter open to find Resh’an perched on an opposite branch, his legs swinging lightly, betraying his own discomfort. He seems lost in thought as he stares off into the distance.
Haru tilts her head “You sure that branch can hold you?” she asks him lightly, trying to lighten the mood, but the tension remains palpable, making her cringe with discomfort.
He ignores her teasing, instead he turns around to meet her gaze. “Tell me… Is there a particular reason for your behavior?”
Haru is caught off guard by his blunt question the piercing intensity of his gaze. She knows exactly what he means but she still deflects “What do you mean?”
He looks away, frustration lining his voice, “You know exactly what I mean, Haru... Acting like you don’t know me, avoiding me, trying to provoke me…”
The sound of her real name from his lips let her heart skip a beat, but his accusations snap her back to the present. She meets his gaze with a frown “Don't act so innocent, Resh’an. You've been playing your own manipulative games.” she retorted, her voice laced with annoyance and a hint of hurt.
Resh'an’s tone sharpened, his restraint evident. “Manipulative games? You're the one lying about your false identity. You might fool your friends, but not me.”
Haru lets out a scoff, her annoyance growing “Yes, you've made it quite clear you're not easily fooled. You knew I was hiding my identity, yet it seemed you enjoyed toying with my secret in front of the others”
“Is that what you think, that I’m merely toying with you?” Resh’an counters with a tense voice, pausing for a moment, the silence unbearable, before he continues, “I admit, my approach wasn’t the kindest, but sometimes... sometimes emotions get the better of us, especially when a friend you believed dead for eons treats you like a stranger.”
Haru is momentarily speechless, the weight of his words and the reality of her actions pressing down on her, the implications overwhelming her. She stammers, searching for the right words. “Resh’an, I didn’t mean to upset or hurt you... I thought you wouldn’t recognise me at first… and I-I…“
Resh’an cuts her off, his voice strained with emotions as his eyes meet hers again, “How can you even say that?“ His voice cracks slightly, betraying his usual composure, his eyes filled with hurt and frustration. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Do you have any idea how long I searched for you, hoping you had survived? And now, here you are, as if risen from the dead, turning away from me… As if we had never known each other… as if we were strangers”
Haru is stunned into silence, the sharpness of Resh’an’s words cutting through her like a knife. He was hurt, deeply, by her apparent indifference. It fills her with guilt and shame, as if she has failed him. Totally overwhelmed by his outburst, her voice is mere a whisper. “Resh’an, please… that’s not what I intended…I thought you had forgotten about me and I was upset and scared and…“
He tenses up at her words, closing his eyes “Scared, huh? I won’t deny that I’ve changed. I'm no longer the man you once knew…” his voice trails off as he looks back into the dark night.
She wants to disagree, to say that he’s wrong, but the words won't come. It's undeniable. He has changed – become colder, more reserved, distant. It's as if he's right before her yet miles away. He isn’t the man she used to know.
Breaking the heavy silence, Resh’an adds coldly, “Where were you all these millennia? Were you hiding from me the entire time?”
The accusation nearly breaks her. She closes her eyes to keep herself together. The memories of her silent imprisonment, sealed and hidden away not by choice but by force, still take a toll on her. How should she address this dark chapter of her past? Given the tense nature of the conversation, she doesn't feel ready to reveal that much just yet. She replies, her voice shaking, “I-I wasn’t hiding by choice, Resh’an…”
After a tense pause, he lets out a bitter chuckle. “Not by choice, you say?... Well, I suppose I still kind of deserved it after everything that happened,” he murmurs, bitterness lacing his words as he reflects on the irony of their fates.
Before Haru can gather her thoughts to respond, she opens her eyes and finds him gone. The swift departure makes the conversation feel surreal, like a fever dream fraught with pain and misunderstandings. She's frustrated that she couldn't find the right words and was just completely overwhelmed by the turmoil of emotions stirring inside her, making the experience even more painful.
He was apparently alone for a while, still believing she was dead, only to be rejected by her when they finally reunited after millennia. She wants to apologize… to tell him that she had been searching for him for decades but eventually gave up on hope.
She remains perched in the tree for a long while, grappling with the aftermath of their exchange, before finally making her way back to camp. When Haru arrives, she finds that everyone is asleep except for Resh'an, who hasn't been there. Settling down by the campfire, she stares into the flickering flames, the fire casting shadows that dance like specters of her troubled thoughts.
Millennia ago
Haru walked briskly through the corridors of the academy, a venerable institution adorned with exquisite ornaments that whispered tales of its ancient heritage. The halls buzzed with the chatter of students, each hurrying off to their next class. The academy was not just a place of learning; it was a cradle for innovation and exploration, a setting that Resh'an had chosen to share his profound expertise in alchemy, allowing him to mentor the minds of tomorrow while pursuing his own research.
As the clock edged toward noon, Haru approached Resh'an’s office. The muted buzz of academic activity seemed to fall away as she reached his door, a quiet sanctuary amid the hustle and bustle of the school day. She paused briefly before knocking softly.
“Come in” a muffled voice could be heard through the door.
Pushing the door open, Haru found Resh'an engulfed in a sea of scattered manuscripts, his focus tethered tightly to his work. “Morning…” she greeted, her voice echoing slightly in the cluttered space.
Without looking up, Resh'an murmured back, “Good morning.”
Observing the disarray of his current research spread across the desk, Haru sighed, walking over to him to brush some tomes and manuscripts aside, and hopped onto the edge of the desk. Resh'an finally looked up with a frown. “Hey, what are you—”
“You didn’t leave this room last night, did you?" Haru interrupted, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I told you to go home and rest… Did you manage to sleep at all?"
Caught in the act, Resh'an groaned. “No, I didn’t… I tried but I couldn’t sleep. I might as well keep working rather than just lie in bed tossing and turning.”
Haru let out a defeated sigh, but then her expression shifted to a playful smirk. "That excited, huh?"
"Of course I am! It's a great honor to be part of the council, especially as a non-Ovate," he replied defensively, his frown deepening slightly.
Haru laughed, a teasing sound that fills the messy room. "Give it two meetings, and you’ll be wishing you were anywhere else. Those old farts just drone on about the same old stuff."
Resh'an cracked a smile. "Maybe, but you know I'm better suited for intellectual debates than you.“
Haru flicked his forehead, feigning offense “Excuse me? You should watch your tongue, Alchemist. I've been on that council much longer than you"
He smirked at her “Or what? Should I prepare for your merciless onslaught? Maybe I should buy knee pads…” he teased, letting out a soft chuckle.
Surprised by his cheeky remark, Haru gasped. “You… You little ass…” She glared down at him, mock indignation painting her features.
Resh’an rose from his chair, his full height becoming evident as he leaned in close to Haru, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “Little? Are you projecting again, munchkin?” His voice was light, teasing, their gazes locked in a moment of playful confrontation.
Haru could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin as he regarded her with a tired yet mischievous expression. She maintained her glare, but found herself drawn into the depth of his warm brown eyes.
Suddenly, Resh'an broke the spell, stepping back with a soft chuckle. He reached out, patting her head affectionately. "You know I'm just teasing, right? You look so adorable when you're grumpy." He extended his hand with a playful grin. "Shall we?"
Still frowning, Haru mumbled something under her breath but accepted his hand, letting him help her off the desk. His touch sent a warm flutter through her chest.
Haru sighed deeply, her frown shifting to a mischievous smirk as she crossed her arms. “You're pretty cheeky today. But just remember, if those grandpas start boring you to tears, don't say I didn't warn you.”
Resh'an laughed, a sound that filled his office with warmth, while opening the door. "I'll take my chances. Besides, how bad can it be when you‘re there with me?" His soothing voice carried a hint of amusement as he opened the door, nodding for Haru to go first.
With a playful roll of her eyes, Haru walked through the door Resh’an held open. She tried to conceal it, but his comment left her with a warm, fuzzy feeling, a small smile unknowingly curving her lips. Together, they stepped out, heading toward what would be Resh'an's first council meeting with the Ovates.
Notes:
Thanks for reading :)
Chapter 10: Mesa Island II
Chapter Text
Present
Throughout the night, Teak's loud snoring constantly pulls Haru from her restless slumber, leaving her exhausted the next morning. But to her relief, Resh’an has returned, appearing as if he hasn’t left last night. The group lazily packs their belongings, everyone still groggy from the uncomfortable night spent on the hard floor. After a round of goodbyes to Teaks, the group continues their journey through the rich landscapes that Mesa Island offers.
Haru trudges behind the others with heavy steps. The weight of last night’s conversation settles like a lump in her stomach, compounded by the fatigue from a night marred by half-hearted sleep—half lost to distressing thoughts and half to Teak’s relentless snoring. Her mood is ruined and the emotions are storming just beneath the surface, threatening to break out.
She walks in silence, keeping her turmoil hidden from the group. Resh'an’s presence, just a few steps ahead, was a constant reminder of the conversation that ended so abruptly. And his behaviour only adds to her inner conflict. He has done nothing more than offer her empty, emotionless glances throughout the morning. Each indifferent look feels like a stab, wounding her more deeply than any argument could.
However, she knows she needs to talk to him again, to clear the air and perhaps salvage whatever remained of their once strong connection. The uncertainty of how to approach him, combined with the fear of his potential rejection, weighs heavily on her. The thought of Resh'an continuing to wall himself off was unbearable…and it’s all her fault.
Haru is so deep in her thoughts that she doesn't realize someone was trying to get her attention.
“Lyn?” Garl walks beside her, his tone laced with concern when he adds “Are you feeling alright?”
“What?” Haru blinks, looking a bit confused at Garl, who repeats his question. “Umm... I’m okay... just a bit tired,” she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper.
Garl’s laughter rings out, breaking the tension and lightening the mood. “I wonder why…?” he teases “But don't worry, you'll get used to Teaks’ snoring eventually.” He flashes a wide, reassuring grin.
“The next time, I’m just sleeping in the trees, like Serai.” Haru replies in a monotone voice, though her lips twitch up slightly.
“Or you could be like the old man here and use a portal to sleep in his Archives,” Zale calls back from the front of the group, gesturing toward Resh’an, who stops in his tracks and frowns.
“Excuse me, of all the names, you choose that one? I’d much rather you use my actual name or my titles than call me an old man!“
“Okay, Mister Immortal Alchemist!” Zale retorts with a teasing grin. Valere elbows him sharply in the side. “Zale!” she hisses, shooting a warning glance at him and nodding subtly towards Haru.
Zale’s face freezes. “Oh, I mean, Mister Alchemist,” he corrects himself, his smile faltering as he tries to regain his composure.
Amused by their efforts to shield Resh’an’s identity, Haru can’t hold back a snort any longer. “It’s fine. I already know who he is anyway.”
Valere looks surprised “You do? But how?” she narrows her eyes at her suspiciously.
Haru, realizing she needs to provide a plausible explanation, quickly improvises “Yeah, I umm… I read his story in Teaks’ book when everyone was asleep. And based on his looks and skills, I just put two and two together,” she explains with a casual shrug, hoping her companions would accept the explanation.
Resh’an glances briefly at Haru, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he turns away without a word, his attention shifting back to Valere and Zale.
Zale, relieved that the secret was out and no longer a burden to him, hums in satisfaction. "Oh, that explains everything..." he sighs, a mix of defeat and relief in his voice. "It was a real pain having to hide it all the time anyway…"
Garl chimes in with a nonchalant shrug “I guess it’s only fair since she's traveling with us. She would have figured it out eventually.”
Resh’an crosses his arms and lets out a deep sigh “I'd still appreciate it if you managed not to tell anyone else, Zale.”
“No probs, oldie, I keep my mouth shut when it matters. Your secret is safe with me…” Zale responded casually, waving off the concern with a carefree gesture. After a brief pause, he turns back to the group. "But honestly, why can't we all just sleep in the Archives? It's got to be better than sleeping out here in the wild."
Valere, visibly annoyed by Zale’s lack of boundaries, furrows her brows “Don't invite yourself to other people's places, Zale...” she pushes him lightly to keep moving.
Eventually, the group comes across a mouldy swamp. As they walk through the muggy path, its thick mud clings to their boots and an eerie fog settles over the landscape. The array of mushrooms dotting the landscape gives the area a peculiar, otherworldly feel.
As the group pushes through the dense, mushroom-strewn swamp, they stumble upon a secluded cottage, its quaint appearance marked by a solitary pear tree bursting with fruit.
The group approaches the small cottage carefully. Garl takes the lead and knocks at the weathered door, but receives no response. He peers through the window, turning back to the group with a puzzled look. “Do you think someone lives here?”
Zale shrugs, his eyes scanning the building. “No idea…”
Suddenly, a loud clatter from behind the cottage startles them. As they whip around, an old lady with striking green hair appears, walking around the house with a slightly grim expression “Welcome, welcome…I am Yomara, a simple hermit”
Serai draws her daggers reflexively “Yeah, we’ve already met your sister…” she says tensely, ready to engage.
Yomara raises her hands in a gesture of peace. “Please, there’s no need for that tone. My sister’s evil ways are precisely that. My sisters. I am but a neutral observer in the affairs of this world”
After a short moment, Serai reluctantly sheathes her daggers. The silence that follows is pierced by Garl's inquisitive voice “You’re a seer, aren’t you? Does that mean we’re getting a prophecy again?” His expression is filled with a mix of jest and genuine curiosity.
“The Warrior Cook. I have been expecting you. Please, eat a fruit from my tree.” Yomara says, gesturing toward a basket filled with ripe pears.
“Really? Don’t mind if I do!” Garl doesn’t hesitate, walking over to pluck a pear from the basket. After taking a bite, his eyes lit up. “The taste is unbelievable! What are they called?”
Haru tilts her head in curiosity “Those are pears Garl… Did you never have one?”
Garl shrugs sheepishly “No, unfortunately not. But know that I know how they taste, I’m definitely up for more!”
Serai cuts in sharply “So…That’s it? Garl just ate the fruit and nothing?” her eyes narrow suspiciously at Yomara.
Yomara turns to face Serai once more, her expression neutral “Yes. The threads of fate seldom speak to me about the near future. I only deal in the cataloguing of grander arcs. My apologies but I have no insights for you.”
The group looks somewhat dumbfounded, clearly expecting more from the encounter than just witnessing Garl enjoy a pear.
As Yomara walks past Resh’an and Haru to head back to her cottage, she halts abruptly, a spark of recognition flashing across her face. She eyes Resh’an and Haru intently. “You.” She says, her voice a mix of certainty and curiosity “You are…” she trails off, a thoughtful frown creasing her forehead before she briskly turns towards the cottage. “Why don’t you two come in for a bit? Your companions can rest outside at the campfire in the meanwhile.”
Haru hesitates, feeling the weight of her friends’ curious stares. Seeing Resh’an step towards the cottage without any doubts encourages her to follow. They enter the small home and are immediately enveloped by the earthy aroma of herbs and the musty, comforting scent of old books—a stark contrast to the dampness of the swamp outside.
Inside, the cottage is cramped but cozy, with walls lined with shelves brimming with books and various oddities. Haru and Resh’an stand silently in the center of the room, watching as Yomara approaches one of the cluttered bookshelves.
“Now, which volume was it?” Yomara mutters to herself, her fingers tracing the spines of numerous books. “Probably somewhere with my older works” She rummages through her collection and continues to mumble “I was really overthinking titles back then…”
After a moment, she pulls out a thick, dust-covered book “Ah… there it is! Ethereal Occurrences Vol. 2. Let’s see here” she murmurs, flipping through the aged pages until she finds what she is looking for. With a swift pivot, she faces them again “Immortal Alchemist, step forward!”
Resh’an, clearly taken aback, looks at her with a mix of surprise and scepticism. “Excuse me? A prophecy? For me?”
Yomara huffs slightly, her expression firm. “You can fancy yourself a god if you like, but you remain bound by fate all the same.”
Nodding, perhaps a bit reluctantly, Resh’an steps forward. Haru watches the exchange with a growing sense of intrigue.
Yomara's voice resonates deeply through the small room. “Now listen up. During your travels with these young adventurers, you will meet the dead of a forgotten race. Among them will be one asking to fight alongside Solstice Warriors. Be welcoming, for this entity’s unbreakable will is the key to achieving the one great feat of alchemy that eludes you still.”
Resh’an reflects the weight of her words before answering “You mean…” He stands still, probably absorbing the implications, before finally responding with reverence. “Thank you, Crone of the Marsh.”
Yomara, however, is already turning back to her vast collection of books, her attention swiftly shifting “I have one more… for our Ovate here.” She beckons Haru with a gesturing hand, signalling her to come closer.
With a nod, Haru steps forward to join the old hermit at her cluttered desk.
Yomara pulls out another volume, ancient and bound in leather. “The Ovates of Seasons,” she announces as she places it on the desk. She flips through the weathered pages until she finds what she is looking for. “Ah… Here it is…” She skims the text briefly, then looks up to meet Haru’s slightly nervous gaze.
“The endless flight from your darkest fear is futile, especially when it is bound to catch up with you soon.” Yomara says, her tone imbued with a deep knowing. “Within you, wind maiden, pulses the ancient power of a lost civilization. Harness this formidable power, and you might yet bind him temporarily, echoing the shackles he once cast upon you.”
Haru’s eyes widen, a mix of fear and realization dawning on her. The implications of Yomara’s words are clear and daunting. Is she truly meant to confront and seal the man who has destroyed her family and her civilization? The same man who had sealed her within a crystal, rendering her a mere spectator to her own twisted thoughts? He isn't just any evil, he is the Fleshmancer - extremely talented and powerful, and it seems that not even Resh'an could stop him. Her heart races as panic begins to set in, the enormity of the task before her overwhelming her senses.
Haru stands there, grappling with her fear and the sudden burden of expectations, as Yomara watches her, an inscrutable expression on her wrinkled face.
How could she, who has twice failed to oppose him and has felt so powerless against him, now be expected to wield such formidable power? And she is alone, the last Ovate, who has not even mastered her secondary aspect, the water element. The task seems impossible, demanding more than she feels she could give. She has never felt so useless.
Resh’an’s voice, calm and respectful, pulls Haru back from the edge of her anxious thoughts. “Thank you again for your valuable insights,” he says, bowing slightly to Yomara, his demeanor indicating readiness to depart from the hermit’s mysterious abode. Quickly collecting herself, Haru follows suit, bowing slightly as well “Thanks, Yomara…” She takes a few steps back.
Yomara searches for something in her cupboard and approaches them, a small key in her hand. “Here is the key to progress further, you’ll need it to open the door to the south,” she explains, handing it to Resh’an.
After the exchange, Yomara returns to her bookshelves, turning her back to them as if to signify the end of their conversation. But just as the two turn to leave, her voice reaches out once more, halting them in their tracks. “Fate has brought you two together after being apart for a long time. But it’s clear this is merely the beginning of your journey together. I would recommend that you work together, rather than drift apart, even if time and past events have driven a wedge between you.” Her words hang in the air, laden with meaning and unspoken truths. “That was everything for now… Be well, you two.”
Resh’an and Haru exchange a brief glance, a silent acknowledgment of the meaning of Yomara’s advice, before leaving.
As Resh'an and Haru step out of the cottage and back to the campfire, their companions look up expectantly. “And? Did anything important come out of it? Did she give you a prophecy?“ Garl asks while leaning forward, his curiosity barely contained.
Resh’an responds, his voice as calm and measured as ever. “Nothing that is really crucial for our current journey… But she gave us a key to open the gate in the south. Shall we?“
The group exchanges glances, their expressions a mix of disappointment and intrigue. They clearly expected more dramatic revelations.
“Why did she ask Lyn to join her too?” Serai suddenly interjects, “she said that she would only catalogue grander arcs. That makes sense for you as an immortal, but what about her?”
All eyes turn to Haru, who feels a rush of panic. Fuck, what should she say now? “Umm, I actually-”
But Resh’an smoothly steps in, sparing her from the need to concoct a story on the spot “Yomara could tell that Haru was from another world and was interested in her insights and impressions from other realms.”
Haru tenses up immediately, feeling the weight of their stares - especially Serai’s penetrating gaze. She curses Resh’an internally as the group falls silent. Then, breaking the quiet with a dramatic sigh, Zale throws his hands up “Then Garl was actually right!” he groans “and with that, we owe him a whole evening of free drinks at the next tavern…“
Haru tilts her head, a puzzled frown forming. “What??” she exclaims bewildered. Did they actually… “You…made a bet about me?”
Zale meets her gaze, grinning mischievously. “Of course. You, Serai, and the old man here are so secretive about yourselves that we ended up making bets over drinks.”
Serai rolls her eyes in annoyance while Resh’an clears his throat sharply at the nickname Zale tossed his way, causing Zale to shrug apologetically.
Strangely enough, her companions seem satisfied with this explanation. Haru doesn’t object or add anything more, quietly relieved to let Resh’an’s words stand without further probing. However, Serai’s look doesn’t seem entirely convinced.
The tension is palpable as the group finally approaches the majestic Clockwork Castle. The massive structure, with its red-brick facade and intricate clockwork gears that move in perfect sync, casts a looming shadow over the desert landscape as the sun begins to set.
As they reach the grand entrance, the gate creaks open unexpectedly, revealing two figures stepping out - Erlina and Brugaves, the Solstice Warriors who have previously betrayed Zale and Valere. The sight of them ignites immediate hostility.
“Erlina, Brugaves…” Zale's voice is laced with anger as he hisses “What are you doing here!”
Erlina maintains a calm demeanor and responds coolly. “We are bound by oath not to let you enter the Acolytes headquarters…”
“And what about your oath as Solstice Warriors?” Valere retorts sharply, her frustration evident.
Erlina clicks her tongue in annoyance and narrows her eyes “That one was not taken willingly…”
“Valere, please hear me out…” Brugaves interjects, his tone pleading and his expression desperate.
Valere, however, is not in a mood to listen. “Step aside right now!” she yells, her patience worn thin.
Erlina glances at Brugaves with a stern look. “What did I say? Stick to the plan, Brugaves… The Dweller will knock some sense into them.” But Brugaves, who seems conflicted and hesitant, merely shakes his head in frustration. “Fine…We only need to buy some time, so please just surrender. Zale and Valere… we really don’t want to fight you…”
“Forget it!” Zale shouts back, pulling out his blade. As Brugaves and Erlina ready themselves for battle, the atmosphere tenses further, prompting the others to prepare for a confrontation. Haru's hand instinctively moves to the hilt of her katana, but then Zale turns round and addresses the group “This is our fight. Please stay out of this!”
Haru, slightly taken aback by Zale's request, looks confused for a moment but then nods and steps aside with the rest of the group, respecting the personal nature of the confrontation before her. She wouldn't want anyone to interfere in her conflicts either. The tension in the air is palpable as the four stand there, ready to go at each other's throats.
While all eyes are fixed on the fight before them, Resh’an suddenly takes Haru’s arm and pulls her aside. “Hey, we can’t just leave them alone, Resh’an. What if something happens?” she hisses at him with a low voice, trying to free herself from his grip.
Despite Haru's whispered protests, Resh'an guides her further away with an urgency that left no room for arguments. Once they are secluded, he faces her, his eyes filled with earnest seriousness.
“Haru, what did Aephorul do to you?” His question cut through the air between them, his voice calm yet carrying an underlying tension that betrays his deep concern.
Haru is caught off guard by the directness of his inquiry. Why would he bring up such a delicate question in the middle of a fight? “Resh’an… Now is not the right time to discuss things like that.” She responds defensively. “We need to go back!” She tugs at her arm, trying to pull away, but Resh’an’s hold, though gentle, was insistent.
“I don’t care if it’s the right time or not. You’re hiding things that could be significant to me too, Haru.” he insists with a firm voice and pauses for a moment. “They’ll be fine, okay?“ he tries to reassure her, his plea evident as he continues. “Haru… please talk to me.” his eyes suddenly soften, begging her to say something as he releases her arm.
Haru sighs, her resistance crumbling under his earnest request. She now has the opportunity to fix things, so she probably should make use of it. She averts her eyes, unable to hold his gaze as she confesses in a quiet and slightly shaky voice, “Aephorul… After he killed and destroyed everything, he spared my life but sealed me away in a crystal, hidden in a secret place where no one could find me. I woke up decades ago and managed to escape“
A heavy silence envelops them as Resh'an absorbs her words, his eyes locked on hers, unblinking and intense. A whirlwind of emotions runs through them, dominated by anger and guilt. He clenches his hands into fists, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks hesitantly, his voice trembling slightly with unspoken emotions, “Is… this why you...” He trails off, unable to finish.
Haru simply nods in affirmation, still feeling guilty that she tried to keep her distance from him. After a brief pause, she continues, her voice barely above a whisper, “I had to keep myself under the radar because he was chasing me, so another identity was the best solution… I made the mistake of being too careless once, and my friends paid with their lives to save me from Aephorul…”
“So, it was you…” His voice is barely above a whisper. “You were the one who fled decades ago through a portal when Aephorul broke the truce by killing Solstice Warriors.”
Haru’s eyes widen in shock and realisation “How… How do you know that?” she stammers.
“Because I was there when he broke it,” Resh'an explains, his gaze intense and unwavering as he looks at her. “I arrived probably a few moments after you fled… Everything felt so off at that moment. I tried to find clues about you, but you were registered as a nameless identity in my Archives. I almost gave up, until I saw another nameless person interacting with Zale and Valere on their journey again…” He pauses, seeming to gather his thoughts. “That’s actually why I decided to join them,” he admits, his eyes briefly darting away before locking back onto hers.
The weight of his words hits her like a tidal wave. Not only did they almost meet again, but he has also joined their current group because he suspected she might be among them. Her heart clenches as waves of guilt and regret wash over her. She just feels so miserable. He never deserved any of this.
She lowers her gaze, unable to meet his eyes. “Resh’an… I didn’t know. I’m so, so sorry… After I woke up, I tried to find you, but I had no idea what had happened or where to begin. After a while, I just… gave up hope and…“ Her voice falters, choked with emotions.
“Haru… please don’t apologize“ Resh’an says with a reassuring voice, his expression filled with sympathy and grief. His tone is soothing, calming Haru’s turmoiled thoughts and suddenly making her heart race. He reaches out to comfort her, but before his hand can touch hers, a sudden loud noise interrupts the tender moment, making both jump slightly.
As Haru looks at Resh'an, a silent understanding passes between them. They turn towards the source of the noise and head back to their companions. Arriving at the scene, the first sight that greets them is Erlina and Brugaves on the ground, apparently defeated.
Erlina, with a mix of defiance and pain, hisses through clenched teeth. “Don’t think that you’ve won. This is just the beginning“ She tries to push herself up, her movements are shaky and uncertain. “Just wait for the Dweller” Brugaves quickly moves to her side to help her up. Together, they walk away, supporting each other. The group watches their retreat in silence, leaving behind a tense and charged atmosphere.
After a heavy pause, Zale breaks the silence with a firm tone, “We should go in.” Without waiting for a response, he turns and strides toward the entrance of the Clockwork Castle. The others are following behind without saying a word. Garl just places a comforting hand on Valere’s shoulder as they walk into the massive building.
Notes:
Thank you for reading :)
Chapter 11: Unveiling
Notes:
It's been a while... the chapter took a bit longer than expected :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
As the group walks through the corridors of the Clockwork Castle, the tension of the recent confrontation with Erlina and Brugaves still hangs heavily in the air. The interior of the castle mirrors the mechanical and intriguing exterior - each room filled with intricate clockwork mechanisms and each area a testament to complex engineering and dark aesthetics. The castle is infested with Aephorul's creations, rendering all attacks ineffective except for the Solar and Lunar magic wielded by Zale and Valere.
As they delve deeper into the castle, the group eventually enters a large hall that resembles a workshop - with quite an unsettling sight: small children, hunched over workbenches, meticulously assembling various devices and tools. The clinking and clanking of metal fill the room, yet the children’s focus remains unbroken by the group’s entrance.
"What the hell?" Haru murmurs, her voice a mix of surprise and confusion at the unexpected sight of child slavery. Aephorul really has no mercy left. But what did she expect from that bastard…
As Haru moves closer to get a better look at the children, she realises something is amiss. These are no ordinary children. Wrinkles crease their foreheads and around their eyes. Their facial expressions suggest an advanced age, clearly much older than the rest of their physical appearance indicates. The children seem utterly absorbed in their tasks, their hands moving with practiced precision, unaffected by the presence of the newcomers. It almost seems as if they are entranced, or perhaps compelled by some unseen force to continue their labour regardless of their surroundings.
Suddenly, one of the ‘children’ approaches them. His hair is stark white and despite his small stature his face also bears the wrinkles of age, creating a surreal contrast. “Oh, I didn’t expect we would have visitors,” he says, his voice clearly that of an elder.
"Nice to meet you! I’m Garl and these are my friends," Garl introduces the group with his broad smile, gesturing to the rest of the group, who offer nods and tentative smiles in return.
“Hi everyone… I’m Caël” the childlike figure responds.
Garl hesitates for a moment but then asks “I hope it’s not rude to ask but are you a human?”
Caël chuckles, the sound contrasting sharply with his youthful appearance. "Pretty wrinkly for a kid, huh? My friends and I have been ten years old for a veeery long time," he remarks with a wry smile.
Haru looks startled. "How is that possible?"
“Time… It doesn't pass within this castle. Or rather, it doesn’t affect the bodies of its residents," Caël explains, scratching his jaw thoughtfully. “We cannot die a natural death, but we are bound to stay here forever. If we were to leave, we would instantly age and perish.”
“So, as long as you stay in here, you won’t get older?” Haru inquires, her interest piqued. It reminds her of her own crystal prison - without the instant aging.
“That’s right," Caël nods. "It’s fascinating, yet quite hard to comprehend, isn’t it? This time prison has been our home for centuries."
The group looks at him with a mixture of empathy and pity.
"It’s fine… We actually like it here. Plus, we get to be kids forever. How cool is that?" Caël tries to put a positive spin on their fate. "Even though we didn't necessarily want to make machines for the bad guys, we simply had no other choice at the time… But it sure beats the alternative…" His voice trails off as his gaze drifts to Serai, a silent, knowing exchange passing between them.
The group remains silent, each person likely mulling over the same somber thoughts. It is a sad reality to digest—they have made significant sacrifices, staying here, trapped in children's bodies within this sinister castle, forced to accept their fate. Haru tries to fight off the turmoil of emotions building up inside her.
Breaking the heavy silence without turning from his work, Caël’s voice cuts through the air, "So, what exactly brings you to the former residence of the Fleshmancer?"
"We came to confront the Acolytes and take down the Dweller of Strife," Garl announces with a mix of enthusiasm and determination.
Caël spins around with a swift movement, clearly interested “Really? But for that, you need to get through this big door here leading to the ritual room…” He nods toward a formidable door nearby. “And to open that, you’ll need the master key from the Watchmaker atop the clock tower.” He gestures towards another door, then continues, “And to reach that, you must break the magic seal on the door leading to the clock tower… To sum it up, you’re out of luck.” He walks back to the group, examining the Solstice children more closely. “And what makes you think you can defeat a Dweller, anyway?”
“They’re Solstice Warriors.” Haru states simply, nodding toward Zale and Valere.
The simple declaration immediately sparks interest among the ageless children, who suddenly stop their work and run over. “Really?” one child asks, eyes wide with wonder. “Prove it! Bring the night!”
Without hesitation, Valere and Zale raise their right arms toward the sky, ‘doing the thing’ to invoke their power. The natural light filtering through the windows dims and gets replaced by the serene glow of moonlight.
The children gasp in unison, their faces lit by the moon’s soft light. “Woaaahhh. That’s amazing!” one child exclaims, while another adds with sparkling eyes, “Did you see that?”
"Since when can they do that?" Haru looks perplexed at the two Solstice Warriors while talking to Resh'an who was standing right next to her.
Resh'an observes the pair. "Oh, I provided them with an artefact to change daytime and summon a solar eclipse whenever they need it."
Haru says nothing, merely glancing at him for a moment before turning her attention back to Valere and Zale, who were demonstrating their skill to the children. The youngsters watch the pair, they are completely awestruck by the display.
Meanwhile, Caël approaches a pedestal holding a light purple crystal. “Valere, was it?” he calls, gesturing her over. “Please, touch this crystal.” he instructs. Valere hesitates, a mix of curiosity and caution in her expression, but she moves toward the pedestal.
"Ummm… Is this safe?" Valere asked, eyeing the crystal warily.
Caël shrugs nonchalantly. “Don’t know.”
Before Valere can respond, Zale encourages her, “Come on, Valere. Just touch it.”
Rolling her eyes at the lack of safety assurance, Valere reluctantly reaches out and touches the crystal. Instantly, a laser bursts forth, striking the flesh seal on the door and shattering it.
The children jump back in surprise, their eyes wide as they witness the unexpected display of power “Oh my god, it worked!” one shouts. Another one points at Caël, exclaiming, “You’re a genius, Caël!”
“What was that?” Serai blurts out, startled by the sudden display.
Caël, looking at the effects with a mixture of satisfaction and contemplation, responds casually, “The proof that eclipse magic can be catalyzed. This means… This experiment changes everything.”
“What are you implying?" asks Haru, sensing the gravity of his statement.
Caël's response is filled with a sense of purpose and a hint of excitement. "We might have a weapon that helps you fight against the Dweller of Strife.” He lets the words sink in and then he adds “You can enter the clock tower now… Get the master key while we finish our preparations." He claps his hands together, a determined grin spreading across his face and his eyes sparkling with mischief. "The Acolytes are in for a surprise! Haha!"
“This…This is amazing!” Garl replies with a wide grin “We could use all the help we can get! Thank you so much, Mister Caël!“
Caël laughs wryly and scratches his cheek, clearly flustered by the gratitude. “Now, now… Just go and get that key while we prepare the device for you.”
The climb to the Watchmaker's workshop tested everyone's endurance, the seemingly endless stairs drawing more than a few complaints from the group. Zale tries to lighten the mood, panting slightly "Gods, good thing Teaks isn't with us. She would whine like a baby… So many stairs"
"You mean whine like you are now, Zale?" Valere retorts, her voice echoing slightly ahead of him. Zales shoots her a glare, while Garl laughs, breathless and clearly struggling for air.
Haru, trailing right behind the trio, adds dryly, “It gets worse when you talk…” Her comment draws a wheezing laugh from Garl, who turns to shoot her an agreeing smile, clearly out of breath. Haru gives him an encouraging push forward.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they reach the top. The group enters the Watchmaker’s workshop, a room cluttered with clocks of all sizes, their constant ticking resonating through the air. Haru wasn’t sure whether she found the constant ticking calming or annoying.
The Watchmaker who is engrossed in her work, doesn’t even look up as they enter. Haru approaches cautiously, her voice tinged with hesitation, "Excuse me… Are you the Watchmaker?" But the Watchmaker remains silent, continuing her intricate work. Before Haru can attempt to speak again, Garl steps forward. “Look, we need the master key from you in order to-”
“Whatever you may need, I take no part in any conflict,” the Watchmaker interjects sharply, cutting him off without even a glance in their direction.
An awkward silence falls over the group, punctuated only by the ceaseless ticking of clocks. Suddenly, a key drops from above on the floor with a light thud, startling everyone. They all turn to locate the source of the noise.
Zale stares at the key that has unexpectedly landed in front of him, his eyebrows arching in surprise. “Is this the key we need?”
“Quite peculiar, how it happened to appear just like that…” the Watchmaker comments, her tone laced with mock curiosity.
Haru watches the Watchmaker, trying to understand her motives, but then she shrugs it off. “Well…thanks I guess.” That went smoother than expected.
With the master key now in their possession, the group makes their way back to the tinkering workshop. As they enter, Caël approaches with a plan already forming.
“You’re back, perfect,” Caël says, his eyes scanning the group. “While you engage the Acolytes behind that door, we’ll sneak the device past the ritual room.”
"Are you sure this will work?" Valere asks Caël, her voice tinged with concern as they prepare to move forward.
Caël pauses, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Now that we've confirmed Eclipse Magic can be catalyzed, absolutely," he replies with renewed confidence. With a nod from Caël, the group proceeds through the door, stepping into a chamber that sends a chill down their spines. The room is filled with grotesque, fleshy abominations that seem to writhe in the dim light. At the center of the chaos is a pulsating, fleshy giant lump that seems to throb with a sinister life of its own.
The Acolytes, who are standing in front of the pulsating flesh, turn to face the group, their expressions unamused. “You are a bit early, I’m afraid,” taunts the one wielding two blades. “The Dweller of Strife isn’t ready to play just yet…”
“Good for us,” Serai retorts sharply.
“You think you can fight all four of us at once? Pathetic,” sneers another Acolyte, scanning the group.
As they notice Resh'an among the group, a visible shudder of intimidation passes through them. Their momentary hesitation doesn't go unnoticed as they recognise the Immortal Alchemist.
“What? Scared now?” Haru mocks, confidently sheathing her blade.
“Silence, you lower creature,” hisses the magician Acolyte, bristling with anger as he readies himself for the fight.
Meanwhile, Caël and the children nonchalantly walk past the encounter with their laser weapon, startling the Acolytes “What are you doing Caël. Get back to your workshop, immediately!” commands the broad Acolyte.
“Hey, you've got bigger problems than them!” Valere snaps, ready to kick their asses.
The ensuing fight proves less challenging than expected. Haru relies entirely on her combat skills, careful not to use her wind powers for fear of drawing undue attention from Aephorul's Acolytes—or worse, Aephorul himself. But just as the fight concludes, the fleshy lump that the Acolytes were desperately guarding begins to hatch. In a flash, the Dweller bursts forth, demolishing the wall and soaring away into the sky.
"Shit, we need to hurry. If we run now, there's still a chance," Zale urges, sprinting towards the stairs, the group following behind.
However, as they gather to leave the building, Resh'an momentarily halts them with a serious tone, "Remember, I can’t assist you in this fight. I’m not allowed to touch the Dweller.”
“But…” Garl begins, only to be swiftly interrupted by Serai’s sharp retort, “We understand, Alchemist. You won’t help us.”
Resh'an exhales deeply, frustration mixing with resignation. “I've explained my restrictions... and you agreed to these terms.”
The group nods somberly and begins to leave the building. Haru pauses to glance back at Resh’an, but just as she turns to follow the others, he reaches out to place his hand on her shoulder. “Haru, stay back with me. It’s safer,” he implores.
Haru stares bewildered at him “I didn’t plan on just sitting back and watching my friends fight the Dweller, Resh’an. That’s a big no for me.”
Resh’an’s expression tightens, his concern evident. “Haru-”
“No,” she cuts him off, her voice resolute. “I understand that your involvement has consequences, but I won’t just stand aside.” she strides past him to the balcony of the tower.
She walks out onto the balcony of the tower, joining the rest of the group as they cross the bridge connected to the adjacent tower where the device is set up for the fight. From their vantage point, they can see the Dweller swirling through the sky, its movements erratic and swift as if driven by an unseen frenzy.
As Caël and the children finish setting up the device, the atmosphere was charged with a mix of anticipation and tension.
Caël briefs the group quickly, “Just fight the Dweller as hard as you can. The crystal will absorb some of your Eclipse magic. When it's fully charged, it will fire. Good luck with the Dweller.” He then praises his team, “Nicely done, everyone. The device is perfectly calibrated.” With a nod, he leads the children away, leaving the group to finally face the Dweller.
“We can’t do much, but we’ll support you however we can. Right, Serai and Lyn?” Garl looks to them for confirmation. They nod, and Resh’an, who had been silent, finds a spot on the ground to sit, watching the scene unfold with intense focus. Haru exchanges one last glance with him before turning her attention to the battle ahead.
As the Dweller emerges, the team braces themselves. Valere and Zale unleash their Solar and Lunar magic, attacking vigorously in a stunning display of their powers. However, they quickly realize that their powers alone are insufficient to inflict significant damage. They need the device to work.
Finally, when the device is fully charged by the Lunar and Solar magic cast during the battle, it unleashes a powerful beam onto the Dweller, striking it with a force that visibly shook the creature.
“It’s working! Keep it up!” Valere shouts, encouraging everyone.
The Dweller, enraged by the pain, repeatedly smashes itself against the tower, causing the structure to tremble with each impact. The group persists, Valere and Zale coordinating their magic attacks to charge the device again and again. Each successful strike from the device seems to sap the Dweller of its strength, but the creature's fury only intensifies.
After several cycles of charging and firing the device, the Dweller is now visibly weakened but far from defeated. It enters a state of frenzy and begins to smash its head against the tower with increased ferocity, until the building started to rumble violently.
Haru scans the surroundings in panic as the tower begins to shake ominously. "Oh, shit... This is not good," she mutters under her breath.
Suddenly, the tower can no longer withstand the creature's battering and the entire structure begins to collapse. The ground beneath them gives way, and the entire group is thrown into a freefall as the whole tower crumbles.
The last thing Haru feels is the harsh blow of a stone brick against her head, knocking her out immediately.
Everything turns black.
When Haru wakes up, the desert landscape around her comes into clearer focus. She is alone and not in the Clockwork Castle anymore. As she stands up slowly, she could feel her head throbbing painfully and her body aches with every movement. “Fuuuck” she whispers to herself, her voice hoarse.
Suddenly, a gentle hand on her shoulder causes her to turn around and make her gasp in shock. There stands Resh’an, but bizarrely has no head - his turban sits empty atop what appears to be just a shell. Quickly, Haru realizes this must be some kind of puppet or clone. The puppet observes Haru as if checking on her, yet it remains silent, likely due to the absence of a mouth.
The puppet's actions are deliberate, its hand on her shoulder gentle yet firm, conveying a silent message of reassurance and care, despite its disconcerting appearance. The realization that this is likely a magical construct - a clone or decoy crafted by Resh'an as a safeguard or to extend his presence - slowly settles in.
"What the…" Haru is both dumbfounded and surprised. Resh’an has clearly learned new tricks; he was always talented, and it is evident that Aephorul envied him for that. She wonders just how powerful he has actually become. She continues to observe the puppet for a bit longer, its headless form scanning her body as if to ensure she is unharmed. Her mind is still foggy, her head throbbing, until reality kicks finally in. The Dweller, her friends, Resh’an... Where are they? And where the hell is she?
Haru looks up and sees the Clockwork Castle towering above her with its damaged tower. “Ah right, the tower… it collapsed.” She murmurs to herself, piecing together what happened on the tower before her blackout.
Driven by the urgency to find her friends, Haru moves forward, hoping they are all safe and sound. She scans her surroundings for any sign of her companions, but finds nothing. Suddenly, the puppet taps her shoulder and points in a specific direction, silently signalling her to follow.
It isn’t long before distant voices carry over the wind. The puppet guides Haru toward a cliff high on the mountain. A wave of relief washed over her at the sight of her friends, but it is quickly tempered as her gaze drifts to Resh’an. He is engaged in a conversation with a person that sends a cold shiver down her spine, making her heart race in panic.
“Aephorul…” Haru's breath catches in her throat, her eyes locked on the figure that has haunted her nightmares for ages.
The sight of Aephorul, so close to her friends, ignites a flurry of emotions within Haru—fear, anger, and an overwhelming sense of urgency. But he isn't attacking; he’s just talking to Resh’an. His demeanor is calmer and more collected, almost diplomatic, which is in stark contrast to the chaos of her last encounter with him. What could they possibly be discussing?
"An eye for an eye then, Resh'an?" Aephorul's voice booms, dripping with dominance.
"A single hit. That’s the deal," Resh'an replies, his calmness a stark contrast to Aephorul's mocking tone.
Aephorul snorts amused “Why? Afraid that your little friends can’t take more?”
Haru looks puzzled, trying to comprehend what’s happening. What the hell are they talking about? Is he going to-
"Do your worst. You’re nothing but a loser," Garl snaps, his anger flaring uncontrollably.
Haru’s eyes widen. “Oh fuck, Garl, what are you doing” she whispers under her breath, the panic rising inside of her.
Resh’an’s eyes widen in shock “Garl!”
"Well…as you please, weak boy." Aephorul laughs cruelly
As Aephorul prepares his spell, Zale and Valere brace themselves to take the hit. Suddenly, Garl shouts, "Watch out!" and shoves both aside to throw himself in front of them.
Haru's heart sinks. Garl has no magic to protect himself; he'll take the full force of the blast and he definitely won’t make it. He’s going to die. Her mind is a whirlwind of panic and despair. She cannot lose another friend, not again. She glances desperately at Resh'an, but he remains still. A mixture of anger and fear surges through her veins. How can he just stand by and watch?
Haru has no choice. She needs to act. Now.
The deadly spell from Aephorul is already flying towards Garl, who stands defiant but defenseless. Suddenly, the air crackles with the sound of a thunderclap, and a blur of motion intercepts the spell. A figure, swift and precise, conjures a storm shield with a quick hand motion. The shield meets the spell head-on, the collision unleashing an explosive force. The impact is immense, the shield not only blocking the spell but deflecting its energy with such force that it creates a shockwave of air pressure that wipes out all the surrounding vegetation. The group struggles to maintain their footing as the ground trembles and the air roars around them.
As the dust settles and the echoing rumble fades, the sky darkens ominously, heavy clouds swirling as if responding to the unleashed power. All eyes turn to the figure now standing protectively in front of Garl - Haru. She is surrounded by crackling elemental energy, her presence electrifying the air itself, resonating with the brewing storm above.
The shock on the faces of Valere, Zale, Garl, and Serai is clearly visible as they take in the sight of their friend who is wielding powers that rivalled the storm itself. Before anyone can recover from what has just happened, Aephorul’s mocking laughter slices through the tension. “And who do we have here? What a pleasant surprise, Haru… It looks like you've finally taken your wind and lightning manipulation to the next level.” he sneers, his voice dripping with irritation and contempt. “But really, can’t you see you’ve interrupted my business with Resh’an?”
Haru's eyes narrow further, her voice a low hiss, "As if I care about your 'business,' you bastard." She pulls down her scarf, embracing the freedom of revealing her true self after so long in hiding.
Aephorul clicks his tongue, his voice dripping with mock concern. "My, my... such foul language. You know what Resh'an thinks about that," he taunts, casting a knowing glance at Resh'an, who remains silent, his expression unreadable.
Haru clenches her jaw, trying to maintain her composure. "Go ahead, attack again if you dare."
Aephorul laughed dismissively, waving her taunt aside "Oh, my dear Haru," he coos "Tell me, where have you been all this time? It's been ages, hasn't it? Ah, yes," he lifts his disfigured finger in mock realization, "it was 60 years ago, when I massacred your former Solstice Warrior friends." His grin widens maliciously. "Pathetic little worms… trying to save you by sacrificing their lives."
This little bastard. Haru's hands twitch at her sides, her fingers itching to lash out. The anger within her builds, mirrored by the storm around them. She struggles to restrain herself, knowing any loss of control could be catastrophic.
Resh'an steps forward, his voice echoing through the storm, calm and steady, "Haru," he begins, trying to reach her "Don't listen to him. He's only trying to provoke you."
She knows this, yet Aephorul's mere presence stirs a tempest of emotions she's long suppressed. But she can't afford to lose control—not here, not now.
Aephorul cuts him off, his tone light, almost teasing, "Resh'an, don't be such a buzzkill. I'm just making small talk. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?" He waves a dismissive hand at Resh'an, his tentacles repeating the movement teasingly, before turning his attention back to Haru, whose every muscle is tensed, the air around her crackling with electric charge.
Resh’an remains silent but visibly alert, his stance rigid and one hand at his Vial of Time as if ready to intervene at any moment. Aephorul, revelling in the discomfort his presence causes, scoffs mockingly. "Now, after eons, the three of us are together again. This should be celebrated, don’t you think, my dear?"
Haru forces a bitter laugh, her anger barely contained. "Oh, sure," she retorts, her tone thick with sarcasm. "Let’s throw a grand reunion party. Maybe invite some old friends too, for more fun… Oh wait, you killed them all," she snaps back.
Aephorul feigns a dramatic sigh. "You’re so tense," he retorts, mimicking annoyance. "Just like Resh’an... Painfully boring, really. You two should loosen up…" His snarky comment hangs in the air "Well, I know a few options for both of you~”
Haru’s grip tightens on the hilt of her katana, her patience fraying. "Fuck off, Aephorul," she hisses through clenched teeth. "What the hell do you want?"
His sinister laugh echoes, amplified by the howling wind. "I don't appreciate the way you say my name, Haru," he teases, his tone playful yet chilling. "I rather miss the way you whispered it into my ear back then when we were alone."
The remark hits Haru like a physical blow, drawing a quiet gasp of shock. "You..." she seethes, her voice trembling with anger. How could he…
Beside her, Resh’an’s expression is a mix of disbelief and confusion, seemingly caught off guard by Aephorul’s words. The revelation shakes him visibly, his usual composure cracking under the implications.
Aephorul’s amusement seems to peak as he delves further into the painful past, his eyes darting between Haru and Resh’an, watching the turmoil between them. "Oh, you haven't told him? That once you were mine?" His sly grin widens, delighting in the visible shock and confusion on Resh’an’s face.
Haru lets out a shaky breath, teetering on the brink of completely losing her composure. “I was never yours, you sick bastard,“ she spits out, each word laced with venom. "Don't you dare say that."
"But it's the truth, Haru...” Aephorul begins, his smirk widening “Or what else did we do when you visited me in the middle of the—"
"Stop it, Aephorul. That’s enough," Resh'an cuts in sharply, his voice firm but tinged with frustration.
Aephorul tilts his head, clearly amused “Resh'an... Always the protector, aren't you? I'm surprised you still stand by her, playing the white knight, even after such revelations.” His laughter is cold, mocking. "But then again, you were quite preoccupied with your own distractions back then, weren’t you?"
Resh'an's jaw tightens, his fists clenching as he struggles to maintain control, a deep scowl forming as Aephorul continues to taunt him. “Oh, cat got your tongue?” His sinister laughter echoes around them, revelling in the tension he’s stirring.
The mention of that part of their past stirs up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions inside of Haru. She steps forward, her voice cold and steady. "What do you want, Aephorul? Are you here to play your sick games, trying to manipulate and divide us? Or are you planning to try and seal me away again?"
Aephorul's laughter rings out, his amusement palpable at Haru's defiance. "Oh no… Where would be the fun in that?" He smirks, his gaze flickering to Resh'an standing beside her, as if harbouring some hidden intent. "Wouldn't it be a waste to seal away such a beautiful and powerful Ovate? And besides, you’re finally reunited with your beloved Resh'an, my dear…" He gestures at Resh'an to emphasize his point. "You must be overjoyed, aren’t you? But as you can see, he is no longer the man he once was, the man you once knew. He can’t even show himself anymore because of how he’s changed... The once powerful and handsome alchemist is now just a broken and pathetic shell of his former self."
Haru's restraint shatters; with lightning speed, she's in front of Aephorul, shoving her fist into his face. The cracking sound echoes sharply. Aephorul stumbles backwards in shock, a hand clutching his bleeding nose, hissing in pain.
"I don’t care what you say about me, but don’t you dare speak about him like that," Haru seethes, her voice low and threatening and her eyes filled with anger.
Around them, the group watches in stunned silence. "Did... did she just hit him in the face?" Zale murmurs, his expression a mixture of shock and awe. Valere and Serai immediately get into a fighting stance, prepared for whatever is to come.
Resh'an takes a step forward, clearly taken aback by Haru's protectiveness towards him. Before he can speak, Aephorul cuts him off.
Aephorul, clutching his likely broken nose, lets out a menacing chuckle. "Such a feisty little Ovate you are, defending a man who couldn’t even save you, your family, or your kind... because he abandoned you," he taunts, his voice dripping with venom.
Haru's breath catches in her throat as his words sink in. These words sting sharply, because they are painfully true. If Resh’an had been there when Aephorul completely lost it, perhaps her family and her kind might have survived. She glances at Resh’an, who stands silently, his eyes intensely fixed on Aephorul, his hands clenched into fists.
Haru averts her gaze from him, struggling to keep the flood of painful memories and emotions from rising to the surface, her fingers trembling slightly. After a moment, she breaks the tense silence, her eyes reflecting a mix of desperation and pain. "Why... Why did you do this to me, Aeph?" she asks, her voice much softer now yet still full of sadness. "Why did you take everything from me?"
Aephorul's expression hardens, his voice cold and devoid of remorse as he explains his cruel motives. "Because it was necessary, Haru. The downfall of your kind was essential to forge the world anew, to create a realm where I could pursue my experiments unhindered. The Ovates were mere obstacles, blinded by their archaic duties to maintain balance. They deserved their fate so that they would no longer thwart my progress."
Haru's fists clench tightly at her sides. "And why spare me?" she replies, her voice rising with fury. "If your goal was to eradicate my kind, why am I still alive? Why not just kill me too?"
Aephorul's sneer is chilling as his gaze narrows, "Perhaps I should," he growls, his voice dripping with venom. "Now that you've clearly chosen your path, you're of no further use to me. I should just stop the fun here and end you right now." His threat hangs heavily between them.
Instantly, Resh'an steps protectively in front of Haru, his stance tense and alert. "Touch her, and you'll regret it," he warns, his voice strained with intensity an uncharacteristic edge of threat.
Aephorul's laugh rings out again, mocking yet tinged with an unmistakable trace of trepidation. "Regret it, huh? You think you two lovebirds and your pitiful band of warriors can threaten me?" he taunts, his gaze sweeping disdainfully over the group.
Garl cannot hold back his anger. "You bet we will!" he retorts sharply, stepping forward.
Unfazed, Aephorul scoffs dismissively. "Well, I'll be waiting for you in my castle, you pathetic fools." With a dramatic gesture, he slams his tentacles onto the ground. The impact sends cracks racing across the cliff, the earth beginning to tremble beneath their feet.
"Oh shit, not that again…" Haru murmurs, her instincts screaming at her to chase after Aephorul, but he seizes the moment to create a swirling portal, stepping towards it with a sneer. "I’ll be waiting for you… my old friends," he taunts as he disappears into the portal.
"Fuck! Wait!" Haru shouts after him, frustration boiling over. But there's no time to dwell on her anger; the ground beneath her feet shakes more violently, threatening to collapse.
When Haru faces the group, the expressions of her friends are a chaotic mix of fear, confusion, and urgency. The cliff beneath them groans and shifts dangerously, she knew they have to act fast to avoid a dangerous fall. "We need to leave now," she declares urgently.
Zale scans the disintegrating terrain in panic. "But how?"
"We need to jump." Haru commands, pointing to the egde of the cliff.
"Jump? Are you crazy? Do you want us to die?" Zale blurts out in panic.
"Trust me, okay?" Haru reassures, glancing at Resh'an who seems lost in thought. He catches her look and nods affirmatively before transforming into the Great Eagle and soaring away. Serai disappears through her portal with a shrug and a casual remark, "See you downstairs, I guess."
The trio looks visibly nervous, but the rumbling ground under them "Follow me, jump right after I do," she instructs before leaping off the high cliff as it starts to break off. Zale and Garl hold onto each other, screaming wildly as they jump, while Valere follows more composedly, seemingly accepting her fate.
As Haru descends, she turns mid-air and conjures a strong upwind, directing it to slow their fall. The screams subside as they experience the sensation of being nearly weightless, their downward fall turning into a controlled float, cushioned by the air currents Haru summoned. Below, Serai watches their approach and smirks at their dramatic fall.
Zale’s eyes widen with the sudden realization that he is no longer plummeting toward death. He struggles to balance himself amidst the swirling gusts Haru has conjured. "Oh my god… What's happening?” he asks, a mix of relief and bewilderment in his voice as he wobbles slightly in the air.
"Whoaaaahhh… This… This is amazing," Garl chimes in, a grin spreading across his face. He reaches out to grab Valere’s hand, who seemed equally stunned by their gentle descent. Together, they glide down to the ground, their descent graceful and controlled thanks to Haru's elemental manipulation.
After touching ground, they regroup with Serai, a brief, tense silence falls over them as they collect themselves after the encounter with Aephorul and the unexpected descent. Haru feels clearly uncomfortable, unsure what to say after the revelation of her background and her past connection with Aephorul, particularly the part where Aephorul disclosed their former relationship.
Before Haru can open her mouth to finally break the silence, she is cut off as Resh’an lands softly next to them, shifting back into his human form, his expression distant and contemplative. Serai instantly approaches him, her frustration evident. "You... Garl could have died! And you? You were just looking!" she accuses, her voice sharp with concern and anger.
Resh'an meets her glare with a calm, detached demeanor, his voice even as he explains, "I couldn't intervene, Serai. If I had, Aephorul could have unleashed his wrath across many worlds in revenge. That's unacceptable."
Serai's glare intensifies, clearly unsatisfied with his justification, her body tenses as she processes his words and the implications of their situation. The tension in the group is palpable, highlighting the moral and strategic dilemmas they face in their fight against Aephorul.
Haru approaches Serai, who's visibly upset, and gently places a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Serai, I know you're upset, but Garl is okay," Haru tries to soothe her. Serai looks up, her eyes swirling with a tumult of anger and hurt, making Haru's own heart tighten at the sight.
Garl steps forward, his voice soft and reassuring as he addresses Serai. "Look, I'm okay, really. Can't you see?" He gives her a small, calming smile, trying to lighten her mood. Turning to Haru, he places a grateful hand on her shoulder. "Thanks to you," he adds, acknowledging her role in saving his life.
Haru returns his smile, and just then, Valere approaches and unexpectedly wraps her arms around her. "Thank you," Valere murmurs, showing a vulnerability that Haru has never seen before.
Haru returns the hug warmly, feeling a rush of relief and happiness now that the reality of their situation has sunk in. She is grateful that they all emerged unharmed from the whole encounter with the Dweller and Aephorul. "You don't need to thank me," she replies softly.
Just then, Zale bursts into the circle with his characteristic enthusiasm. "Hug partyyyy!" he exclaims, wrapping his arms around them both. Garl joins in, adding to the group embrace.
Haru is touched and slightly overwhelmed by the affection pouring from her friends. A small smile plays on her lips. Though enjoying the moment, her eyes catch Resh'an's gaze as he watches her with an intensity that speaks volumes. His expression is unreadable, concealing whatever thoughts or feelings he has hidden behind his thick walls.
Breaking the embrace, Haru shifts uneasily. “I guess… I owe you all an explanation… for everything.” she says, her voice tinged with nervousness.
“You owe us a BIG explanation, Lyn.” Zale teases, his smirk playful yet pointed.
Haru chuckles nervously “I guess you can call me Haru now.” she replies, her voice carrying a hint of relief at no longer needing to hide her true identity.
Garl throws an arm around her with a friendly grin. “Alright, Haru,” he declares, his demeanour light as always and his eyes filled with curiosity. “You definitely owe us the next round of drinks and some backstory. But first, let’s get back to the ship.”
Valere nods in agreement "Yeah, I want to leave this place as soon as possible."
The journey back to their ship is filled with conversations and debriefing. The others fill Haru in on the events that has transpired during her absence. After fighting relentlessly without any real chance of defeating the Dweller, Serai has made a desperate decision to use Resh’an’s Vial of Time on the creature. This act has broken the truce, leading to Aephorul's sudden and violent intervention. Unfortunately, despite their efforts, the Dweller has survived and escaped with Aephorul and his Acolytes.
Throughout the recounting, Haru notices Resh’an's silence. He walks slightly apart from the group, lost in his own thoughts. She wonders if he’s upset about her relationship with Aephorul. Haru feels the urgent need to clear the air with Resh’an first, to explain her actions and decisions, but the timing feels increasingly difficult. She tries to push these thoughts aside for now, focusing on the more immediate need to return safely to the ship. Thanks to a shortcut Garl has found, the travel back to the docks is much faster.
The group’s pace quickens as the ship finally comes into view, a silent beacon of safety and departure from the chaos. Haru mentally prepares herself for the conversation with her friends, because she must confront not only her background, but also the deeper, more painful chapters of her past that have resurfaced so violently today.
Notes:
Thank you for reading :)
Chapter 12: Fleeting Moments [NSFW]
Summary:
Here's another flashback chapter :)
Warning: NSFW/Explicit content ahead! My first attempt at writing smut, so please be nice to me ._.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Millennia ago…
Haru always believed that everything would be fine, that it would always be the three of them together… She was so naive.
Haru and Resh'an were lounging in the cozy wing chairs of the small library within his office, nestled in his home in the capital of the Ovates, Nexalis, where Ovates and humans lived together in peace. It was a serene Sunday afternoon, the kind best spent with books and light-hearted conversation about their current projects.
Catching a glimpse over his book, Resh'an snorted with amusement. "You're reading that author again? What does he write about that captivates you so much? I can see how you're drooling over those books." His tone was teasing, his brown eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Haru's eyes remained fixed on the pages, though a frown flickered across her face at his cheeky remark. "His writing is… insightful, not that I'd expect you to understand the allure of anything outside scientific journals, nerd," she retorted without looking up.
Resh'an scoffed playfully before a cheeky laugh escaped him. "Insightful, huh? Let me guess—it's all about that cheesy romantic fluff?" he probed, his smirk broadening in mischief as he prodded her further, eager to draw a reaction.
Haru glanced up from her book, meeting his teasing gaze with a mock-serious expression. "And there you go again, proving you have no clue what women like to read for fun," she shot back with playful scorn. "And for your information, it’s not the romance that hooks me—it’s the detailed storytelling," she added, her smirk mirroring his, giving him a knowing look before she returned to her reading.
He almost choked on his spit as he realized what she was referring to. But he recovered quickly, his disbelief melting into amusement. Clearing his throat, he said, "Haru, even after all those years, you never cease to surprise me. Here I was, thinking you preferred more scholarly pursuits in your free time."
Haru rolled her eyes at his remark, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Not everyone is as obsessed with their work as you are, Resh’an." She closed her book gently and stood up, stretching languidly as she walked over to the window. Outside, the bustling preparations for the festival caught her eye, reminding her of the approaching event.
"I'd almost forgotten it was that time of the year again," she murmured, her gaze following the volunteers as they strung lights through the trees and set up fire pits.
Resh'an leaned back in his chair, following her gaze. "Ah, the Festival of Lights... It’s been years since I last attended." His voice carried a hint of nostalgia as he watched the flurry of activity outside. "It's a beautiful celebration, isn’t it? The fire, the lights, the magic... It transforms the city."
Haru nodded, her eyes still fixed on the preparations. "It does. But it’s always so crowded... too many people for my liking." The Festival of Lights was a town festival in honour of fire and light, marking the seasonal shift to shorter days in late autumn. Ovates ignited large fires, organized parades of lights and created elaborate fireworks displays with their magic. People from all over the world came to Nexalis to join in the festivities.
Haru turned her head to meet Resh'an's gaze, a playful smirk crossing her face. "You sound like you actually want to go? You?" She teased, knowing his usual aversion to large crowds mirrored her own. Yet, the idea of attending a festival alone with him sent her heart racing.
"Yeah, we could go, I mean, if you want?" Resh'an replied hesitantly, shrugging slightly. "I know you're not the biggest fan of those crowds, and neither am I, but... I bet the food will be delicious, and the allure of festival foods is hard to resist, even for a recluse like me" he added, his voice carrying a hopeful note that successfully captured her attention.
Haru’s face light up in excitement at the mention of food. "Okay, you got me there. But really, why not? If it gets too overwhelming, we can always grab some street food and escape back home”
"I like the way you think, Haru," Resh'an grinned back at her. "I give us one hour before we retreat back to my library."
She waved him off playfully, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "I'll give you fifteen minutes before you can't handle it anymore and start rambling about work again."
Resh'an laughed, a warm sound that echoed in the cozy office. "Fair enough. But you have to admit, my current projects are more than just experiments—they're fascinating. And I can't wait to share my latest insights with you, even if it's amid a crowd."
"Alright, it's a deal then.” Haru replies, her eyes alight with amusement “We'll go, but at the first sign of discomfort, we retreat back here. Our sanctuary from the chaos."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Resh'an agreed, his expression softening, "And who knows, maybe we'll manage to stay longer than we expect." His tone was filled with playfulness.
It was the weekend of the street festival, and Haru stood by the fountain next to the town hall, waiting for Resh'an. She couldn't help feeling extremely excited about attending the festival alone with him, even though it wasn’t an official date.
As time passed without any sign of him, worry began to crease her brow. It wasn’t like him to miss a meeting; he had never stood her up before. Haru felt a twinge of concern, hoping he was alright.
She decided to wait a little longer, her eyes occasionally drifting towards the direction of Resh'an’s home, carried by a hopeful gaze. The colorful autumn leaves danced around her in the gentle breeze, adding a touch of agitation to her anxious wait. Should she go check on him? The thought crossed her mind more than once, but she dismissed it each time. She didn’t want to seem overbearing, like a worried mother hen watching over her chick.
However, as the afternoon faded into evening and the festival lights began to brighten the darkening streets, Haru had to face the fact that he wouldn’t show up. Just as she was about to make a decision on what to do next, a familiar voice cut through the noise of the crowded streets.
“Haru? What are you doing here alone? Waiting for Resh’an?”
Turning around, Haru's expression transformed from one of concern to delight as she recognized her old friend Aephorul. His long, white hair was tied back in a messy, low ponytail, and his ice-blue eyes seemed to pierce through her, though they carried a warmth that softened their intensity as he approached.
“Aeph,” she greeted, embracing him warmly. “You’re back early! I thought you wouldn’t return until later this year.”
“The mission wrapped up sooner than expected. And I couldn’t miss a chance to indulge in some good food and a few glasses of wine,” he met Haru’s gaze with an amused expression. There was a softness in his eyes, a warmth that made her feel momentarily at ease.
“I was actually waiting for Resh’an,” Haru admitted, her voice tinged with resignation. “We were supposed to meet up here, but he’s late. Maybe he’s still at home?”
Aephorul raised an eyebrow, genuine surprise flickering across his face. “Oh, really? He wasn’t at home - I just stopped by his place.”
Haru sighed, trying to hide the disappointment creeping in. “Who knows where he is this time? Probably stuck in some weird project, losing track of time.”
Aephorul shook his head with a wry smile. “Well, no use waiting around, is there? Let’s enjoy the festival together. And tomorrow, you can kick down his door and give him an earful.” Aephorul suggested, half-joking.
Haru couldn’t help but smile at that. Aephorul was probably right - Resh’an was likely buried in some research, oblivious to the time. “Yeah, you’re right,” she said, nodding in agreement. "Might as well make the most of it.”
With that, they set off to enjoy the festivities together, Haru pushing thoughts of Resh’an to the back of her mind. They enjoyed the vibrant light shows and fireworks, shared delicious festival foods and relished each other's company. The festive atmosphere helped lighten Haru's spirits, making it easier to set aside her worries—at least for this night.
The morning after the city festival, Haru was still nestled in her bed. Suddenly, her rest was interrupted by a persistent knocking at her door. She groaned in annoyance, hoping the uninvited guest would depart, but the knocking continued, relentless. Then she considered that it might also be Resh'an. Reluctantly, Haru shuffled out of bed and made her way to the door, only to find her sister standing there with a nervous expression.
“Tori?” Haru’s voice was thick with sleep as she blinked in surprise.
“Haru, I’m sorry to wake you, but we need to talk,” Tori said, her tone urgent yet hesitant, making Haru instantly alert to the seriousness of her words. She stepped aside, allowing Tori to enter.
As Tori took a seat, she didn’t speak immediately, instead fidgeting with her fingers and casting glances around the room. Haru’s concern deepened. “Tori, what’s wrong? Is it something about mom and dad?”
Shaking her head, Tori managed a weak smile. “No, mom and dad are fine,” she assured, but her strained expression belied her words. “It’s something else, Haru... something important I need to tell you…Please, just... try not to freak out, okay?”
Oh no. That didn’t sound good. Haru’s stomach knotted with apprehension. She nodded, signalling for her sister to continue and bracing herself for the worst.
Taking a deep breath, Tori's voice wavered as she spoke. “I was working late because of the festival, so I didn’t get off until early this morning. When I was walking home, I... I saw Resh’an leaving Mina’s place.”
Haru felt a jolt run through her, her mind reeling. “Wha-What?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to process the implication of her sister’s words.
Haru's heart hammered painfully in her chest as Tori continued, each word from Tori landing like a blow. "Haru…" Tori took a deep breath, her voice strained with the weight of her message, "I think that Resh'an spent last night at Mina's. And I don’t think that they were just discussing theories about alchemy given Mina’s past attraction to Resh’an."
He did what? She clung to a faint hope that this was just some cruel joke, a mischievous play from her often witty sister, but the earnest, sympathetic look in Tori’s eyes told her this was all too real.
"Mina?" The name felt sour on her tongue. This must have been why he hadn't shown up yesterday. Why he ditched her. For another woman. The realization pierced her heart, betraying her with a sharp pain of jealousy and hurt. Haru had always known of Mina's not-so-subtle interest in Resh’an—her lingering glances, her flirtatious laughs. Resh’an had always seemed oblivious or uninterested, which reassured Haru enough to never view Mina as a real threat. Until now.
The realization stung. It wasn’t just about Mina or the potential betrayal; it was about her own unspoken feelings, kept hidden under the guise of friendship. Haru had loved him in silence, too scared to confess and risk the precious bond they shared. She had always imagined, perhaps foolishly, that one day circumstances might lead Resh’an to see her as more than a friend. That he would choose her.
But the harsh truth that Tori presented destroyed those hopes. Now, faced with the possibility of losing him in a way she hadn't anticipated, Haru felt a sharp pang of regret. Maybe she should have been braver, should have said something sooner. But fear had held her back, the fear of ruining the deep, comfortable companionship they had built over the years. She felt like a coward. A coward who might have lost something precious.
Was it just a fling between them, or something more? Haru wondered, grappling with the idea of Resh’an seeking comfort or escape in someone else’s arms. But the thought that it might have been merely a physical need did nothing to soothe the ache inside her.
Two days after Resh'an had failed to show up for their planned evening, Haru found herself seated at the council meeting, utterly distracted. Despite being surrounded by the council's discussions, she was lost in her thoughts. The agenda might as well have been in another language - she wouldn’t care anyway. If anyone called on her to speak, she'd be fucked.
Resh'an was there too, sitting right beside her. Haru hadn't seen him for almost a week now. She couldn't bring herself to face him, not after what her sister had told her. She hadn't confronted Aephorul about Resh'an's whereabouts over the past two days either. Deep down, she already knew where he was.
She stole a quick glance at him. Was he as distracted as she was? Or absorbed in the council's affairs? Their usual interactions were absent today; no shared smirks over a councillor’s sexist or inappropriate remark, no silent banter or inside jokes. Today, there was just an uncomfortable silence. They avoided each other's gazes, each caught in their own turbulent thoughts.
When the meeting finally ended, Haru rose abruptly, eager to escape the stifling atmosphere. She was almost at the door when Resh’an’s voice stopped her. "Haru, could we talk for a moment, please?"
She turned, her heartbeat quickening as she caught the slight tremor in his hand—a hesitant gesture, as if he wanted to reach out to her. Resh’an stepped closer, his expression filled with remorse. "I… I need to apologize for the other night," he began, his voice thick with regret. "I never meant to stand you up at the festival. There was an incident with one of my students from my faculty, and I couldn’t get a message to you. I hope you can forgive me…”
Haru felt a knot tighten in her throat. His words, so smoothly delivered to hide the truth, made the pain all the sharper. She knew he was holding back; the guilt in his eyes didn’t cover the whole story. Yet, he didn’t know she was aware of where he was—nor with whom.
With effort, Haru swallowed the dryness in her mouth and forced a smile. She waved a dismissive hand, feigning nonchalance. “It's all right, Resh'an. Actually, I ran into Aephorul and we ended up enjoying the festival together." She shrugged lightly, aiming to alleviate his guilt, even as her heart ached with the knowledge of what he did.
But she tried to hide the pain, masking her true feelings behind a wall - betrayal, disappointment, the sting of jealousy. Despite knowing he spent that night with Mina, she chose to play the part of the understanding friend, burying her hurt beneath the wall, like a facade of indifference. It’s an exhausting performance, but one she feels compelled to maintain, for now.
He studied her face for a moment, as if trying to decipher her true feelings, but then he simply nodded and offered a small, relieved smile. "Alright… I'm glad he was with you then" He exhaled, the tension visibly leaving him. “I really wanted to go with you, my friend”
My friend—the words resonated with a sobering finality. They were just friends, nothing more.
Haru nudged him playfully, forcing a grin. "Of course, I forgive you, you dork," she reassured him, her tone light, hiding the complexity of her emotions. They leave the meeting room together, stepping into the hallway, on their way home.
Haru was actually proud of herself for maintaining her composure so convincingly. But internally, she wrestled with her feelings. What right did she have to confront him? He was free to choose, free to love who he wanted. If his choice was Mina, then as his friend, she should support him and be happy for him. In fact, she missed her opportunity by waiting for decades, never brave enough to make a move and risk their friendship for the possibility of something more. Now, she faced the consequences of her lack of action. Yet, even though all rational arguments pointed to her needing to accept his decisions and be happy for him, the hurt was overwhelming.
Despite her efforts to suppress her feelings, Haru found it extremely difficult to push away the thoughts of Resh'an with Mina. Imagining them together—touching, kissing—was unbearable. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying desperately to block out the intrusive thoughts as they walked home in silence.
Eventually, Resh'an and Mina's relationship became public, confirming what Haru feared most: it wasn't just a casual fling; it was serious. She put on her bravest face, striving to be the supportive friend, congratulating him, laughing and sharing his happiness. But internally, she was consumed by jealousy.
How? How did this happen? How did the two get together? The always composed and work-focused Resh’an, who unlike Aephorul never actively sought romantic companionship, had found someone after centuries. And, against her greatest wish and to her disappointment, it was not her, despite her silent longings. It probably never would have been her.
What did Mina have that she didn’t? Haru had never thought about those things, but perhaps Mina was simply Resh'an’s type while she wasn’t. And Haru had been by his side for decades, always the loyal friend but nothing more. Yet, deep down, her feelings for him had only grown stronger, now more intense than ever before.
Haru feared their friendship might suffer from the change. The thought of losing those lazy, cherished afternoons at the weekend together, now potentially replaced by his time with Mina, twisted in her gut like a knife.
Haru was never the type to be vocal with her feelings, especially around Resh’an. They had both been reserved when it came to matters of love, never diving too deep. Until now, she had managed to suppress her deeper feelings for him, content with the closeness they shared - or so she told herself.
Sitting alone with a book in her lap that evening, the words blurred before her eyes. The pages felt meaningless as the realization sank in: things were changing, and the future she had envisioned, one where they remained close and unaltered, was slipping away.
Haru slowly realized that not everything would be fine. It was just something she desperately craved, and now, the time was coming when everything would fall apart.
Aephorul found Haru in her apartment, seeking to offer comfort knowing she harbored unspoken feelings for Resh'an. Haru sat wearily on the couch with a book forgotten in her lap, her eyes red and hollow as she stared into space.
"He's a blind fool, Haru. He clearly doesn’t deserve you or your love," Aephorul remarked with evident distaste, pacing the living room in frustration. He was clearly upset by the situation.
Haru sighed, a sense of resignation in her voice. "Aeph… it’s okay. That would have happened sooner or later anyway."
"No, it's not okay, Haru," Aephorul interjected sharply. "First, he stands you up on a date he suggested, blatantly disregarding your feelings. Then, he feeds you some weak excuse, when he was in fact at Mina’s. I can't believe it... You two were so close, and just like that, he moves on with someone else?"
Haru remained silent, absorbing his words. Aephorul was right. She had always believed they shared a deeper connection, a special bond that was more than just friendship. But the current reality shattered that illusion, revealing that perhaps, to Resh'an, it had always been just friendship, nothing more.
“You’re right…” Haru murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she clutched her knees to her chest. “It was a weak excuse... He didn’t even explain what happened. Part of me just wanted to punch him.”
Aephorul leaned against her table with arms crossed, his gaze piercing as he looked her straight in the eyes. “Listen, Haru. You deserve much better than this,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm. “He should be crawling to your feet, begging for forgiveness for treating you like that.”
Haru met his ice blue eyes, finding genuine concern and sincerity within them. Aephorul was not usually one to delve into emotional matters or offer consoling words freely, so his support in this moment meant everything.
“Aeph…” she whispered; her voice thick with emotion. “You don’t know how much it means to me to hear you say that... Thank you for being here. Really.”
He offered a wry smile, his tone light yet sincere. “Of course, I’m here. I wouldn’t ditch you for someone else. No matter what happens, I won't leave you behind, understand?”
Haru nodded, a fragile smile touching her lips. Though fear still gnawed at her - fear of being left alone once more - Aephorul’s reassurance provided much-needed solace.
During the following weeks, Haru maintained a facade of happiness, though each day was incredibly nerve-wrecking, sucking the energy out of her body. Each subtle touch or affectionate gesture she witnessed between Mina and Resh’an still felt like a punch to the gut. Despite this, she forced a smile and acted the part of the supportive friend, happy for their happiness - or so she tried to convince herself.
Behind her facade, the reality was much grimmer. The reduced time Resh'an spent with her only deepened her fears of losing him, not just to Mina, but from her life entirely. It was a constant struggle to appear unaffected.
Thankfully, Haru wasn't completely alone in going through this heartache. Aephorul’s presence provided her much-needed comfort and support. And her sister, Tori, was also spending more time with her, helping her to move on.
Maybe life was a cruel joke and things weren't the same as before, but Haru knew that Aephorul and her family were still there for her and that they wouldn’t leave her side.
Months had passed and Haru had slowly come to terms with the new situation, or so she told herself. Surprisingly, she received an unexpected message. Resh'an, who had been away for several weeks on a journey, reached out to ask if she and Aephorul would like to meet up.
The news brought a wave of mixed emotions, but mostly, Haru felt relieved and glad at the prospect of seeing Resh'an again. She had seen so little of him in recent months, and the idea of spending time together - just like old times - brought a smile to her face.
As Haru made her way to the water gardens of Nexalis, she felt a sense of nostalgia washing over her. The gardens were a serene sanctuary, where nature and magic intertwined seamlessly. Cascading waterfalls and tranquil streams created a soothing melody. Ancient trees dipped their roots into crystal-clear pools, whispering secrets of the past. Flowers bloomed in a riot of colours, tended by Earth Ovates, creating a landscape that was both vibrant and peaceful. This had been one of their favorite meeting places in the past.
Approaching the tavern at the edge of the gardens, Haru spotted Resh'an already there, waiting for her. A smile formed on her lips without her even realizing it. The sight of him alone, without Mina, warmed her heart.
"Looks like the nerds always arrive early, huh?" Haru quipped as she walked up to him, her tone light and teasing.
Resh'an turned around at the sound of her voice, his expression softening into a warm smile. Those familiar brown eyes, filled with a calm warmth, met hers and for a moment all the distance of the past months seemed to vanish.
"Haru, it's really good to see you," he replied in his usual calm voice and then he smiled wryly at her. "Some things never change, right? But I’m glad we’re here together now. It's been too long."
Haru chuckled softly, feeling a strange mix of comfort and longing. "Yeah… it’s been too long." She took a moment to look around, absorbing the beauty of their surroundings - a reminder of past times spent together in laughter and deep conversation. "I've missed this... and you." She confessed suddenly.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause, the background noise of the gardens fading into a distant murmur. His expression was one of surprise. Both stood in silence for a moment. Did she say something wrong? Seeing how he was now avoiding her gaze, she felt like she shouldn't have said that. Fuck. Her mind was scrambling for the right words, trying to break the awkward silence. But before she could find the right words, a familiar voice broke the stillness.
"My, my, Resh’an. Finally back in town," Aephorul’s voice was as smooth as ever, carrying an air of nonchalance as he approached. "I assumed you would never come back from the south and would have settled down there with Mina." His words were light, almost teasing, as he greeted his old friend.
Resh’an let out a small, almost exasperated chuckle, rolling his eyes at the thought. "Don’t be ridiculous, Aeph. I have enough responsibilities here in Nexalis. I can’t just leave everything behind." Despite the dismissive tone, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a sign of his enduring fondness for their banter.
As Aephorul drew closer, he reached out and ruffled Haru’s hair in a playful, almost brotherly gesture. "Hi, shortcake," he greeted with a smirk.
Haru’s response was immediate, her glare was sharp as she swatted at his hand, trying to fix her now-messy hair. "Hey, the hell are you doing, you ass?" she snapped, though her tone held more annoyance than actual anger. Aephorul just huffed in amusement, clearly enjoying the reaction.
The exchange drew a soft laugh from Resh’an, who watched them with a mixture of amusement and affection. "Well, before the two of you end up fighting again, shall we?" he suggested, still chuckling as he gestured toward the tavern.
But just as they were about to head inside, a voice called out from behind them. "Resh’an!"
All three turned in unison to see Mina coming round the corner, her face lighting up as she spotted him. Haru’s heart skipped a beat, confusion and unease settling in her stomach. What was she doing here?
Resh’an’s brow furrowed slightly as he saw Mina approaching, her presence clearly unexpected. “Mina, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.
Mina’s steps didn’t falter as she joined the group, her expression turning mildly irritated. “What do you mean? You asked me to come, Resh’an… Have you forgotten?” she replied, her tone making it clear she was slightly miffed.
Resh’an hesitated, his silence stretching as if he was trying to piece together his own recollection. After a moment, he cleared his throat, an awkwardness creeping into his demeanor. “Right. I must have… forgotten.” His gaze shifted to Haru and Aephorul, a mix of confusion and guilt flickering in his eyes. “I-I hope this isn’t a problem for you two?” he asked, looking almost apologetic.
Haru caught his gaze, feeling a surge of emotions she struggled to keep in check. Is he serious? She bit back the sharp retort that threatened to spill out. She wanted to scream that, yes, it was a problem - a huge problem. But instead, she forced a shrug, trying to not destroy the mood. Her voice was carefully controlled. “Sure… Why not?”
Why did she always have to be so damn nice? Why couldn’t she just yell at that bitch for intruding their precious time together. She hated herself sometimes for constantly putting others’ comfort above her own. As if Mina doesn't spend enough time with him already, now he has to drag her here as well.
The four of them made their way into the tavern, settling into an evening that felt increasingly stifling to Haru. The atmosphere was slightly awkward, the tension palpable despite Aephorul’s attempts to keep the mood light. He was clearly picking up on the undercurrents, but even his efforts couldn’t entirely dispel the discomfort hanging over them.
Haru did her best to avoid looking at Mina, but it was impossible not to notice the way she touched Resh’an, the way she laughed at his jokes. Each small interaction between them felt like a punch to Haru’s gut. She silently pleaded with herself to calm the fuck down, but the jealousy gnawed at her, turning her thoughts bitter and dark. She imagined herself reaching across the table to wipe that perfect smile off Mina’s face, and the intensity of the emotion frightened her. What the hell was wrong with her?
As the evening wore on, Haru found herself ordering drink after drink, desperate to drown the swirling emotions, the self-pity and the festering jealousy. She plastered on a smile, trying to pretend everything was fine, but each sip only fuelled the inner turmoil.
Aephorul, having already polished off a bottle of wine, leaned forward with a curious glint in his eye. “So, Resh'an, how’s everything going in the south? What’s the current situation there?”
Resh’an’s demeanor sobered, his eyes reflecting concern. “It’s quite grim, actually. The droughts are intensifying, which means crop failures are becoming more common. The locals are really suffering from these harsh weather conditions…” He trailed off, a heavy sigh escaping him.
Mina, catching the opportunity to join the conversation, added, “My family has a farm down there, and they’re really struggling right now.” She paused, her gaze shifting towards Haru. “You’re the wind maiden, right?”
Haru, who had been quietly nursing her drink, turned her attention to Mina and nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”
Mina’s tone took on a mix of curiosity and frustration. “The Ovates wield great power over nature. I mean, as a powerful Wind Ovate, you can manipulate the weather. Why can’t you just change the weather in those areas to ease the suffering of the people?”
Haru took a deep breath, understanding the frustration in Mina’s voice but also feeling the weight of her own limitations. “I understand your point, Mina, but it’s not as simple as that. I can’t just use my weather manipulation whenever I please.”
Mina’s frown deepened, her confusion was evident. “Why not? The Ovates are supposed to protect and help us humans, right? Why can’t you just bring more rain to my family and the others in the South, and calm the storms?”
Haru attempted to maintain her composure, though her voice betrayed a hint of strain. "There's so much more to consider than just making it rain. We risk upsetting the entire ecological balance if we intervene too aggressively. It's not as simple as it seems."
Mina, clearly frustrated, wasn't satisfied with the response. "And why not? It's just a bit of rain. I can't believe that could disrupt the balance of the whole world. The people in the south don't have enough food for the winter. You can't just ignore that!"
Haru felt a surge of frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Was Mina really that ignorant of the broader implications? It wasn’t as simple as summoning rain whenever someone asked for it. The weather changes and droughts were affecting vast regions, not just Mina’s family. Haru had to take a deep breath, steadying herself to avoid snapping back.
“Mina,” Haru began, her tone measured but firm, “we’re already doing everything we can. We’re more than aware of how critical the situation is. But this isn’t just a problem in your area. There are many regions in the southwest and southeast where people are struggling—where water is a precious and scarce resource. We’re actively working to find solutions to these extreme weather conditions, but if we intervene too much, we could trigger natural disasters. It’s not as simple as making it rain; every action has a consequence.”
In the midst of the heated exchange, Resh'an and Aephorul exchanged uneasy glances, both choosing to remain silent as they listened to the two women. Neither of them dared to intervene.
“All the worse that even more people are affected!” Mina retorted, her frustration evident. “What’s the point of being so powerful if you don’t use these powers to make life better? We’re facing challenges that need quick reactions, and what are the Ovates doing? Nothing. All I see are discussions but no real solutions to the problem. Honestly, do we even need you at all?” Her voice dripped with bitterness.
Haru shook her head, downing the rest of her drink in a vain attempt to steady her rising irritation. Her voice was strained as she replied, “I can direct the wind, influence the weather—but I can’t just make the energy that builds up as a result simply disappear. At some point, it will discharge, and then what? Other people will suffer, maybe even die. And for what price?”
“What price?” Mina snapped back, her irritation boiling over. “So, the people in my hometown should just starve, is that it? Are you really this heartless?”
Haru scoffed, her patience wearing thin. She wanted nothing more than to grab Mina by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. “You think we’re going to let that happen? We’re doing everything we can to avoid it. Why don’t you ask Resh’an? He’s sitting in the council too.” She shot a look at Resh’an, who was visibly taken aback at being suddenly drawn into the fiery debate.
Resh’an blinked, his usually composed demeanor momentarily shaken by the intensity of the situation. He cleared his throat, gathering his thoughts before he responded. “Haru’s right. We’re already implementing various strategies to help people survive the upcoming winter. For instance, more fields are being cultivated in the east with the assistance of Earth and Water Ovates to meet the increasing demand.”
Mina, still unsatisfied, narrows her eyes. “But that’s just a temporary solution, isn’t it? Resh’an, you can’t tell me you don’t see it my way. The Ovates are too cautious with their powers. They should be taking decisive action and not just sitting back with half-assed solutions.”
Haru looked at Mina, dumbfounded. How could she be so blind to the delicate balance of nature? So dismissive of the potential consequences of overstepping? Haru hoped Resh’an would correct her understanding, as he usually did when it came to the use of her powers.
After a tense pause, Resh’an sighed and finally spoke. “You’re right, Mina.”
Mina’s face lighted up, and she took Resh’an’s hand, clearly pleased.
Haru’s jaw dropped, she couldn’t believe what she heard. He sided with her? Resh’an, who had always championed the principles of balance, protection, and responsibility, was now supporting Mina’s reckless views? Feeling betrayed, Haru was at a loss for words.
Before Haru could respond, Aephorul intervened. “Let’s change the subject to something lighter,” he suggested while swirling his wine glass. “We’re here to have a good time tonight, right? Let's keep the evening light, not bogged down with work talk.”
Resh'an and Haru remained silent, while Mina nodded, a bittersweet smile on her face. "You're right," she conceded. "I'm really sorry, Aephorul. I didn't mean to spoil the evening," she apologized, though her words seemed directed only at Aephorul, disregarding Haru's presence entirely.
As the night continued in the tavern, Haru sat quietly, her presence almost ghostlike as she listened to the conversations around her. Laughter filled the room, echoing off the walls, a stark contrast to the turmoil within her. She felt increasingly detached, as if she no longer belonged, her place stolen by Mina. What initially felt like slight discomfort had grown into a profound sense of disconnection.
The nausea that had settled in her stomach at the start of the evening only intensified as time passed. She felt sick.
She couldn’t shake off Mina’s words. Was she really not doing enough? Haru had always tried her best to help people, but her power over the weather wasn't limitless. The situation with the water was so critical that any attempt to bring more rain to the South could disrupt the delicate balance and lead to other regions suffering from drought. Nature always demanded something in return, often in ways that were unpredictable and devastating. Yet, despite knowing this, Mina’s words had cut deep, leaving Haru questioning her own worth.
Was she really useless? The thought gnawed at her, feeding the growing sense of inadequacy that had been creeping up on her ever since Mina had spoken. As she listened to the others talk and laugh, Haru felt more isolated than ever, trapped in her own doubts and fears.
Aephorul offered Haru occasional nods and apologetic glances, trying to bridge the growing distance between them, but it did little to ease her turmoil. The tension from the conversation and the sense of isolation overwhelmed her; she felt like she was on the verge of breaking down, her nausea rising to an unbearable level. She couldn’t stand it any longer and felt an overwhelming urge to get out. Suddenly, she stood up “I’ll be right back. Just need a bit of fresh air,” she announced. Without waiting for any response, she walked straight out of the tavern.
Stepping outside, the chill of the night air greeted her like a slap, sharp and reviving. She wanted to break down, to let out all the pent-up frustration and sadness in a flood of tears or screams, but she couldn’t. Instead, she felt trapped in her own restrained composure, more alone than ever. The nausea intensified, a relentless wave that refused to subside.
She walked around the tavern, finding a secluded spot near the gardens, and leaned against a tree. The nausea had become unbearable, and in a desperate attempt to find relief, she stuck her finger down her throat until she finally vomited. It felt like a release, a way to purge the tension from her body, even if only momentarily. As she finished, Haru slumped against the tree, her breathing ragged, feeling the weight of everything she had been holding in. For the first time that night, she allowed herself to feel a small sense of relief, even as her emotions continued to churn inside her.
After catching her breath for a few moments, Haru started walking back to the front of the tavern when Aephorul approached her, concern etched across his face. “Haru… Are you feeling alright?” he asked.
“Just had to throw up,” she replied nonchalantly, sinking down onto a bench next to the tavern.
“You did what? Are you alright? Did you catch something, you idiot…?” he exclaimed, his concern deepening as he reached out to check her forehead for a fever.
Haru gently slapped Aephorul’s hand away. “I’m not sick, Aeph. Just sick of Mina’s nonsense.”
Aephorul looked at her, irritation and frustration mingling in his expression. “Fuck… I know this situation wasn’t ideal, and she really acted like a bitch,” he sighed deeply. “I don’t understand why Resh’an thought it was okay to bring her without asking us first…”
“Yeah, I don’t get it either. I would have rather stayed home than deal with her bullshit and her bratty attitude. I mean, really? What the hell was that? Does she even want to understand how much I'm trying to help?” Haru vented, her frustration clear.
“I know, Haru. You always do your best. She just wanted to pick a fight with you, that was clear.” He groaned slightly frustrated “And here I wanted to spend a night in great company and good wine.”
“Yeah, I wanted that as well…” she retorted somberly.
“Look, let me take you home so you can rest. I’ll handle things here and be right back,” Aephorul said, his voice filled with sympathy as he patted the top of her head.
Haru nodded in agreement; it was better when she just left. He then turned to head back inside the tavern.
As Haru sat on the bench, waiting for Aephorul to return and rescue her from this nightmare, Resh’an unexpectedly emerged from the tavern, a worried expression on his face.
“Haru… Are you not feeling well?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. “Is everything alright? Are you sick?” His eyes scanned her, searching for any visible signs of illness or distress.
Haru was caught off guard by his directness. She hadn’t expected him to come out and check on her, and a mixture of anger and disappointment flared up inside her. “I’m just tired and have a headache… I really want to go to bed. It’s been a long week,” she lied, not wanting to worry him further by admitting she had just thrown up.
Resh’an took a step closer, his eyes reflecting his concern. He reached out as if to touch her, to offer some comfort, but hesitated, his hand dropping back to his side. “Listen, Haru… I’m really sorry about tonight. That shouldn’t have happened…I-”
“Can we just not talk about it anymore?” Haru interrupted, her frustration seeping through her words. “I just want to go home. I’m not feeling well.” Her voice carried a weariness that made it clear she wasn’t up for further discussion.
Resh'an flinched slightly at Haru's curt response, but he nodded. There was an awkward silence between the two of them before he spoke once more. “Do you want me to bring you home?” he asked hesitantly, his tone betraying more emotion than he probably intended.
His offer came as a surprise, causing Haru's heart to race and her eyes to widen. She wondered if his sudden concern was out of guilt or simply an act of kindness. Deep down, she wasn't sure she wanted to know his motives, yet the idea of him taking her home wasn't unappealing.
But before she could respond, Aephorul appeared, striding out of the tavern and heading straight for her. “So, shall we, Haru?” he asked, his presence instantly shifting the dynamic.
Resh’an jolted slightly, then turned to Aephorul with a nod. “Alright. Take care of her,” he said, his gaze lingering on Haru as she rose from the bench to leave with Aephorul. The guilt in his eyes was unmistakable.
As she walked away, Haru glanced back over her shoulder, catching that look of regret and concern in Resh’an’s expression. For a fleeting moment, she wanted to turn around, to reassure him that she was okay, to ease the worry etched on his face. But she couldn’t. Something held her back, something deep and unresolved. So, she kept walking, leaving Resh’an behind with his unspoken guilt.
Aephorul escorted Haru back to her home, and for the next three days, she didn't leave her apartment. Instead, she was cocooned in her own world of self-pity and pain.
She secretly hoped that Resh’an might check in on her, maybe even show some sign that he cared, that he genuinely was concerned of her well-being. But as the days passed, there was no sign of him. No visits, no messages - nothing. On the fourth day, it was Aephorul who returned.
“Haru, you can’t hide away forever,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “It’s been months now. You can’t keep crying over him. He isn’t worth it.”
Haru tightened her grip on the blanket draped over her, her voice trembling with pent-up frustration. “It’s not fucking easy, Aeph,” she hissed, the words laced with the pain she’d been bottling up.
Aephorul snapped back, his voice firmer than he intended. “Did he visit you in the past few days? No, right?”
The sharpness of his words cut through her defenses, silencing her instantly. He was right—Resh’an hadn’t visited, hadn’t even reached out. The truth of it settled heavily in her chest, and she found herself staring at the floor, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from falling.
“You see?” Aephorul continued, his tone cold but not unkind. “You need to understand, Haru. You’re just a friend to him. He loves Mina, not you. And if you keep this up, you’ll lose him completely.”
The words hit her like a slap. Hearing them from Aephorul, so bluntly, made them all the more painful. But deep down, she knew he was right. The tears she had been holding back finally welled up, blurring her vision as the reality of her situation sank in.
There was a heavy silence between them. Haru stared at her hands resting in her lap, her vision blurring as she fought back the tears that threatened to spill. Aephorul watched her for a moment, then let out a sigh and sat down beside her on the couch. Gently, he pulled her into his arms.
“You don’t want to lose him, right? You still want him as your friend,” Aephorul said softly, his voice carrying a rare note of tenderness. “But if you keep drowning in self-pity, you’re only going to push him further away. You need to get over him.”
Haru sighed, the weight of his words pressing down on her. The warmth of his embrace offered a small comfort, helping to soothe the storm raging inside her. “Of course I do… But it’s so much harder than I thought,” she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. “I just want to forget… Forget about him and everything that has happened, you know?”
Aephorul held her close, his hand gently stroking her back in soothing circles. They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in a quiet understanding. The steady rhythm of his touch lulled her into a brief sense of peace, if only for a moment.
Breaking the embrace, Aephorul pulled back slightly to meet her gaze, his expression suddenly shifting and his hand sliding down to rest on her knee. His tone took on a more subtle, suggestive edge. “You really want to forget, my dear?” he murmured, his fingers tracing lightly up her thigh. “Maybe… I can help you with that.”
His touch and intense gaze made her breath hitch and her body tense “What… what are you implying?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, caught between hesitation and curiosity. The atmosphere was charged with an unspoken tension that made her heart race.
Aephorul lets out a dark chuckle “Don’t play coy, Haru. You certainly know what I’m talking about.” He replied in a deep voice, his eyes were darkened, filled with hunger. His hot gaze went right down to her core, making the heat rise inside of her. He squeezed her thigh. “Let me take care of you, to help you forget...”
His words sent a shiver down her spine and quickened her breathing. What the hell was happening here? Aephorul had always been a really good friend to her and nothing more. She had no idea why, but the thought of giving in, letting him do whatever he wanted with her, made her suddenly squirm in need. She wanted it – no – she needed it.
Against her better judgement, her decision was made quickly, the intention clear. “Please… take care of me” she answered quietly, her gaze locked with his.
Aephorul moved his hand further up her thigh, his touch firm yet gentle. He leaned in closer, whispering into her ear “Just close your eyes and relax…”
His warm breath on her sensitive skin and his grip on her thigh made her shiver again, covering her with goosebumps and making her heart pound faster. With anticipation and a hint of uncertainty, she leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes, settling in to make herself comfortable.
“Yeah, just like that… Relax, my dear. Let me make you feel good” Aephorul murmured as his lips brushed down her neck.
Haru’s breath hitched as she felt his lips against the sensitive skin of her neck. She couldn’t hold back the breathy, silent moan as his teeth softly grazed her skin. He moved his hand up to explore the side of her body slowly and deliberately, feeling her body squirm under his touch. When he pressed a tender kiss on her neck, she couldn’t help but to release a soft whimper.
Hearing her quiet whimper and moans, Aephorul let out a guttural growl. "Gods, those sweet, little noises you make. You have no idea what you do to me, Haru." He continued to suck and kiss her neck, eager to drive out more of those sounds she made. He pressed his body against her side, his erection clearly tangible as he slowly grinded against her, eliciting a gasp of surprise from Haru.
“Can you feel that? I haven’t even touched you properly and you already drive me wild” he muttered against her neck. His words went right down to her core, making her throbbing with need.
As his lips continued to caress her neck, Aephorul’s hand wandered over her body, exploring her curves and the soft warmth of her skin. “You feel so good….so soft,” he murmured. “I can’t get enough of you,” he added with a soft groan, his hands gently moving to explore further, his touch light yet possessive. He cupped her soft breasts, kneading them firmly while his mouth continues to work on her neck and shoulder.
Surrendering completely, Haru released another moan, her body instinctively arching toward his touch. "Aeph... please..." she whispered, her voice thick with desire and need. Her thighs rubbed together, seeking the delicious friction she craved.
Aephorul pulled back slightly, locking eyes with her half-lidded gaze. "Please what, Haru?" he asked in a low, teasing tone.
Her voice was barely a whisper. "I need you...I need you so bad... please..." she pleaded. She couldn't understand why this was happening in the first place. It felt so wrong, yet the desire coursing through her was undeniable, and she found herself unwilling to stop. His touch was intoxicating, as if he knew exactly where to touch her to make her into a needy mess.
Aephorul let out a low grunt, his voice husky as he responded to her plea. "Impatient, aren't we? Don't worry, I'll take care of you," he assured her. His hand continued its slow exploration of her body, moving down her hips and gently parting her thighs. Haru gasped in anticipation, feeling the delicate touch on her inner thighs. He chuckled amused “You’re so sensitive…” His hand moved up, causing her to shiver with excitement.
Haru's breath quickened as Aephorul's fingers travelled higher, teasing her mercilessly. She arched her back, silently begging for more. "Please..." she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Aephorul leaned in close again. "What do you want, little one? Tell me." he murmured, his fingers moving up to the waistband of her pants, tracing maddening patterns on her skin.
Haru bit her lip. This was so embarrassing, but the ache inside her was too strong to ignore. "I-I want you... to touch me" Haru managed to gasp out between shaky breaths. “Please, Aeph…”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he replied “Now, take off your pants.”
Without hesitation, Haru obeyed and removed her pants and underwear, leaving her lower body naked. Aephorul lets out a small laugh. “You're quite eager for me, aren't you?”
Haru realised how she had simply followed him without giving it a second thought, making her huff in embarrassment. “You can’t blame me, you certainly know how to push my buttons.” She blushes deeply as she lay back on the couch beside him, feeling still exposed but also excited.
Aephorul's eyes roamed over her body appreciatively, his hand running along her bare thigh again. “Beautiful…” he whispered hoarsely. Without giving a warning, his hand travelled between her legs to brush over her wet lips, eliciting a sharp gasp from Haru. “You’re so beautiful like this.” He adds, the desire and need in his voice was evident. His fingers traced through her slick slit, making him hiss as he felt how aroused she was. “Gods, you’re soaked… so wet for me” he grunted out, his voice was strained, clearly struggling to hold himself back.
Haru let out a small whine as he began to slide his fingers through her wet lips. Aephorul groaned low in his throat, clearly pleased by her responsiveness. It only spurred him on even more, so that he started to gently rub her swollen clit in a circular motion. Haru instinctively rocked her hips against his hand. She needed more.
“Does this feel good?” Aephorul asked breathlessly while his fingers continued their gentle massage “Do you like it when I touch you like this, Haru?”
Instead of answering, Haru just let out another moan, her body trembled in pleasure. She was completely lost in the sensation of his skilled fingers moving against her sensitive nerve. His words only added to the intensity of her desire, making her body squirm under his touch. As she felt his cock twitching and throbbing against her thigh in response, she couldn’t hold back another whimper.
Aephorul, seeing how needy she was, slowly inserted two fingers inside of her. He couldn’t help but let out a guttural groan at the feeling of her tight sex. She was so wet and ready for him; he could easily slip inside her. Her insides instantly tightened around his finger as she rolled her hips against him. Her need pushed him further and further to the brink of losing it completely. He continued to grind his hips against her, matching the rhythm of his fingers.
“You’re so warm and tight.” He muttered against her hair as he began to thrust his fingers into her slowly, curling them inside to hit every right spot while his thumb pressed on her clit to provide more pleasure "So perfect..."
Haru held onto his shoulder for support as her head rolled back in ecstasy. Her hips grinded against his hands in desperation, matching his motions. “Oh my god…Please don’t stop” she whined out.
"Look at you, you're so needy." Aephorul whispered against her ear. “so desperate for me and my fingers…” He pulled her into a slow yet passionate kiss, his tongue claiming her mouth as he fingered her slowly. Haru’s sounds were muffled by the kiss.
When they broke the kiss, she opened her eyes to look at him. He returned her intense gaze, his own breathing growing heavier as he watched her reacting to his touch. He slowly added a third finger, stretching her out, his thumb continuing its slow circles on her throbbing clit.
“Aeph…” she sobbed out. It was not enough. She needed more, faster, deeper. She tried to say more, but she wasn’t able to.
Hearing his name like that, how she was begging for him with the desperate look on her face, made him finally snap. Aephorul captured her lips in another fierce kiss, pouring all his pent-up desire and emotions into the moment. Haru moaned in response, their tongues intertwining in a heated embrace.
Without breaking the kiss, Aephorul increased the pace of his movements, his fingers moving faster inside her. With every second, the intensity of their desire and the tension between them grew. Aephorul’s motions became more aggressive, their kiss more passionately and his touch growing more possessive.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this…Make you feel like this.” He murmured against her lips. He feverishly plunged his fingers deep into her wet heat, making Haru’s body tremble in pleasure. She couldn't stop herself from gasping and moaning for him, feeling the knot in her stomach tightening as she moved closer towards release.
Aephorul grabbed the hair at the back of her head, pulling it roughly. Haru let out a chocked moan at the sensation - a mixture of pain and pleasure - while she was completely under his control.
And she loved it.
He tilted her head to meet his gaze through hooded eyes. Her face was flushed, her breathing ragged and her mouth agape as he pumped his fingers into her tight pussy. She looked so beautiful like this.
“Come for me, Haru.” He commanded, his voice hoarse and his dark eyes filled with desire. His thumb on her clit moved faster as he dived into her. It just needed a few more strokes to tip her over the edge, making her finally fall apart.
Haru’s body tensed and shuddered with the overwhelming sensations as she felt the waves of pleasure crushing over her like a tidal wave. Her body and mind were completely overtaken with ecstasy and her inner walls tightened around his fingers in a rhythm. She let out quiet whimpers and sobbed as she rode out her intense climax.
“Just like that…You’re doing so well” he murmured softly, slowing down his movements to prolong her climax.
As he gently pulled out of her, her body was completely relaxed and her mind dizzy. She watched breathlessly as he brought his fingers to his mouth to taste her, causing her to let out a soft groan.
“You taste divine, Haru.” Aephorul muttered while licking his fingers, his hot gaze not leaving hers. Haru could see how aroused he was, his eyes dark with unfulfilled desire.
His actions, his words. It was too much. He was too good at this; knew exactly what to say. She could feel her own need flare up again. “More…Please” she begged quietly.
His eyes darkened at her desperate plea. “You want more? Are you sure about this, Haru? Because I won’t hold back…” The undertone in his voice sounded almost threatening.
She just nodded frantically, unsure of what would come next. He moved closer, his hot breath on her ear. “Well…then turn around and get down on all fours for me”
Her breath hitched at his command but she did as he demanded, she was totally under his spell. In this moment, he could literally do anything with her and she would willingly comply. She was a needy mess, but as long as this bliss lasted, she didn't care about anything else.
She lay down on her stomach, pushing her ass up to present herself before him shamelessly. Aephorul couldn’t hold back a low grunt as he watched her from behind, seeing how slick and ready she was for him. “Fuck, you look so hot like this. So needy.” His hand roamed possessively over her cheeks and between her thighs to squeeze her soft skin, making Haru squirm in pleasure.
He wasted no time. The sound of pants being unbuckled and removed echoed through the room, causing Haru’s body to tremble in anticipation.
As she suddenly felt his swollen tip pressing against her entrance from behind, she gasped in surprise. “Oh my god“ she moaned out, her voice choked with lust and need. He didn’t give her much time to mentally prepare herself as he dived into her with one deep thrust, making her cry out in pleasure and slight pain. He was so big. For a moment she thought he would tear her open.
“Oh fuck, Haru” he hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re so fucking tight.”
There was no time for her to adjust, no time to recover. He slammed into her with deep thrusts, making her legs quiver and her heart pound fast. She couldn't quite grasp anymore how things had escalated to this point. But right now, she couldn't care less as he continued to thrust into her with such an intensity that it felt like she was seeing stars. The way he fucked her was so good, so mind-blowing - it felt almost unreal. She gave herself over completely to the moment, her mouth hanging open while lewd noises escaping her lips with unabashed need.
Haru was utterly captivated by this intimate moment with him, consumed by the intense feelings he evoked within her. It made her crave for more, but that was not the only reason. She was finally able to forget for a fleeting moment, escaping the harsh reality that Resh’an was with someone else, that he would never love her.
She quickly realized that these moments with Aephorul were just a temporary escape from the reality she had to face. But that didn't stop her from doing it again and again with him. Those fleeting moments of total bliss were still better than nothing, right?
Notes:
Oh my dear... That escalated quickly. It was my first time smut, so I hope it wasn't that bad :D
Thanks for reading :) I hope you liked it!
Chapter 13: What’s Left Unspoken
Chapter Text
Present
“You’re an Ovate?!” Zale blurts out, his eyes wide with shock, practically bulging like saucers. Garl mirrors his reaction, awe written all over his face.
“That explains a lot…,” Serai mutters, more to herself than to the group, her gaze sharp as she observes Haru from her stool nearby, methodically polishing her daggers. Her eyes flicker with intensity as she studies the Ovate in silence.
Haru sits there with the group in the ship’s mess, having just returned from their encounter with the Dweller and Aephorul on Mesa Island. She has owed them an explanation, and now, after years of hiding, she has revealed her heritage as an Ovate.
Resh’an, on the other hand, has excused himself immediately after they arrived at their ship, retreating to his cabin to "think" about something. It leaves Haru uneasy, but for now, she has no choice but to leave it be.
“And Teaks knew first?” Valere asked curiously, glancing between Haru and the proud-looking Wandering Historian.
Teaks leans back, wearing a smug grin as she sits up a little straighter in her seat. “The moment I laid eyes on her, I knew. Wasn’t that hard to figure out,” she waves her hand dismissively, giving Valere a teasing smirk.
Haru rolls her eyes, half-amused and half-annoyed. “You were pretty annoying at first. I was surprised that you actually kept the secret to yourself,” she says with a grin, then reaches out to pat Teaks on the head like a well-behaved puppy. “Good girl~”
Teaks scoffs, swatting Haru’s hand away with mock offense. “Wounded! Truly wounded by your lack of trust, Haru! And here I thought we were besties!” she pouts dramatically, her expression almost endearing if it weren’t for the fact that she can be so infuriatingly annoying at times.
“So…” Zale interrupted Teaks, his attention shifting to Haru. “You’re not a bridge wizard?” He almost sounded disappointed.
Haru snorts in amusement, a sly smile curving her lips. “Sorry, Zale... It was just my wind magic.”
Garl's eyes widen in realization. “And you were guiding the wind to make our ship journeys faster, weren’t you?”
Haru nods, taking a casual sip of her tea. “Guilty as charged.”
“That explains a lot,” Serai says again, her tone thoughtful, her sharp eyes fixed on Haru. It is hard for Haru to read exactly what she was thinking.
Valere leans back in her chair, crossing her arms, her expression one of understanding. “So Resh’an wasn’t lying about there being an Ovate in our group. He knew it was you all along, didn’t he?”
Haru gives a brief nod. “Yes, he did. I didn’t fully realize it at first, but he figured it out pretty quickly.”
“Why keep it a secret from him in the first place?” Garl asks, his curiosity palpable.
“I thought it would be safer to keep my identity hidden,” Haru explains, glancing down at her tea. “But… Resh’an saw through it faster than I expected.”
Zale leans back in his chair with a wry smile playing on his lips. “Sooo, back to a more important question… Is Resh’an your ex or…” He trails off suggestively, clearly amused by the topic.
Haru nearly chokes on her tea, her eyes widening as she shoots Zale an incredulous look. “What the fuck... No! Resh’an is not my ex.” She says slightly flustered, causing Zale’s grin to widen.
Garl, frowning at Zale’s boldness, shakes his head. “I think you’ve misunderstood something, Zale. It was actually Aephorul who ha—" But before he can finish, Valere elbows him in the side.
“Ouch!” Garl winces, rubbing his ribs. “Val, what was that for? I was just trying to clear things up!”
Valere narrows her eyes at both Garl and Zale, her patience clearly wearing thin. “Maybe you two should learn when to keep quiet. Does everything need to be spelled out??”
Garl offers an apologetic smile to both Valere and Haru, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. Haru lets out a long, tired sigh, feeling the weight of her past pressing down on her with every mention of Resh’an and Aephorul.
Zale, completely unfazed by Valere’s scolding, smirks at Haru knowingly. “Oh, come on, Haru. You can't tell me there's nothing there. Anyone could see the sparks—or should I say, storm clouds—between you two.”
Even Valere can't help but chuckle, nudging Zale lightly. "Give it a rest, Zale."
Haru narrows her eyes suspiciously at the two of them. “What sparks? What are you talking about?”
Zale leans forward, his grin widening, "The bickering, the staring contests, the intense chats. That's classic ex-behaviour, Haru." He winks teasingly.
“What the…” Haru groans, her hands flying up to cover her face as she sighs in defeat. “By the gods… please help me.” She whines, feeling utterly drained by the relentless teasing. Sometimes, these kids are just too much.
"I actually enjoyed the way you rattled him," Serai suddenly chimes in with a nonchalant shrug as she stands up and walks over to the table, her fingers idly spinning her blades. She clearly has no interest in the more personal topics, and Haru is thankful for the shift in conversation. "You're the only one who really stands up to that arrogant old timer. These three? They practically drool over him" She nods toward Zale, Garl, and Valere, giving them a half-mocking, half-amused snort.
Garl gives Serai a disapproving look, shaking his head slightly. "We respect him, Serai. He's an ancient, powerful alchemist who has witnessed more history than we can even fathom. It’s only right we show him some reverence. Without his guidance, we'd still be wandering blind, trying to access Mesa Island while the Dweller of Strife stirred."
Garl has a point. Without Resh’an, they’d still be struggling to find a way onto Mesa Island, and the Dweller of Strife might have woken up already. The thought of what could have happened if they haven’t had his help was unsettling.
Serai rolls her eyes in response, clearly unimpressed. “Whatever, Garl…”
Zale gives Garl a sympathetic pat on the back. “Come on, buddy. You know trying to argue with Serai about something she’s already made up her mind about is like talking to a brick wall. You can’t win. Especially not when it’s about Resh’an.” He then turned his attention back to Haru with a mischievous grin. “Now, back to our favorite Ovate. Haru, you still haven't given us the full story.”
Haru lets out an exasperated groan. The little pest just can’t let it go, can he? "Zale, really, we were just friends. Friends. That’s all there ever was to it," She gestured emphatically with her hands, trying to make her point. Haru isn’t even sure anymore if they were actually still friends or just acquaintances from another lifetime.
Teaks throws an arm around Haru, her grin wide and mischievous. "Come on, Haru. You can be honest with your best friend – me. I know there’s more…" she whispers playfully into Haru's ear, her words sending a shiver down her spine.
Haru glances around, meeting the smirks and knowing looks from the kids, their expressions screaming, ‘You can’t fool us. We definitely know there’s more to it.' A dramatic sigh escapes her, clearly annoyed but unable to fully suppress her amusement at their teasing. Just as she is about to defend herself, Resh’an enters the mess room.
The room falls into a brief awkward silence as everyone shifts their focus instantly to Resh'an, who carries his usual composed and serene demeanor. He tilts his head slightly, his gaze shifting between them. "Did I interrupt something?" he inquires, his voice calm but tinged with a flicker of curiosity and confusion.
Zale, who is always ready to stir the pot, grins mischievously at Resh’an. “Oh, hi, Resh’an… actually, we were right in the middle of discussing something really import-”
Haru swiftly kicks Zale under the table, cutting him off as he yelps in pain. "Ouch, hey!" he protests, shooting her a glare. "Why do you girls always have to beat us poor guys up?" he whines, earning a sympathetic pat from Garl as if they’d just survived a battle.
"It's nothing important. Just the usual rants," Haru interjects quickly, keeping her gaze locked on Zale with a silent don’t even think about it look.
Zale, who was now silently exchanging exaggerated looks with Garl, clearly milking their ‘victimhood’ for all it was worth.
Drama queens…
Resh’an watches Zale and Garl's antics briefly before he hums and nods, shifting the conversation. “Okay… Good. Because I actually wanted to discuss the next steps for our journey.”
Valere and Zale exchange a glance, as if they’ve already anticipated the conversation. With renewed determination, Valere speaks up, “We want to leave this world and face Aephorul.”
Resh’an nods, acknowledging their intent but tempers their eagerness “Sure, but you’re not ready to face him yet.” His words draw everyone’s attention immediately. He takes a seat next to Teaks, who remains quiet for once. “The last battle showed me that you are not yet prepared to leave this world, let alone face whatever Aephorul might throw at us. You need to become stronger.”
Valere and Zale exchange a look of understanding. The weight of their situation is starting to sink in. Zale sighs, his voice tinged with frustration and the acceptance of their limitations “You’re right, Resh’an. We weren’t strong enough to even defeat the Dweller… How are we supposed to defeat Aephorul?”
Resh’an shakes his head, his gaze steady but not unkind. “You wouldn't have defeated him even if you had been ready.” His words hang in the air, heavy and final. Valere and Zale’s faces reflect slight confusion, but there is also a quiet acceptance in their expressions. They trust Resh’an, even when his answers aren’t entirely clear for most of the time.
He continues “I’ve asked Hortence to bring us to Mirth first to meet your former master. He’ll know which steps are necessary for your further development. I assume you haven't explored all the Solstice Shrines yet?”
The two kids nod in agreement.
“Good. Then Mirth it is,” Garl announces with his usual big grin, looking excited at the prospect of their next stop. “Can’t wait to see the old geezer’s face when we tell him that all the Dwellers in this world are gone.”
“For now, Garl… We can’t be sure if Aephorul or his acolytes won't come back again,” Valere interjects in a grounding tone. Her words have a sobering effect, pulling Garl and his optimism back to reality.
The group lingers together for a while longer, chatting about the journey ahead and other lighter topics. To Haru’s surprise, the conversations are much more civil than before. Teaks still occasionally winks at her from the side, and Zale flashes his crooked grin, but she isn’t complaining. At least Zale has dropped the subject and stopped asking any more probing questions about her and Resh’an’s relationship. If Zale had kept going, she probably would’ve thrown herself off the side of the ship without a second thought.
It is getting late when the group decides to call it a day. One by one, they stand up from the mess, stretching and yawning as the fatigue from the day’s events catches up with them.
“Go ahead and get some rest. I'll take care of it,” Haru called out, standing up to gather the dirty dishes from the table and head toward the ship’s kitchen.
“Thanks, Haru. We truly appreciate your kindness,” Garl says with a playful bow, grinning widely. “Have a good night.”
"Nah, that’s the least she can do after trying to feed us that fake identity story. She’s got some making up to do," Zale adds with a sly smirk, teasing as usual as he exits the room.
Haru can’t help but snort at their antics, shaking her head, “Idiots…” she mutters to herself as she tidies up the ship’s well-stocked kitchen – thanks to Garl, of course - she notices out of the corner of her eye that Resh’an hasn’t left with the others. He is still sitting at the large table, staring blankly into space.
What is he doing here? A wave of nervousness hits her. What should she say? Should she even say anything? After a moment of hesitation, Haru gathers her courage and addresses him. "Umm…You okay?" she asks cautiously.
Silence.
“Resh’an…?” she repeats, tilting her head in slight irritation.
Again, silence.
With a sigh, Haru turns back to her task, drying the cups with more force than necessary. "So, now I get the silent treatment?" she murmurs to herself, her annoyance barely concealed as she continues working through the pile of dishes.
After a tense silence, Resh'an's voice cuts through the quiet of the kitchen, his voice firm yet calm. "Why did you never tell me?"
Haru pauses, a plate in hand, "Tell you what?" she counters, feigning ignorance though she knows exactly what he's referring to.
"Haru… Don’t do that again. You know exactly what I mean." His voice tries to maintain calm, but she can hear the strain, a subtle crack in his usually composed demeanor.
She sets the plate down a little too loudly. Then silence fills the room for a few beats. Of course, this conversation was inevitable. She has just hoped she’d have more time to gather her thoughts, maybe at least one night to let the dust settle, to calm her racing mind. But now, faced with him, what should she say?
After a few moments of silence, “I thought it wasn’t worth mentioning,” she finally replies, trying to sound nonchalant, though she immediately regrets her choice of words. What is she doing?
“Excuse me?” Resh’an scoffs, the sound of his chair scraping against the floor as he abruptly stands. “You thought it wasn’t worth telling me?” His disbelief is palpable as he takes a few steps toward her.
Haru turns around, startled by how close he has gotten. His cold and intense gaze bores into hers, and for a moment, she is speechless, overwhelmed by the proximity and the aura radiating off him. What is she supposed to say now? That she has been involved with Aephorul, not just once but multiple times, because she felt lost and alone? Because she wanted to forget about Resh’an? That she has slept with the man who has destroyed everything: her family, her people, her entire life—and Resh’an’s as well. And yes, she still feels an immense, crushing guilt about it. So how can she confess that to him?
She should feel like shit. That’s what she has told herself a hundred times. But as the memories of Resh’an and Mina creep back in - the loss, the disappointment - she feels the hurt and anger rise inside her. How audacious is this? The man who has let her down when she needed him most was now standing here, reproaching her. The realisation hits her like a wave of cold fury, and it makes her blood boil.
"You were too wrapped up in your own world. It’s not like you had much time for anyone but Mina.” she answers coldly.
Resh’an’s eyes darken as he takes another step closer to her, his presence now overwhelming. Haru instinctively moves back until her spine presses against the old, wooden kitchen counter. A shiver courses down her body as she sees the storm brewing in his gaze - anger, frustration, all mixed together. His towering figure looms over her, and when he speaks, his voice was cold, detached.
“So that's what you thought? That I wouldn’t care about you anymore?” His bitter chuckle fills the room like shards of broken glass. “That's why you didn't tell me about Aephorul? Because you were jealous? Because you thought I abandoned you? Our bond?” His final words land heavily, his expression somber, almost hurt.
Their bond. Really? "Our bond?" Haru's voice cracks, the sharp edge in her voice slicing through the tension. She isn’t sure if she wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all or hit him in his face. “What bond, Resh'an? The one you neglected while I was left to watch my world fall apart? Oh, right—you were off on your lovey-dovey trip with Mina while Aephorul slaughtered my family in front of me.” Her words are sharp whispers, carrying a venom that makes Resh'an flinch.
Resh’an freezes. The anger that has blazed in his eyes moments ago fades is replaced by wide-eyed guilt and shame. He seems at a loss for words, his breath catching in his throat. He finally whispers, “Haru…” His voice is quiet, fragile, like he has been struck by her words as deeply as she has hoped. “I’m sorry…” The two words hang in the air, heavy with regret.
“No. Don’t.” she says in a firm but trembling voice, holding up a finger to stop him in his tracks. Without hesitation, she moves closer, closing the remaining distance between them until their faces were just inches apart. Resh’an’s proximity is overwhelming. His scent, a familiar blend of herbs and old books, filled the air between them, stirring unwanted memories. But she pushes the thoughts aside, locking eyes with him with an unwavering gaze as she continues.
“If you really want to hear it from me...” Her voice is cold, sharp with the weight of what she is about to say. “Yes, I slept with him. I slept with the man who betrayed me, who killed my family. It was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.” Her words are thick with regret and self-reproach, and she fights the shame that threatens to choke her. “And I don’t ever want to be reminded of it again.”
Resh’an’s expression darkens instantly, but he stays silent, his body tense and his jaw clenched. His eyes now flicker with a mix of emotions: disgust, disappointment and something else she couldn’t quite place. Betrayal? Hurt? Whatever it is, the storm brewing behind his gaze only fuels her frustration.
“And now? You’re trying to guilt trip me?” she continues, letting out a bitter huff at the absurdity. “How fitting… the person who lied to me and left me hanging more than once, now standing here pretending like you’re on some moral high ground.” The raw emotion of jealousy and frustration in her voice are impossible to hide.
He says nothing, just staring at her. She can feel the tension between them, the heat radiating off his body, the weight of his gaze burning into her. If he hasn’t been wearing his veil, she is sure she would’ve felt his breath on her skin. The intensity of the moment makes her dizzy, her heart pounding in her chest as she fights the overwhelming emotions that threaten to consume her. She realises this was probably what Zale has been trying to tell her earlier – the arguing, the tension, the intense, lingering gazes between them. Maybe they do look like one of those bickering, embittered ex-couples.
She speaks up again to distract herself from the proximity “I know that it started with her when you dumped me at the festival.” Her voice is cold and detached.
Her words hit Resh’an hard, his expression changes entirely, his eyes widening with realization, a mixture of shock and regret flickering across his face. He looks down, unable to meet her gaze, visibly struggling with his response. He struggles for words, barely managing, “Haru… how did you…”
It feels ridiculous to be this upset about events from thousands of years ago. But she can't stop; it is like a dam has finally broken, allowing her to release everything she’s bottled up for so long. Haru lets out a shaky exhale, trying to quickly gather herself, shaking her head with a sigh. Her voice is quiet, almost resigned, as she continues.
“You really thought I wouldn’t find out? There was no accident at the academy, Resh’an. You just ditched me…” She let out a frustrated huff, her voice tight with pent-up disappointment. “And you know what the worst part is? Your pathetic excuses afterwards. You lied straight to my face, and I knew the truth all along. But it didn’t matter to you, did it? Because she was all that mattered. It was so easy for you to cast aside your best friend for a manipulative snitch.” Haru’s voice cracks, her back turned to him as she busies herself with the dishes, hands trembling with the force of her emotions. She needs something to ground herself but it doesn’t seem to work well.
Resh’an stands there, his expression contorted with guilt, until his gaze hardens at the mention of Mina. “Haru,” he says slowly, a note of warning in his voice. “I don’t want you to talk about Mina like that.”
Haru whirls, her eyes alight with disappointment and hurt. “Really? That’s your response? That I should mind my tone?”
“I… just don’t appreciate the way you talk about her.”
This is ridiculous. He is ridiculous. She can't understand how she is pouring her heart out and all he cared about is that she is insulting Mina. It just pisses her more off. “Right. Of course, sorry,” Haru replies, pulling her hands up mockingly, her tone cold and edged with sarcasm. “Wouldn’t want to disrespect your precious Mina.”
Resh’an’s frown deepens, irritation flashing across his face. “Haru…” His voice is low, almost threatening, but Haru doesn’t flinch as he continues. “Are you seriously blaming me for being with someone who’s long dead because you were jealous? I can’t change the past. So, tell me—what’s actually your problem?”
“My problem?” Haru repeats, scoffing in disbelief. His words hit her hard. She can't believe he is being so dismissive of her actual feelings. “You are the problem, Resh’an. The way you’re throwing accusations at me over my past with Aephorul while acting like you’ve done nothing wrong.” And that he doesn’t give any fuck about her feelings at all.
Resh'an shakes his head, his disapproval clear and his fists clenched at his sides. "You can't compare the two," he argues "It's not the same, Haru. Mina was just a mortal - a human - while Aephorul... He was once our friend, but now he's our enemy. He's responsible for countless lives and worlds."
Haru’s eyes narrow at him in annoyance "Sorry, but I didn't know at the time he'd turn into a mass murderer. How could I?"
Silence settles between them for a moment before Resh’an tilts his head slightly, his expression shifting as he looks down at her, almost incredulous. “Isn’t it strange?” he says, his gaze sharp and his tone cool and probing. “If you were so close to him, how could you not have noticed anything?”
“What exactly are you implying, Resh’an?”
“Spending all that time with Aephorul, and nothing seemed off to you? Not a single sign?” he asks in a flat, distant tone. “Were you so blinded by… what? Love? Or was it ignorance?”
This little piece of shit. Hearing those words from him stings, a fresh wound on an old scar. She glares up at him, their faces close “So what, Resh’an? You’re telling me I should’ve known?” She gives him a small push to put distance between them, her voice taut with restrained anger. “Are you saying it’s my fault? That I’m somehow responsible for the horror he created?”
She takes a shaky breath, forcing herself not to break down in front of him, though the guilt gnaws at her. The truth is, deep down, she has noticed things. She remembers the undeniable changes—the way Aephorul has become colder, more distant. How he has gradually distanced himself from the "normal world" and instead created his own twisted reality with his sick experiments—discoveries she only learned about when it was already too late. But she has never imagined he’d go this far. Never dreamed he would turn into a monster.
“I never wanted any of this…” she whispers, clenching her fists to stop the trembling in her hands. Her gaze meets his briefly, resignation etched across her face, a bitter chuckle escapes her. “But you don’t care, do you? About what happened back then… About me…About anything...” With a heavy sigh, she tosses the towel she used to dry the dishes onto the counter and walks past him, eager to finally leave the kitchen. Without looking back, she speaks up again, her voice quiet and detached. “You really have become a cold, apathetic asshole. But that would explain why you didn’t do anything to save Garl back at the castle…” With that, she leaves the kitchen, leaving him behind as she heads to her cabin.
With a heavy heart, Haru makes her way to her cabin and throws herself onto her bed. Sleep is out of the question. Staring up at the ceiling, her mind races with a flood of thoughts. It is absurd, she realizes, for them to be fighting over things that happened thousands of years ago, yet the emotions are as raw as if it had all just happened. They were both stuck in the past, tangled up in old wounds that have never truly healed, opening them again and again.
But she can’t help it. The emotions and pain spilled over. And she saw it in his eyes - the disapproval, the hint of disgust when she confirmed her relationship with Aephorul. And this reaction has shattered her, making her feel more ashamed and guilty for what she did. She knew she had turned to Aephorul because she had felt abandoned by Resh’an, who left a void that Aephorul had stepped into. But how can she ever explain that to him?
She is supposed to be better than this - better than dwelling on the past and clinging to old pain. But tonight has shattered that illusion. And as for Resh’an? He is no longer the friend she once knew. That much is painfully clear. They have both changed and time has pulled them apart. Their old friendship – the bond they once shared - is gone. The realisation hurts deeply.
Notes:
Resh'an did her dirty here.
Thanks for reading :)
Chapter 14: Mooncradle
Notes:
Merry Christmas :)
After being in Japan for a few weeks (and being sick -.-) I'm finally back again with the newest chapter :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Present
The atmosphere has grown increasingly awkward over the past few days. The others clearly feel the tension between Resh’an and Haru, the thick silence that hangs between them since that night in the kitchen. Not a single word has passed between them, and even Zale refrains from his usual jabs and jokes. Seeing the palpable tension, he wisely decides to keep his mouth shut.
Haru spends her time on the ship working on her water manipulation skills or demonstrating her wind magic to the group. Keenathan in particular is mesmerized by her precision. He watches her intently, almost gawking, and eagerly asks for tips on controlling the wind. At first, Haru feels overwhelmed by the interest in her abilities, but she gradually warms to their enthusiasm. It provides a welcome distraction from her thoughts. It gives her something to focus on—something that isn’t Resh’an, though she can’t help noticing him sometimes watching in silence, his presence a quiet weight in the background.
By the time they reach Mirth that evening, the air feels lighter with the promise of solid ground beneath their feet. Moraine is already waiting for them. As the group updates him on their journey, his expression shifts from concern - especially at the details about Erlina and Brugaves - to relief when he sees that his younger former students are safe.
“That the Dwellers are gone for now is all that matters,” Moraine says as the group gathers in his cozy new living room. “We can only pray that the Fleshmancer won’t return. For now, I’m just glad you all came back unharmed.”
As the conversation continues between the three kids, Moraine's gaze lingers on Resh'an, a silent exchange seeming to pass between them. The Immortal Alchemist meets his stare with his characteristic stoicism, neither man breaking the silent assessment. It is as if they are communicating through an unspoken language, leaving the rest of the group subtly excluded from their quiet deliberation.
Valere brings Moraine back to the present as she suddenly addresses him again “We’re actually after him. We might have strong companions with us, but Zale and I… we need to get stronger,” she says, her expression determined. “We want to visit the next shrine on Evermist Island.”
Moraine nods thoughtfully at her request, his hand rubbing over his chin. “That’s wise. To stand a chance against the Fleshmancer and his abominations, you must visit all the Shrines in this world before you leave.” Rising from his chair, he crosses the room to a small, aged wooden cabinet. He opens a drawer and retrieves an ornate key, which he then holds out toward Valere and Zale.
“Here. This is the key to my office at Zenith Academy. You’ll find information there that could be of use to you, as well as the key to the shrine on Evermist Island.”
Valere and Zale exchange a glance before nodding in unison. “Thank you, master,” Valere says sincerely.
Moraine lets out a quiet sigh, shaking his head with a hint of exasperation. “I’ve told you before—I’ve retired. I’m no longer your master. I’m just the town elder now. Please, just call me Moraine.”
The duo appears sheepish yet affectionate. "Sorry, it's hard to adjust," Zale admits sheepishly, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, with Valere nodding in agreement. "But you'll always be our master."
Moraine sighs again, this time more resigned than before, though a small, warm smile tugs at the corners of his lips. " “I suppose some things will never change," he concedes. After a brief pause, he then gestures expansively to the surroundings. “Please, make yourselves at home in Mirth tonight. The villagers would be glad to see you all again. Rest, enjoy the evening - it’s the least we can offer after everything you’ve been through.”
Garl’s face lights up instantly. “We’d love that! I think we all could use an evening with friends and some good food.” His characteristic grin widens as he looks around at the group, clearly pleased at the thought of a warm, communal night after so much tension and danger.
As evening falls, the lively atmosphere fills the village square of Mirth, illuminated by the warm glow of lanterns. The group gathers around a long wooden table for an entertaining night filled with laughter and plenty of food. The kids are in high spirits, drinking and joking with each other. Haru sits nearby, a small smile on her face as she listens to their banter. She can’t help but enjoy the energy, even if she doesn’t always join in.
Zale, sitting directly across from Haru, gestures animatedly with a chicken drumstick in hand. “Val, you’ve gotta eat more! We’ve got to be at full strength if we’re taking on another shrine” he declares between bites.
Garl nods in agreement and shoves another potato into his mouth. “He’s got a point, Val. You need those proteins and carbs if we’re gonna kick some Dweller butt.”
Valere snorts, her mischievous grin only widening as she sips from her cup. Her flushed cheeks give away how relaxed she has become thanks to the alcohol. “Food isn’t going to help, Zale. You’ll still be weaker than me no matter how many drumsticks you eat,” she quips, leaning back with a smug expression.
Zale freezes mid-bite, his jaw dropping slightly. “Excuse me? Weaker? Val, I am clearly stronger than you!” His grip tightens dramatically on the drumstick, as if it symbolizes his strength.
“Oh, here we go,” Serai mutters, rolling her eyes in annoyance as the two begin their usual back-and-forth. “It’s like watching toddlers fight over a toy.” She tips her beer back, draining the entire mug in one impressive gulp.
Haru can’t help but laugh, giving her an approving nod. Without saying a word, she raises her own cup and matches Serai’s action, downing her beer in solidarity. Honestly, there isn’t any other way to endure their nonsense. “I definitely need more of this…” she mutters under her breath as she sets her empty cup down with a satisfying clink.
The bickering between Zale and Valere only escalates, their voices rising in mock outrage as they compare the virtues of Lunar and Solar magic.
“Lunar magic’s precision makes it superior!” Valere declares, slamming her fork down for emphasis.
“Precision’s great, but the raw power of the sun? That’s what wins fights,” Zale shoots back with a glare.
Serai and Haru exchange a glance, and Serai lets out an exaggerated groan. “Someone get me another beer before I lose it.”
Haru chuckles and signals for a refill. “Make it two. If they’re not going to stop, we’re going to need more than this to survive the night.”
Suddenly, as if struck by a brilliant idea, Garl leans forward and speaks up, interrupting Valere and Zale’s argument, “If you two really want to get stronger, why don’t you ask Haru here to train you as a sword master?”
Haru, mid-sip of her new beer, nearly chokes, coughing as she tried to compose herself. “W-What?? Sword Master?” she sputters, her voice tinged with disbelief. Her eyes dart to Garl, searching for signs that he is joking, but he just grins at her. Where on earth does he get that idea? Sure, she has fought with a sword—or katana—for decades, but calling herself a master? That was an entirely different matter.
Zale and Valere immediately stop their squabbling and turn their attention to Haru, intrigued by the suggestion. Garl nudges Haru playfully, clearly enjoying the chaos he has unleashed, “Come on, Haru! You’ve been wielding that katana like a pro. You’d be a great combat teacher for these two! Right, Resh’an?” He turns to the alchemist, who has been sitting quietly at the end of the table, seemingly lost in thought all evening.
The whole group collectively shifts their attention to Resh’an. Haru’s heart begins to race as she watches him. He has barely acknowledged anyone all night, and now, the entire table waits for his input as he observes the duo. She isn’t actually sure what she fears more - his agreement or his disapproval.
Resh’an meets the gaze of Valere and Zale before his eyes flick to Haru. After a brief pause, he finally replies in his calm, measured tone and with an unreadable expression. “Indeed, she could. If you want to refine your combat skills and stances, Haru might be the best opportunity you’ll have right now.”
Haru blinks in surprise at his words. After their heated exchange the night before, she hasn’t expected him to support the idea - or her - for that matter. His agreement catches her off guard, leaving her momentarily speechless.
Zale wastes no time in breaking the silence. “See? Even Resh’an thinks it’s a good idea! Come on, Haru, we’re definitely in!”
Haru hesitates, glancing at the expectant faces around the table. She sighs, knowing it would be hard to refuse now. She doesn’t want to let them down - and maybe she can even improve her own skills by incorporating her newfound water bending into combat.
“Alright,” she says slowly, her voice tinged with wariness. “I’ll give it a try, but don’t expect too much. I’ve never exactly been the best teacher.”
Valere and Zale's faces brighten immediately at Haru's agreement. Zale leans back in his chair, a mischievous spark in his eye as he quips, “We don’t need some stuck-up teacher or master like the old geezer. Just beat our asses as hard as you can.”
Haru huffs, a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “Fine,” she replies, crossing her arms with mock seriousness. “If that’s all it takes, I’ll gladly look forward to kicking your asses again and again. But don’t come crying to me when you’re too sore to move.” She can’t deny it - their enthusiasm is infectious, and it motivates her too.
Garl’s cheerful grin widens as he raises his mug high in the air. “Let’s drink to that!”
Serai, who has been somewhat detached from the conversation until now, raises her own freshly filled mug and clinks it against Garl’s. “Finally, something worth celebrating,” she says, a rare spark of amusement in her voice.
As their mugs meet, Garl’s cheeks flush slightly—not from the alcohol but from the sudden attention from Serai. He grins sheepishly at her, scratching the back of his neck. “You know,” he says, attempting to sound casual but failing to hide his nervous energy, “you could join the training too, Serai. Might be fun watching you kick Zale’s ass alongside Haru.”
Serai raises an eyebrow as she gives him a side-eye. “You think I need training to kick your asses? Cute.”
Garl laughs, the sound a bit too eager, and raises his mug again. “Alright, you win, but it’d still be nice to see you in action. You’re already impressive, Serai, but a little sparring never hurt anyone.”
Serai rolls her eyes but the softened expression in her eyes betrayed her. “Maybe. If I feel like it.”
A small, pleased smile crosses Haru’s lips as she watches their interaction in silence. And for a moment, she feels herself relax, forgetting about her own problems - even if only for a little while.
The group doesn’t take long to reach Mooncradle on Evermist Island, the hometown of the Solstice Warriors. The villagers greet them with open arms, relief and joy evident on their faces as they embrace the trio they have feared lost. After a heartfelt reunion, Valere and Zale waste no time, setting off for Zenith Academy - the splendid facility hovering far above their village on a vast sky island.
Haru takes in her surroundings as they walk through the village. No matter how many worlds Haru has visited, Mooncradle always feels like it is pulled straight from the pages of a fantasy novel. It is the home of the Solstice Warriors, where the Great Eagle—one of Resh’an’s countless substitutes—would deliver the Solar and Lunar Children during a Solstice. Zenith Academy is dedicated to training the Warriors, preparing them for their journey to face Aephorul’s creations.
Haru, Garl, and Serai follow the duo onto the magical stone lift that ascends toward the sky island. As they rise higher, Haru’s curiosity grows. She has seen many versions of this village before, but she has never ventured to the Academy itself, respecting the sacred rules that governed the Solstice Warriors. Now, with no proper Headmaster to enforce those rules, things were different.
When the lift arrives, Garl’s jaw practically hits the floor. He gazes around the Academy’s buildings and surroundings with wide eyes, his excitement barely contained. “I’ve always dreamed of coming here, visiting you two,” he says, practically bouncing with enthusiasm. “And now we can just walk around together like it’s completely normal! Without the fear of getting caught”
His wonder is contagious, and even Serai escapes a small, amused snort as she trails behind. Haru can’t help but feel a twinge of awe herself, though she keeps it to herself, her gaze lingering on the intricate architecture and the sense of history woven into the walls.
The architecture of the Zenith Academy mirrors the aesthetic of Mooncradle, with intricate designs symbolizing the sun and moon woven seamlessly into its structures. The earthy tones of the stonework blend harmoniously with accents of gold and deep purple, giving the academy an air of mystery and magic. Floating purple trees surround the buildings, reminding Haru of the wizard’s library near Brisk where she met the kids in person for the first time.
Walking into the main hall, Haru can’t help but notice details that hint at ancient craftsmanship. The smooth stones used for the walls - clearly moonstone and sunstone - glimmer faintly under the blue and orange light. Violet-coloured glass windows cast soft, colorful patterns on the purple floors where the sunlight streams through and beautiful, ornate carvings of the Solstice symbols adorn the arched doorways.
After walking through the grand entrance and spacious main hall, the group finally stops at a large, imposing door. Valere pulls out a key, her movements purposeful as she unlocks it. The door creaks open, revealing a room that is clearly Moraine’s office. The space is cosy yet packed with knowledge. Shelves lined with old tomes, jars of mysterious ingredients, and ancient trinkets cover the walls, enveloping the room in a scholarly atmosphere. A large wooden table is placed in the centre of the room.
Haru wanders around, her fingers lightly brushing against the spines of the books, taking in the variety of volumes on history, magical theories, and training guides. The subtle scent of aged parchment and ink fills the air, tugging at her memories of similar spaces she has visited many times in other worlds.
“Where the hell is it?” Zale mutters, rummaging through the desk drawers with a focused frown. His expression suddenly brightens as he triumphantly pulls out a golden key. “Got it!” he exclaims, holding it up for everyone to see.
As the group continues exploring the office, the younger Warriors can’t resist poking through Moraine’s belongings. They rifle through drawers and shelves, hoping to stumble upon something useful for their journey - or as Zale puts it, looking for something embarrassing that Moraine has hidden away where he thought no one would find it.
Unfortunately for Zale, their rummaging doesn’t yield anything else of interest. With no further distractions, the group makes their way to the Academy’s training facilities.
Haru takes in the surroundings, impressed by the setup. The training area is expansive, an open courtyard surrounded by purple trees and bushes. The large, open space allows sparring and physical exercises, while smaller, sectioned-off areas cater to more focused training sessions. Next to the open space, there is a building with an armoury, racks holding an assortment of practice weapons, from simple wooden swords and wooden staves to finely-crafted blades and staffs designed for advanced combat practice.
Haru scans the training grounds, noting the lack of natural water sources. "We’re gonna do some training sessions on the ground as well," she remarks, already strategizing how to adapt her water-based techniques with the limited resources available. A few barrels should be sufficient, when they do the training up here.
Zale and Valere nod silently, their expressions unusually serious as they stand at attention, looking at Haru expectantly. She is clearly surprised by their earnestness. They are truly taking this training seriously. A sly smile spreads across her face as she crosses her arms. “Good. We’ll start here tomorrow morning,” she announces with a hint of playful authority. “Don’t be late, students!”
She can’t help but chuckle to herself. She feels a lightness amidst the recent turmoil, appreciating the chance to focus on something constructive and forward-looking.
It is early morning when Haru quietly gets up, the village is still wrapped in the serenity of sleep. She moves carefully through the community center, her footsteps light as she tries not to disturb anyone. Stepping outside, the air is cool and crisp, the faint light of dawn beginning to filter through the trees. Haru knows it was earlier than necessary, but she wants to ensure everything is ready for the training session. First on her list: filling the barrels with water and carry them to the sky island.
As she fills the barrels with water with weary eyes, the stillness of the early hour is broken by an unexpected voice that echoes through the quiet forest.
“Looks like you might need a hand.”
Startled, Haru nearly swings the water barrel at the unexpected intruder as she spins around. “Garl!” she exclaims, her heart racing in her chest.
Garl immediately raises his hands in mock surrender, his sheepish grin doing little to hide his amusement. “Whoa! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought you might need some help,” he says, offering her an apologetic smile.
Haru groans, rubbing her temples. “You can’t just… sneak up on people like that!” she replies, recalling the time she nearly decapitated him in the wizard’s library. The memory makes her wince with guilt. With a resigned sigh, she mutters, “Ugh… never mind. Actually, yeah, I could use some help.”
Garl’s grin widens, his enthusiasm infectious. “Say no more!” he declares as he quickly grabs the two filled barrels. Hoisting them with ease, he starts making his way toward the academy lift.
Haru blinks, watching him with mild astonishment. She picks up the third barrel, adjusting its weight as she follows Garl to the lift. “Why are you up so early, anyway?” she asks, her tone light but curious.
Garl turns his head slightly, a grin playing on his lips. “I couldn’t sleep anymore. I guess I’m just too excited about what’s going to happen today.”
Haru sighs, shaking her head. “Garl, please. You’re all expecting way too much from me.” Her voice softens as she continues, unable to keep the nervousness out. “I don’t want to let you down.” The weight of her companions’ expectations presses heavily on her shoulders, and it is hard not to feel overwhelmed and a bit stressed about it.
Garl stops abruptly, setting the barrels down on the lift’s platform with a heavy thud. He turns to her, his expression one of genuine shock. “What? No, no, no—don’t ever think that again. Don’t even go there,” he says firmly.
Before Haru has time to respond, Garl steps closer, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. The warmth and sincerity in his gesture catches her off guard. “Haru, you’re strong. You saved my life back there,” he declares, his voice filled with emotion. “And you broke Aephorul’s nose, which, by the way, was pretty epic!” He grins, his eyes shining with genuine admiration. “That’s not just impressive - You’re a badass.”
Haru is momentarily taken aback by his words. Does he really think that about her? For so long, she has seen herself as nothing but a failure. Losing her family and friends has left her feeling like she could never be good enough and everyone around her just dies because of her incompetence. That is actually the main reason why she didn’t want to join their team in the first place. But hearing Garl’s heartfelt praise… It stirs something inside her. For the first time in a long time, she feels valued - appreciated - and not completely incapable.
A soft smile plays across her face, as the suppressed emotions inside her struggle to break free. She really has to pull herself together not to start crying in front of him. “Thank you, Garl,” she replies quietly, her voice strained. “I guess I really needed to hear that.”
“I mean it. Everyone thinks you’re a force to be reckoned with. Even Resh’an,” Garl states with a wink.
Haru freezes for a moment, her eyes widening as she stares at him in surprise. Resh’an? She turns to Garl instinctively, but quickly averts her gaze, pretending to focus on the shrinking village below as the lift steadily ascended toward the Zenith Academy. Her cheeks flush ever so slightly, and she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from reacting further. They… all think that? Even Resh’an?
She has always assumed Resh’an views her as reckless, or worse, weak—not someone to admire. The idea that he might have thought differently catches her off guard, leaving her uncharacteristically flustered.
If Garl notices her reaction, he is kind enough not to comment on it. Instead, he grins, adjusting the weight of the barrels as the lift finally reaches its destination. “If you ever need more pep talks, you know where to find me,” he says, flashing her a bright, reassuring smile as they step off the lift.
A warmth spreads through Haru’s chest, soothing some of the deeper, jagged edges of her self-doubt. Garl really is something else. His steadfast support and casual cheer brighten her spirits more than she expected. The small, genuine smile continues to tug at her lips as they make their way toward the Zenith Academy’s training grounds. For the first time in days, she feels genuinely motivated. She is eager to prove herself and live up to the unexpected faith they’ve placed in her.
Later that morning, the three finally meet up at the training grounds. Zale looks like he’d rather still be in bed, a deep scowl etched onto his face as he rubs his eyes. Haru feels a little bad about dragging them out so early, but time is precious, and she wants to make the most of their stay in Mooncradle.
“We’re going to start with the basics and work our way up,” Haru announces, tossing a wooden staff to Valere and a dulled practice sword to Zale. “Grab your weapons and get ready.”
She takes her own wooden practice sword in hand, gripping the hilt firmly. The moment her fingers curl around the handle, her demeanor shifts - focused and sharp, like a predator sizing up her prey. And before either Valere or Zale could blink, Haru suddenly appears in front of Zale, striking like lightning. With a swift, controlled movement, she drives the blunt handle of the wooden sword into his stomach.
Zale let out a strangled sound - a mix between a squeak and a groan - as the blow knocks the wind out of him. He stumbles back and nearly loses his balance, clutching his stomach with wide eyes. “What the hell, Haru?!”
“Don’t sleep on me, Zale. Keep your eyes open,” Haru chides, stepping back into a ready stance with a calm, almost smug expression. “Your carelessness nearly cost you an eye.”
Zale’s annoyed glare could have burned a hole straight through her. “You got me by surprise! You could’ve given me a warning or something.”
Haru huffs out a quiet laugh, tilting her head slightly. “Your enemies won’t send you an invitation either, Zale.”
As he realizes that she has a point, Zale groans in frustration, muttering curses under his breath. Without responding further, he lunges at her with the wooden sword. Haru sidesteps effortlessly, her movements fluid and precise, and with a swift push to his back, she sent him sprawling face-first onto the ground.
“Too slow,” she declares matter-of-factly. “And you’re too emotional,” she adds as she looks down at Zale, hands on her hips, her tone both critical and teasing. “That clouds your rational thinking and makes you clumsy.” She extended her hand to help him up. “Even your solar magic won't get you anywhere like that”
Zale mutters something incoherent under his breath, clearly sulking, but he takes her hand anyway, hauling himself to his feet.
Valere can’t help but laugh at the scene, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Zale’s too emotional~” she teases with a sing-song voice.
“Don’t laugh too much, Val!” Zale shoots back, glaring at her as he brushes himself off. “You’ll get your turn too!”
“She’s right, though,” Haru chimes in. “You’re a little too easy to rile up, Zale.”
The training continues with Haru drilling them on basic defense and offense techniques. Valere and Zale are far from novices, and their natural skill shows as they pick things up quickly. Still, Haru’s rigorous methods push them harder than they have anticipated. It doesn’t take long for her no-nonsense teaching style to show itself on the next days. She is merciless and pushes them to their limits without a hint of hesitation, but they improve quickly.
“Ouch,” Zale groans after being knocked down for what feels like the hundredth time. He rubs his arm, shooting Haru a wounded look. “You’re a cruel woman.”
Haru lets out an amused huff, rolling her eyes playfully at his dramatic whining. “You asked for this, sunny boy. Don’t start crying now.”
Valere is holding up better and her movements are sharp despite the exhaustion creeping onto her face. She doesn’t complain like Zale, though Haru can still see the tension in her expression—the barely concealed winces when she blocks too hard or takes a hit. Haru can’t help but wonder, if Valere is planning to sneak up on her bedside later that night and smother her with a pillow in her sleep.
After four days of intensive training, Haru decides it was time to take things to the next level. After their warm-up, she carries out the barrels of water she has brought up to the academy with Garl’s help. The two Solstice Warriors watch her curiously as she positions them on the training grounds.
“What’s with the barrels?” Zale asks casually, taking a swig from his water bottle as he leans against a nearby post, still catching his breath from their grueling morning warm-up.
Haru pries open the lids, revealing the barrels brimming with clear water. Zale tilts his head, his expression a mix of curiosity and confusion. “Water?”
“I want to integrate our magic into combat,” Haru explains, rolling up her sleeves. “And I’m going to use this water to practice my water manipulation. It’s something I’ve been working on, but I still have a long way to go.”
Zale nods slowly, though he looked a bit wary, as if anticipating an unexpected drenching. Valere remains silent but observant, her intense gaze fixed on the barrels as Haru begins to direct the water upward with her hands.
Haru spends a few minutes testing her water manipulation. The water responds sluggishly at first, swirling unevenly in the air. Haru clenches her jaw, concentrating. She is far from a master, but she has improved, managing a few basic attack and defensive techniques. With a concentrated effort, she directs the water to form a translucent shield around her, shimmering faintly in the light. She sighs - a bit dissatisfied with the result – and flexes her fingers around her weapon and steps into position.
“Alright,” she says, readying herself. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Zale and Valere exchange a glance, then step into the sparring circle.
The fight begins with Zale launching a torrid burst of Solar Magic toward Haru. She raises her water shield in time, the liquid hardening upon impact, dispersing the golden light in ripples. Haru then counters by sending a sharp jet of water spiralling toward him. Zale barely managed to dodge, his boots skidding across the ground.
Haru doesn’t respond, instead flicking her wrist to draw the water back into her shield. In the next moment, Valere steps in, her Lunar Magic casting a soft, ethereal glow as she summoned crescent-shaped projectiles that zip through the air like blades. Haru ducks and swirls the water around her to deflect them. One projectile strikes her face and cuts into her cheek, causing her to hiss softly in pain.
Zale surges forward, his movements aggressive, the light of his Solar Magic radiating in heated bursts. Haru counters by directing a gust of wind to knock him off balance, forcing him to stagger back. Meanwhile, Valere capitalizes on Haru’s distraction, flanking her and sending a wave of silvery magic cascading toward her.
Haru spins on her heel, using the wind to amplify her speed and reflexes. She redirects the water into a twisting spiral, meeting Valere’s attack head-on. The resulting collision sends droplets scattering like rain, the air alive with the crackle of magic and elemental energy.
Zale doesn’t waste a second. He charges forward, flames swirling around his fists, and aims a fiery uppercut. Haru counters by creating a concentrated vortex of wind, spinning it rapidly enough to extinguish the flames and force Zale to stumble back once again. Lightning crackles at her fingertips as she channels her elemental skills once again, sending a small but sharp bolt toward Zale’s feet. He jumps back just in time, but the look on his face was a mix of annoyance and admiration.
“You’ve got some moves, Haru,” Zale admits. “I might even call you scary. But we won’t give up.”
Haru laughs as the air around her crackles with lightning energy “I won’t allow you to give up anyway”
The fight continues, each of them pushing their limits. The interplay of solar and lunar magic and other elements create a stunning yet chaotic battlefield. The battle reaches its peak as Zale and Valere coordinate their attacks with near-perfect synergy. They combine their solar and lunar magic to create a sun-infused lunar projectile that pushes Haru onto the defensive. She dodges and deflects the bouncing projectile as best as she could, weaving wind and water into a desperate barrier to stave off their relentless assault.
But the strain is evident. In a final attempt to gain the upper hand, Haru concentrates her energy, channelling her frustration and adrenaline into the water around her. A sudden chill fills the air, and without warning, the water surges forward and solidified in an instant - encasing Zale entirely in a block of ice.
There is silence for a moment.
“Y-YOU CAN FREEZE IT?!” Zale yells, his voice a mix of shock and disbelief as his head remains the only part free from the icy prison.
Haru, equally surprised by her newfound ability, stares at the ice-encased Zale. A moment of silence follows as she processes what just happened. Then, seeing Zale's shocked face poking out of the ice sculpture he's become, she can't hold back a burst of laughter.
"Whoopsie…"
“Hey! This is NOT funny!” Zale huffs, his breath fogging up in the cold air. “Please let me out…” he whines pitifully, his voice muffled slightly by the thick ice encasing him as he futilely wriggles against his frozen prison.
Haru scratches her jaw, her expression equal parts sheepish and amused. “Uh… I’m not really sure how,” she admits, her voice tinged with nervous laughter. “I mean, I’ve never done that before… It just sort of… happened.”
Zale lets out a drawn-out groan, his frustration evident. “You… You can’t be serious…”
Valere crosses her arms, her incredulous look directed squarely at Zale. “Are you serious, Zale? You’re a Solar Warrior. Just use your magic to melt the ice.”
Zale glares at her, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, brilliant idea, princess. Except for one tiny problem—how am I supposed to use my magic when my whole body is frozen? You know I need to move my hands to channel it!”
Haru can’t help but burst into another fit of laughter, wiping tears from her eyes as she steps closer. “Alright, sunny boy, hold still. I’ll fix this… eventually.” She cracks her knuckles with a grin, clearly enjoying herself a little too much. She and Valere try to break the ice, first with brute force and then with every kind of weapon the armoury has to offer, but the ice proves to be too thick and too resilient.
“Ugh, this is useless,” Haru mutters under her breath, standing back to assess the situation.
Zale, meanwhile, is teetering on the edge of a full-blown meltdown. “Useless? Useless?! You’ve frozen me solid, and now you’re telling me you can’t fix it?”
Valere groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Enough whining, Zale. I’ll go get Resh’an,” she says, turning on her heel, clearly done with the noise.
Before she can take another step, Resh’an, who has been quietly observing the training session from a shaded corner of the grounds, finally makes his presence known. He strides over to the group, his expression calm but with a faint trace of amusement.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you there either,” Resh’an remarks dryly, his eyes scanning Zale’s frozen predicament.
All three turn their gazes to Resh’an in surprise. Zale’s face falls even further, his tone now bordering on despair. “What do you mean, you can’t help?! You’re kidding, right? You’re the almighty Resh’an! The ancient alchemist who’s supposed to have the solution to everything!”
Resh’an quirks an eyebrow at Zale, unimpressed by the outburst. “Yes, but unfortunately for you, unfreezing overly dramatic Solar Warriors wasn’t part of my repertoire when I last checked. Besides, think of it as a good exercise for further developing your solar powers.”
Valere snorts at the jab, crossing her arms as she leans against a nearby pillar. “Well, Zale, looks like you’re on your own.”
Haru clearly struggles to contain her laughter, taken aback by Resh'an's blunt reaction. She already feels guilty but doesn't know how to help herself. She gives Zale an apologetic look, hoping for his forgiveness.
Zale’s mouth falls open, his expression one of utter despair. “You’re all really cruel, you know that? You could just help me out, but instead, you’re all standing there watching me suffer.”
Resh’an folds his arms, his expression calm but purposeful. He gives him a reassuring nod “These moments, Zale, are the ones that help you mature the most.”
Valere tries to stifle her laughter but fails, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Oh, come on, Zale. You’ll figure it out. Like Resh’an said, consider it… character building.”
The group settles into a waiting game. Resh’an provides occasional guidance, his tone measured and encouraging as he offers suggestions. Valere watches with amusement, her smirk growing wider each time Zale huffs or groans in frustration. Haru, on the other hand, can’t help but feel a pang of guilt as she watches the Solar Warrior struggle against the icy prison she inadvertently created.
Valere approaches Zale. "Remember what the old geezer said back then? You need to feel the magic course through your body. Take a grip on it to manifest it in any way you want… Or something like that…" she says nonchalant.
"Well, thanks for that constructive input, it’s nothing I didn’t already know, Valere…" Zale retorts with an annoyed huff. "It’s not as easy as you think it is..."
But finally, after what feels like an eternity, a change occurs. Determination flashes across Zale’s face, and with a deep breath, he channels his solar powers more intensely than ever before. The ice surrounding him begins to crack, then glows faintly before melting entirely in a sudden burst of radiant heat.
Zale stumbles forward, as the last remnants of ice dissolve into steam around him. A bright golden aura seems to shimmer faintly around him, as though something inside him has awakened.
The group stares in awe for a moment, and then Haru finally breaks the silence with a clap of her hands. “Thank the gods… And here I thought we'd have to sit here until tomorrow morning.”
Zale glares at her, though a hint of a smile tugs at his lips. “Next time, Haru, just warn me before you unleash a new superpower on me, alright?”
Haru snickers, giving him a shy smile “Can’t promise that...”
Resh’an gives a slight nod. “Not bad, Zale. It seems you’ve taken a significant step forward today.”
“Guess you’re stronger than I thought, sunny boy.” Valere teases, still smirking at Zale.
For once, Zale doesn’t argue. Instead, he leans against a nearby barrel, grinning smugly. “Yeah… I guess I am. You'd better improve quickly, or I'll leave you behind, Val.”
Haru makes her way to the armoury, hauling the weapon dummies used during the day’s training. The week-long sessions at Zenith Academy have been grueling, but undeniably productive. The progress is evident on all sides—Zale and Valere’s techniques had sharpened considerably, and Haru herself had refined her offensive and defensive water skills in live combat scenarios. After Zale awakened his inner Solar powers—Resh’an has called him Solen, a name linked to one of the Guardian Gods—Valere was fired up, determined to awaken her own latent Lunar abilities.
As Haru places the dummies on the armoury table, a sigh escapes her lips. Her muscles ache from today’s intense session, and her thoughts drift to the strained silence between her and Resh’an. It has been nearly a week since their confrontation in the ship’s kitchen, and they haven’t spoken directly since. Though he occasionally watches their training sessions and offers Valere and Zale pointers, he never comments on Haru’s fighting style. His expression remains inscrutable, his gaze distant, and it gnaws at her more than she cares to admit.
Setting the weapons back in their places, Haru tries to brush off the lingering hurt. She is too proud to approach him first, especially after his accusations. The wounds they have reopened are still raw, and the thought of broaching another conversation with him feels like trying to navigate a minefield.
Lost in her thoughts, she almost doesn’t hear the faint footsteps approaching. The sound jolts her out of her reverie, and she turns quickly, slightly startled, to find herself face-to-face with Resh’an.
His steady gaze meets hers, his expression calm yet carrying an undercurrent of tension she can’t quite place. For a moment, she freezes, unsure of what to say or do.
“Resh’an…” she murmurs, her voice betraying the surprise she felt.
Resh’an moves quietly around the armoury, his hands trailing along the rows of weapons and equipment. He pauses to pick up one of the dulled blades, turning it in his hands as he examines its weight and balance. Haru watches him silently, unsure of what to make of his presence or where this interaction is heading.
Finally, breaking the heavy silence, Resh’an speaks. “I still remember when you tried to teach Wind Ovates back in the day. They were barely children, and most of them would end up crying halfway through your sessions because you were too terrifying—or so they said.” He lets out a soft, almost nostalgic huff of amusement as he turns to meet her gaze. “Their parents would come to me afterward, demanding I talk to you about your methods. I used to think that teaching wasn’t really your calling.”
Haru blinks at him, her irritation flaring instantly. Is this really how he intended to start a conversation? By bringing up old complaints and essentially telling her she is terrible at teaching? She crosses her arms, her voice carefully neutral as she responds. “Is this your idea of an icebreaker? Insulting me right off the bat and calling me a bad teacher?” Her gaze shifts away from his, breaking the intensity of the moment. “And for the record, those kids were barely ten. Their parents should’ve known better than to think I’d be good with children.”
Resh’an sighs, his expression softening as he shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. He turns to face her fully, his brown eyes steady and unreadable. “In fact, I think you’re actually not a bad teacher at all. You just had the wrong target audience back then.” He pauses, his tone gaining warmth. “You’ve done a great job training Zale and Valere. They’ve come a long way in the past week. And so have you.”
Haru’s breath catches in her throat for a moment, her irritation melting into surprise. She stares at him, caught off guard by his words. “Y-You really think so?” she asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
He nods, his expression calm yet sincere.
Haru’s heart flutters in a way she doesn’t entirely understand. She would be lying if she says his words don’t affect her. Swallowing hard, she averts her gaze again, her mind spinning with emotions she suppressed for a very long time.
Why is he like this? How can he so easily switch between being cold and hurtful to suddenly kind and reassuring? Did he just forget everything they have argued about? Everything he had said to her? Haru shakes her head, trying to keep her composure as her voice comes out strained and laced with frustration. “Why are you like this? You acted like the biggest asshole, and then suddenly you’re nice again, as if nothing happened. I don’t get it.”
Resh’an is silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Instead of addressing her complaint, he reaches into his robes and pulls out a small crystalline device, placing it carefully on the table between them. “I actually wanted to show you something,” he says, his tone neutral yet deliberate.
Haru frowns at his audacity to ignore her, but her curiosity overrides her irritation as her gaze falls on the strange device. “What’s that?” she asks, a mix of confusion and wariness in her voice.
Resh’an’s eyes meet hers briefly before returning to the crystal. “It’s an anchor in time. I created it so I could have the opportunity to save Garl when Aephorul attacked him.”
“You did... what?” Haru blurts out, her disbelief evident. Of all the things he could have said, this is not what she expected.
Resh’an’s expression softens slightly, but his focus remains on the device. “Let me show you.”
Before Haru can respond, he touches the crystal, and suddenly, a nauseating sensation surges through her, as if her stomach is being turned inside out. The world warps and shifts around her, pulling her into another domain.
When she opens her eyes, she is back on the cliffs near the Clockwork Castle. But something is wrong—everything is frozen. The entire scene is suspended in time. Aephorul stands mid-motion, his attack hurtling toward Garl, who is frozen in place with a look of determination etched on his face. It is the exact moment before Haru has intervened to block the attack. Around them, endless crystals float in the air, shimmering faintly.
Haru’s eyes widen as she took in the surreal sight. “What is this…?” she mutters, her voice filled with awe as she stared at the beautiful, floating objects surrounding them.
Resh’an calmly picks one of the glowing crystals from the air, holding it delicately in his hand. “These are time shards,” he explains. “They maintain the integrity of the infinite time loop.”
Haru blinks at him, utterly bewildered. “Infinite time loop? What are you even talking about?” She glances at the frozen scene before her—the moment when Garl was seconds away from being struck by Aephorul’s attack. “Is this why time feels like it’s completely stopped?”
Resh’an shakes his head slightly. “Not exactly. Time isn’t truly stopped here. It’s caught in an endless loop. I created an infinitely short recursive sequence, so it appears frozen, but it’s constantly cycling.”
Haru gawks at him, struggling to process his words. “Are… Are you serious? This is insane!” she exclaims, taking a hesitant step forward. Her eyes lands on one of the shimmering time shards floating nearby. She reaches out tentatively, plucking the shard from the air and holding it in her hand. Its surface is smooth and cool to the touch, almost surreal in its perfection. “This is absolutely insane…” she whispers, running her fingers over the crystalline structure.
As she stands there, her thoughts begin to race. The sheer magnitude of what Resh’an has done—what he is capable of—sends a shiver down her spine. He has created something so powerful, so incomprehensible, yet he always keeps his abilities restrained and hidden since joining their group. The realization unsettles her, filling her with a mixture of awe and unease.
She remains fixated on the shard, turning it over in her hands, utterly captivated by the demonstration of his power. Resh’an’s voice cuts through her thoughts, pulling her back to reality.
“Apologies, Haru, but we need to go back. We can’t remain inside for too long,” Resh’an says, his voice calm yet firm. With a snap of his fingers, the time shard dissolves from Haru’s hand, and the shimmering domain around them disappears. They are back in the armoury, the weight of reality settling over them.
An awkward silence fills the room as Haru stares at her now-empty hands, the lingering feeling of the time shard still vivid on her skin. The realization washes over her—he had a backup plan to save Garl all along. She has underestimated him. With a sigh, she finally breaks the tense silence, her voice low. “I… I’m sorry.”
“No.”
Startled, Haru turns to face him. His rejection catches her off guard, and for the first time, she notices a crack in his usual cold composure. When he speaks again, his voice was strained with unspoken emotions. “Of all people, you don’t owe me an apology, Haru. If anything, it’s me who should apologize. I accused you of things that weren’t fair.”
Haru lowers her gaze, shame flickering across her face. “But you’re right…” she murmurs, her tone laden with sorrow. Gathering her courage, she meets his gaze again, her voice trembling as she continues, “I lied to you when I said I didn’t see any changes in Aeph. I did. I saw the signs—the subtle changes—long before it was too late.” She pauses, her breath shaky. “B-But you have to believe me, Resh’an. I never thought he would go this far… that he would do those things—to me, to my family.” The weight of her confession hangs in the air, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable.
Resh’an’s expression softens further as her words sinks in. “You can’t change what happened,” he says quietly, his voice laces with regret. “And I never wanted to make you think that any of this was your fault… I’m really sorry, Haru.”
Her heart aches, pounding hard in her chest as his soft brown eyes meet hers. If only she could see his face completely—just the full image of him without the physical barriers. But those eyes alone are enough to make her knees feel weak, her defenses falter. She fights the overwhelming urge to step closer, to collapse into his arms, to let herself break down and cry against his chest. Just once, to let go.
“And yet I could have done more…” Haru’s voice trembles as she averts her gaze, her shame and guilt bubbling to the surface. “I was too weak. I couldn’t do anything to save my family… to save anyone.” Her hands ball into tight fists at her sides, her nails pressing into her palms, almost breaking through the skin as if to ground herself against the crushing emotions. The guilt, the despair—it courses through her like a storm, threatening to break the walls she has so carefully built. Her lips quiver as she bites down, desperate to keep herself in check. She wouldn’t cry—not here, not in front of him.
The silence that followed is deafening. He doesn’t say anything, his presence both a comfort and a reminder of the weight of everything unsaid. The stillness of the room only amplifies the emotions she is desperately trying to suppress. She shifts uncomfortably, her heart racing as she avoids his gaze.
Unable to bear the tension any longer, Haru murmurs quickly, her voice barely audible, “It’s getting late… I should go back to Mooncradle.” She turns abruptly, heading for the entrance, her movements hurried as if running from the weight of the moment. But Resh’an’s voice stops her in her tracks.
“I never loved Mina.”
The words echo through the room, piercing the silence and halting her in mid-step. She turns back to him, surprise etched into her expression. “What… What did you just say?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, trembling as she tries to process his words. Did she hear him correctly?
“I’ve never had any feelings for her.” His gaze softens as he spoke, his voice carrying a tinge of remorse. “I only did what Aephorul told me to do. At the time, I thought it was the right choice.”
Haru blinks, her shock palpable. “He… told you?” Her voice quivers, laden with disbelief. The revelation hits her like a thunderclap, leaving her breathless. Why would Aephorul have said such a thing? It doesn’t make any sense. Her mind races, thoughts colliding as a single question rises above the chaos.
“Why? Why would Aephorul tell you to do that?” she asks in a breathless and unsteady voice. She isn’t even sure she could have spoken louder in that moment. His confession knocked the air out of her.
Resh’an hesitates, his expression clouded with regret. “…Because he believed it would help me finally forget,” he admits, his voice quiet, his composure slipping to reveal the guilt and sadness beneath. His gaze shifts to the crystalline device on the desk, as if it holds the answers to all their mistakes. “A foolish attempt, I have to say,” he adds in an almost inaudible tone, but the words don’t escape Haru’s notice.
Her chest tightens as she watches him, the rare vulnerability in his eyes striking a chord deep within her. Haru hesitates, torn between the fear of pushing too far and the burning need to uncover the truth. But Resh’an is revealing more than she ever thought he would, but she also can see how precarious the moment is. One wrong word and he might rebuild his walls. But she can’t stop herself to ask anyway.
“What were you trying to forget, Resh’an?” she asks softly, her voice careful and gentle, as if coaxing a wounded animal. She searched his face, hoping he would trust her enough to share.
He shakes his head and reached for the crystal, slipping it back into his pocket. His tone is firmer now, though she can hear the strain in it. “Forget what I said. It’s nothing to worry about, Haru.”
Haru was so close. She can see the effort he is putting into pushing her away, retreating back behind the walls he has built up over the centuries of suffering and solitude. But she isn’t ready to let him do that, not this time. Taking a step closer, her voice softens further, almost pleading, “Resh’an, please. You can talk to me…”
The air between them feels heavy, charged with unspoken words and buried emotions. He opens his mouth, as if to reply, but before he can say anything, another voice pierces the tense quiet.
“Haru? Are you still in there?” Zale’s voice echoes into the room, making Haru jump. She turns toward the doorway, as Zale steps into the armoury. His eyes widen slightly when he notices Resh’an standing there too. “Oh, uh… hi. I didn’t mean to intrude,” he says, his expression awkward as he looks between the two of them.
The moment is shattered and Haru can only sigh, glancing away from Resh’an with frustration flickering in her eyes. “No worries, Zale…” she replies, her voice betraying her annoyance at the interruption. She was so close to getting Resh’an to open up further, but now the moment is gone. What terrible timing.
Zale shifts awkwardly on his feet. “Umm… I actually wanted to ask if you could help Val and me fix the ventilation system in the sleeping quarters. It’s been acting up, somehow clogged or something, and I figured your wind magic would make the job way easier.”
“Sure, lead the way.” Haru responds, glancing briefly at Resh’an, whose expression has returned to his usual stoic calm. She reluctantly turns to leave with Zale, frustration still simmering inside her.
As she walks away, her mind is a whirlwind of unanswered questions. What had Resh’an meant when he said he’d never loved Mina? Why had Aephorul orchestrated their relationship in the first place? What did Resh’an want so desperately to forget, and why had he hesitated to tell her?
Aephorul… The thought of him makes her stomach churn. He had lied to her, saying Resh’an loved Mina and would never love her. After everything that happened, she shouldn’t have been surprised that Aephorul had manipulated the entire situation. But if this was just one of his lies, how deep did his deception go? What other truths had he twisted? A nagging fear begins to creep into her mind.
Zale’s voice breaks through her spiralling thoughts. “Thanks, Haru. I know you must be really exhausted, so I really appreciate you helping us out. It’s just… Val and me trying to get things fixed up here, and I don’t want the place to fall apart.”
“No problem, Zale. I’ll be happy to help you two,” Haru replies with a small smile, though her mind is still far away.
Her thoughts continue to race as they head to the sleeping quarters, the nagging questions refusing to leave her alone for the rest of the night.
Notes:
Thanks for reading <3
Chapter 15: Tearing Down the Walls
Chapter Text
Present
Garl stands hunched over the kitchen counter, surrounded by a chaotic sea of utensils and ingredients. His usually joyful expression is clouded with concentration as he stares at the plate in front of him. It is some kind of cake—at least, it is supposed to be. He chews his lip, his frustration mounting. Something isn’t right. He can feel it, but he can’t pinpoint what.
A deliberate clearing of a throat snaps him out if his thoughts. He jumps, nearly knocking over a bowl of flour.
Serai is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and her sharp gaze locked onto him. She says nothing for a moment, just takes in the mess with a raised eyebrow. “Garl,” she says finally, in her usual deadpan tone. “What exactly are you doing?”
“S-Serai!” he stammers, trying and failing to shield the plate from her view. His oversized apron is dusted with flour, and a bit of dough clings to his cheek. “I, ummm… what are you doing here?”
She ignores his question, her eyes narrowing as she points at the plate. “What’s that?”
“This?” He lets out a nervous laugh, stepping to the side as if that might somehow distract her. “Oh, nothing. Just… tinkering. Experimenting, you know? Hehe…”
Serai’s expression doesn’t waver. “For someone who’s claimed he wanted to watch Valere and Zale train upside, you’ve spent an awful lot of time hiding in the kitchen. And by ‘awful lot’; I mean all week.”
Her bluntness hits its mark. Garl winces, his usual cheerful demeanor faltering. “I-I mean…” He scratches the back of his head, flour puffing into the air. “I just… didn’t want to disturb them, you know? They’re so focused…”
“Right.” Her unimpressed tone makes it clear she isn’t buying it. “So instead, you’ve been holed up in here like a hermit, cooking?”
Garl opens his mouth, but no excuse came. His shoulders slump. “Alright, fine,” he admits, avoiding her piercing gaze. “I just…the past weeks I’ve been feeling kind of… useless. Compared to you and the others, I mean. I don’t have powers or fancy combat skills. I’m just… Garl. The cook. The guy who tags along and hopes not to mess things up again.”
Serai’s brow furrows, her frown deepening. “That’s ridiculous,” she retorts flatly, though there is an edge of something softer in her tone. “You’re not useless.”
He gives her a small, sheepish smile. “Thanks, Serai, but… I want to contribute something more. Something meaningful. Even if I can’t fight like you, I can at least try to make everyone smile. Lighten the mood, you know? That’s why I’ve been working on this… this dish. I want to surprise Val and Zale with something special. They’ve been working so hard…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I can’t seem to get it right.”
She studies him for a long moment before her eyes drift back to the plate. “What’s missing?”
He sighs. “The usual ingredients aren’t enough. It’s just not… special. When we were kids, Val used to talk about these peaches that Erlina and Brugaves would bring her as a young kid. She loved them. I thought maybe if I could find some…”
“Peaches?” Serai repeats. She tilts her head in thought. Then, to Garl’s surprise, she shrugs. “Alright. I’ll help you.”
His eyes widen. “Y-you will? Really?”
“Sure.” She straightens, brushing some imaginary dust off her gloves. “I don’t have anything better to do. And if you’re going to mope around, I’d rather you do it somewhere else.”
Garl’s expression lights up, his usual grin returning in full force. “Serai, you’re amazing! Wait—how are we going to find peaches, though? Do you know where to—”
She holds up a hand to stop his rambling. “There’s an island to the south,” she states simply. “Yolande mentioned it once. Something about rare fruits. I’ll ask her to confirm, but I’m pretty sure it’s the place we’re looking for.”
“An island? With peaches?” Garl practically vibrates with excitement. “That’s perfect! Thank you, Serai. I mean it.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she says with a playful eyeroll, already turning toward the door. “You’d better be ready to actually pull your weight out there. I’m not going to babysit you.”
“I’ll do my best!” he calls after her, already pulling off his apron. His grin widens as he watches her go, his heart feeling a little lighter.
In the meantime, Haru is already at the Zenith Academy with Valere and Zale, overseeing their sparring session. She has spent the entire morning training, moving, guiding and correcting. Now, exhaustion clings to her limbs, making her grateful for the brief reprieve. She settles onto a bench at the edge of the training grounds, watching as they fight, weapons clashing under the sun.
Across from her stands Resh’an, leaning casually against the stone wall of the armoury. His posture is relaxed, arms loosely crossed, yet there is always something unreadable about him—something distant, as if his mind drifts across realities even while he stands among them.
Haru finds herself glancing at him more often than she’d like to admit, wondering, what he is thinking - as she often does.
Then, without warning, his gaze flicks up and meet hers.
Her breath hitches. She jolts slightly, whipping her attention back to the sparring match in front of her. Shit.
For a moment, she sits perfectly still, willing herself not to look again. But it is already too late.
She hears the quiet shift of his footsteps and a heartbeat later, he is beside her.
Haru tenses, barely masking her surprise as Resh’an sits down on the bench next to her, his presence giving her chills.
“Resh’an,” she greets him, her voice betraying only a hint of the startle she feels. She hasn’t expected him to come over. Especially not when Valere and Zale are around. But she forces herself to regain composure quickly, looking back at the kids as if the brief moment has never happened.
He turns slightly toward her, his expression as unreadable as ever. “Morning.” His voice is calm, smooth. Then, after a brief pause, he adds, “I hope you don’t mind.”
Haru blinks. Mind?
She stares at him for a second too long, her mind scrambling to process his unusually casual tone. She swallows and quickly shakes her head, forcing herself back into reality. “M-Morning,” she mutters, eyes darting away as she pretends to focus on Valere and Zale’s training.
She clenches her jaw, mentally cursing the way her heart has kicked up a notch. He’s just acting like a normal, decent person. Nothing more. Nothing less. So, calm down.
But her heart refuses to obey, hammering relentlessly in her chest. And somehow, she has the nagging suspicion that Resh’an, in all his ageless wisdom, might notice her uneasiness.
A heavy, awkward silence settles between them.
Haru tries to keep her focus on Zale and Valere, watching their movements, analyzing their footwork- But no matter how hard she tries, she can’t ignore the presence beside her.
Why does he have to sit so close?
Her fingers twitch and she absently begins fiddling with the hem of her haori, a subtle attempt to ground herself. But despite the warmth of the sun, an odd chill runs down her spine while the familiar sounds of clashing blades resonate through the air.
She feels somehow… small next to him. Fragile. He could probably erase her from existence with just a snap of his fingers, and that thought makes her slightly nervous. Yet not entirely in a bad way, if she’s being honest.
Hesitantly, she lets her gaze drift to the side, stealing a glance at him. Resh’an sits still, stoic and calm as ever, his veiled face betraying nothing.
She can’t stop wondering…What does he look like under those robes?
The Resh’an she once knew was nothing like the man sitting beside her now.
Back then, he was different. He was handsome, kind, her safe haven. A little strange, sure – nerdy, Aephorul would have said, but that was what she loved about him.
His passion.
The way he could lose himself completely in an idea, obsess over it until it consumed every waking moment. The way he would work late into the night, experimenting with alchemy and pouring over his notes until exhaustion took over. She caught him asleep at his desk more times than she could count, ink smudged on his desk and notes, papers scattered beneath him. She still remembers the way he murmured her name in his sleep. How it made her heart race.
And his sharp wit had always been paired with an easy, confident smile. Sometimes he had been too stubborn, too caught up in his own mind. But gods, she has fallen hard for him.
And now…?
Now, he is buried beneath layers of fabric and mystery, that veiled both appearance and presence. His arms, wrapped tightly in bandages, hint at something far worse than simple wounds. The decay of his body - the consequences of his immortality.
But it isn’t just his body that has suffered. Whatever has happened to him in the centuries they were apart, it also has left scars on his soul. Deep, jagged, unseen scars. Scars that go beyond flesh.
And that is what hurt the most. More than anything.
Aephorul used to tease him about how Resh’an was wasting his good looks by burying himself in the library and lab instead of living his life. “Have a little fun. Go out, bring home a girl, let off some steam.” Aephorul has tried to drag him to bars, always nudging him toward fleeting romances, casual flings. Haru just watched Aephorul’s attempts silently, not daring to say something even if it pissed her off.
But Resh’an never cared, to her relief. His studies always came first. His research, his alchemy stuff—it was all that mattered to him. And Haru has been grateful for that, if she is being honest.
Because it means she never had to share him with anyone.
Until he began to meet Mina.
The thought still leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. After waking up from her slumber, she has spent years convincing herself it doesn’t matter anymore, that she has moved on. But now… now she knows the truth: Resh’an never loved Mina. He never had feelings for her. Aephorul pushed him into that relationship. He manipulated him into that decision. And if he manipulated Resh’an… Then that meant he had manipulated her, too.
And that thought has been haunting her for the whole night.
Why else has Aephorul worked so hard to drive a wedge between them? Why else has he kept them apart, whispering excuses, saying it was for her own good? He claimed he was protecting her, that it was better for her not to see Resh’an and Mina together, that it would only hurt her more.
But in the end, the truth shattered everything.
It wasn’t about protection.
It was about control.
Resh’an has been a pawn. She has been a pawn.
And Aephorul has known that Resh’an had no feelings. Of course he has known.
He probably knew more than she knows even now, he pieced the situation together in a way that suited him best. Maybe it has been his plan from the very start, to push Resh’an and Mina together; to separate her from Resh’an, to break something that has once been unshakable.
He has manipulated Resh’an and her so effortlessly…
And worst of all?
She has believed everything, without even doubting it.
The realization makes her stomach churn.
She has let Aephorul in. Trusted him. Let him get close to her in the aftermath of her heartbreak. She has convinced herself that he was there for her as a friend, someone to lean on, someone who understood.
But he has only been waiting. Waiting for her to be weak. Waiting for her to be vulnerable enough that she wouldn’t question his intentions.
And she has let him in. Let him touch her. The thought makes her feel sick and her skin crawls at the memory - at the way she has once found comfort in his words and his closeness, at the way she has believed him when he said he respected her. But now, looking back, it was so clear. He has never respected her. He has used her.
Like a fool, she has played right into his hands. The weight of it sits heavy in her chest, an unbearable pressure that refuses to let up.
And now Resh’an is sitting right next to her. The same Resh’an she has spent millennia mourning, resenting, missing.
Her old friend. The one she has once trusted with everything. The one she has loved.
She can't stop thinking about what he said yesterday—that he became involved with Mina because he wanted to forget. Maybe, and she doesn’t want to get her hopes up too high, he was trying to forget her? Could it be that Resh’an was attempting to move on from Haru by being with Mina? But why would he feel compelled to do that? A thousand questions and possibilities rush through her head as she gazes at the immortal alchemist beside her, yet one possibility keeps surfacing repeatedly.
Could it really be?
Her feelings for him have always been there, strong and unwavering. Yet, she has never expected him to feel the same, to reciprocate. She was content just to be near him. She was too scared of ruining the deep friendship they shared. Even now, the thought of his potential reaction makes her feel anxious. The idea of confronting their past, of revealing all that has been unspoken after so long, is still terrifying.
The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls Haru from the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind.
“You’re staring.”
Haru flinches and her breath catches as realization strikes in. She has been staring at him. The whole time.
“Oh…” Oh, gods.
Heat rushes to her face as she quickly tears her gaze away, her throat tightening with embarrassment. “Sorry… I…” She trails off, inwardly cursing herself. She has been looking at him the whole time, like he was some strange specimen under a lens, and now she feels like an idiot. Groaning softly, she rubs her temples in frustration.
Resh’an lets out a quiet, half-amused huff. “Haru, it’s fine,” he says, his tone light, but there is something underneath it—something heavy. “I’ve gotten used to it. You know… people staring at me and all that.”
He speaks as if it is nothing. As if it doesn’t even matter.
But it does.
Haru hears the subtle resignation in his voice, and it makes her chest tighten. She doesn’t want to be like the others—those who gawk at him, whisper behind his back, look at him as if he is something less than human.
“But you shouldn’t get used to it,” she mutters, a hint of frustration slipping into her tone.
Resh’an turns to her, frowning slightly, his brows drawing together. “And what do you mean by that?” There is a flicker of irritation in his usually impassive expression. “It’s not like I chose for people to stare at me.” His gaze flicks back toward the sparring kids, as if to dismiss the conversation entirely.
Haru clenches her fists. Right. Of course, he hasn’t chosen this. But that doesn’t make it any less cruel.
“I know that,” she sighs, trying to steady her voice. “But you’re more than just your appearance, Resh’an.”
A sharp, bitter scoff escapes him. “Am I?”
Haru hesitates to push further. The way he said it—the weight behind his voice—makes her feel as though she pressed on an old wound, one that never fully healed.
A heavy silence settles between them, thick and unspoken.
Then, after a few moments, Resh’an speaks again, his voice quieter this time.
“Aephorul is right, Haru. I’m not the man you once knew.” His tone remains neutral, almost eerily calm, but when he looks at her, his brown eyes tell a different story—one filled with centuries of suffering and isolation. “I’m not the old Resh’an anymore. I’ve changed… and not in a good way.”
“Resh’an… I don’t think—”
He shakes his head, cutting her off before she can even begin. “No, Haru. You don’t understand.” His voice is still quiet, but there is an unmistakable weight behind it—something heavy, something raw. His gaze remains fixed on the training grounds, watching the two young warriors, but his mind is far away.
“It’s not just my appearance.” His fingers curl slightly on his lap. “It’s the things I’ve done. The choices I’ve made. The things I can’t take back, no matter how much I want to.” His words are slow, deliberate, carrying a burden far heavier than Haru can truly grasp.
The remorse in his expression is painfully clear. And then, almost too softly, like a confession meant only for himself, he murmurs “I’m no better than him. Just… less corrupted.”
Just less corrupted…
Haru’s body stiffens and a cold shiver runs down her spine as his words sink in, a nauseating weight settling in her stomach. She refuses to believe him.
No. No, he isn’t like Aephorul. Not even close.
Her pulse pounds in her ears as something inside her snaps. And before she even realizes what she is doing, she pushes herself up from the bench, stepping in front of him, forcing him to look at her. The kids training in the field are forgotten.
“No.” Her voice comes out in a strained way, thick with emotion she can barely contain. She takes a step closer, close enough that he has no choice but to meet her gaze. “That’s not true. Don’t you dare compare yourself to him.”
Resh’an blinks, his brown eyes widening slightly in surprise. He clearly did not expect this reaction from her.
“Why not?” His voice remains calm, but there was something breaking underneath it. A quiet, self-destructive certainty. “I’ve done terrible things too, Haru. And worse, I’ve stood by and done nothing when I could have acted.” His tone is heavy with a conviction that took centuries to form.
Haru clenches her fists at her sides. Her breath comes out unsteadily, but she forces herself to keep her voice steady. “And yet, I wouldn’t dare compare you to him,” she says, each word deliberate, like an anchor pulling him back. She swallows, her heart hammering.
“You’re not like him.”
Resh’an parts his lips slightly, as if to argue, but she doesn’t let him, shaking her head.
She exhales a shaky breath, and when she speaks again, her voice is quieter, more vulnerable than she wants it to be. “…You would never have done the things he did to me.” Her hands tremble slightly at her sides, the weight of those words pressing down on her.
For a moment, neither of them speaks as her words hang between them.
“But I left you alone.” Resh’an’s voice is bitter, thick with self-loathing. His hands curl into fists on his lap. “I wasn’t there to stop him. I let him do whatever he wanted to you.”
His words are sharp, cutting into the space between them like a blade. He takes a breath, as if trying to steady himself, but his tone wavers. “I was a fool to believe he would take care of you. Instead, he—”
He stops. He can’t finish the sentence.
And he doesn’t have to. Haru knows exactly what he means. Shame crawls up her spine and guilt is wrapping around her like a suffocating vice. He is so right. She has thought he would take care of her too. But it went in a completely different way than she expected.
Resh’an inhales deeply, pressing a hand to his temple, forcing himself back into composure. “I’m not a saint, Haru.” His voice is quieter now, but no less strained. “I’m not the hero I wanted to be. I failed. As a protector. As a councillor.” His gaze flickers toward her for a second but he feels too ashamed to keep looking at her. “…And as a friend.”
She wants to argue—to tell him he is wrong, that he has tried, that it isn’t his fault. But the words lodge in her throat, unable to escape.
Because deep down she knows. She knows he isn’t entirely wrong.
Aephorul has used them, twisted their lives for one of his sick games. And he has manipulated them successfully, has driven them apart and turned everything they had against them. And Resh’an has let him. Whether by choice or by deception, it doesn’t change the outcome. And that realization hurts more than anything. But she wasn’t any better.
She studies him carefully, her chest tightening at what she sees. Even with his veil, even through layers of fabric meant to hide him, she can see it. The exhaustion, the resignation, the weight he has carried alone for far too long.
The carefully composed Resh’an she has met not long ago—the one who kept his emotions locked behind walls of logic and restraint— looks now tired, exhausted. Defeated.
There is a moment of silence, until...
“We’re taking a break now!” Zale’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade, shattering the fragile moment between them.
Haru flinches slightly, blinking as she is pulled from her thoughts. Zale strides toward them, glancing between the two with curiosity. “Umm…Lunch?” Valere trails right behind him, her expression visibly marked by exhaustion.
Another beat of silence.
“Lunch sounds great.” Resh’an’s voice is smooth again, his posture straightening as he rises from the bench. His expression, once raw and open, is once again unreadable. The walls are back up, as if the last few minutes have never happened. He glances at Haru, tilting his head slightly. “Shall we?”
Haru hesitates, still reeling from the emotional whiplash. She still has so many questions about yesterday, about what he said. But it seems that both of them always have the worst timing. She forces herself to nod, pushing everything else aside.
“…Yeah.” She falls into step behind them, her mind remains stuck on what has just happened.
“You sure this is the right place?” Garl asks, eyeing the dense forest around them with hesitation. Towering trees and thick undergrowth tangle in their path, making every step a challenge. He struggles with vines and low-hanging branches, grunting as he tries to push through.
Meanwhile, Serai moves effortlessly, slipping past obstacles with ease. “It shouldn’t take too long,” she replies coolly. “We just need to get out of this mess first.”
Garl sighs but trudges forward, swatting a branch away from his face. As the minutes stretch on, his patience begins to fray. The deeper they go, the more the forest seems to close in around them.
“A-Are you sure we’re not lost?” he asks, his voice rising slightly. His steps grow more hurried, his breath quickens. “What if we never find our way out of here? What if—oh my God—we didn’t even tell the others where we were going!”
Serai rolls her eyes but keeps walking. “Calm down, Garl. We’re not lost.”
“How do you know that?” His voice cracks slightly, panic creeping in.
She sighs, barely sparing him a glance. “Because if we were, Yolande, Keenathan, and Valtraid would eventually come looking for us. So, unless you think they’ll just leave us to die out here, stop worrying.”
Garl swallows hard, but his throat feels dry. He nods stiffly, trying to shake the nerves creeping into his chest.
They continue forward, hacking through the foliage until the dense forest finally gives way to a more open area. Garl practically collapses in relief, hunching over with his hands on his knees.
“I’m… dead,” he pants dramatically.
Serai snorts in slight amusement but ignores his theatrics, her sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. Then, finally, she spots it.
“Look,” she says, pointing ahead.
Garl follows her gaze to a small hill dotted with sturdy, sun-kissed trees, their branches heavy with round, red-golden fruit. His eyes widen, and his exhaustion melts away immediately.
“Yes… Yes! That’s them!” He gasps, breaking into a run. His excitement is palpable as he rushes toward the nearest tree. The peaches are right there, so close.
There is only one problem.
They are too high.
Garl stretches on his tiptoes, straining his fingers toward the lowest branch. He jumps—once, twice—but still came up short. He groans in frustration.
Serai watches, unimpressed. Without a word, she steps forward, grabs a branch, and hoists herself up. “I’ll get them,” she says simply.
“No, no, no! What’s the point of you doing all this?” Garl huffs, waving her off. “You’ve already helped me so much—I have to do this on my own.”
Serai raises an eyebrow but let go of the branch. “Suit yourself.”
Determined, Garl grabs onto the tree and starts climbing. The bark is rough beneath his hands, and the higher he goes, the trickier it becomes.
Serai crosses her arms, watching him with mild concern. “You sure those branches can hold you?”
“Hey!” Garl gasps, throwing her a look of mock offense. “Are you implying something about my weight?”
Serai smirks slightly. “Just making an observation.”
“Well, observe this!” He grins triumphantly, plucking a ripe peach from the tree and holding it up like a trophy. “See? I told you I could—"
Crack.
Garl barely has time to react before the branch beneath him snaps. His victory cry turns into a startled yelp as he tumbles down, landing on the ground with a loud thud.
Serai’s smirk vanishes. Her eyes widen in alarm, and for the briefest moment, a flicker of genuine fear crosses her face.
“Garl!” she calls, rushing to his side. She kneels next to him, her usual composure replaced with concern. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Garl winces, clutching his ankle. “M-my… ankle,” he groans. “I think it’s… sprained.”
Serai’s jaw tightens, her hands instinctively hovering over him as if unsure where to help first. She takes a deep breath, forcing her voice to stay steady. “Alright. Let’s not panic.”
“Too late for that,” Garl mutters weakly, a small smile on his lips.
She ignores him. “Can you move it at all?”
He tested it with a small shift and immediately regrets it. “Nope. Nope! That’s a terrible idea.”
“Let me see,” Serai says, her voice softer than usual. There is still strain in it, a lingering worry that she can’t quite mask, but the usual sharpness has dulled.
Garl hesitates for a second before carefully pulling off his shoe. As soon as he exposes his ankle, Serai leans in, her gloved fingers ghosting over the swollen skin. The touch is light, careful, but it sends a jolt through him—not just from the pain, but from something else entirely.
His breath hitches. His heart pounds against his ribs. He isn’t sure whether it was from the injury or the way her fingertips lingers for just a moment too long.
“Yep. It’s sprained,” she confirms, her sharp eyes flicking up to meet his. Her brow is furrowed, deep with disapproval. “I told you that branch wouldn’t hold. Why didn’t you listen to me?”
Garl swallows, looking away with a sheepish expression. “I…” He pauses, realizing he doesn’t have a good excuse. She is right.
His gaze drifts around them until he spots the peaches that have fallen with him. He lets out a nervous chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood. “Well… at least I knocked some peaches down on my way.” He gives her a weak grin.
Serai blinks at him, then let out an exasperated snort. “You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that?” Despite her words, her voice lacks its usual edge. There was something almost… fond in it.
Garl chuckles again “I mean, as long as it’s just sometimes…” he replies playfully, causing Serai to roll her eyes again.
She stands, dusting herself off, and begins gathering the fallen peaches. “I’ll get us some more,” she says firmly. “You stay put and rest. No more stupid ideas.”
Garl nods frantically, deciding it is best not to argue. He’s done enough damage for today—physically and to Serai’s patience.
As she turns toward the tree, he let out a quiet sigh, wincing as he adjusts his ankle. Despite the pain, despite everything, a small smile tugs at his lips.
Even if she’s never admitted it, Serai has been genuinely worried about him. And somehow, that makes the ache a little more bearable.
A little while later, Serai secures the last of the peaches into their bags and turns to Garl. “How do you feel now? Think you can walk a bit?”
Garl carefully leans against the tree, testing his weight on his injured ankle. He takes a few steps forward, his face tightening with pain. “I guess I can walk, but…”
Serai huffs, crossing her arms. “Seriously? At your pace, we’ll make it back to the beach in about three months.”
Garl flinches at her bluntness, his shoulders sinking slightly. Noticing this, Serai sighs. She runs a hand through her hair before glancing at the darkening sky. “We won’t make it before nightfall,” she admits. “We should stay here and let your ankle rest. I’ll figure out a way to get you back to the ship in the morning.”
Garl nods silently, sitting back down with a defeated sigh. He leans against the tree, his expression troubled. “I’m sorry, Serai… for always bringing you trouble.”
Serai scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Garl, whining about it won’t change anything. Just sit still and rest.” Without another word, she turns and disappears into the trees.
He blinks. Wait… where is she going?
She returns a little while later, her water flask freshly filled from a nearby stream. Without hesitation, she tears a long strip from her cape and pours some water over it, dampening the fabric. She kneels beside him and nods toward his foot. “Give it here.”
Garl complies, hesitantly extending his leg. The moment the cold cloth touches his swollen ankle, he instinctively hisses in pain—but the relief came almost instantly, making him exhale in a contented sigh.
“That… feels much better,” he mutters, closing his eyes for a moment.
In that moment he misses, how a slight pink hue is dusting Serai’s cheeks as she focuses on tying the makeshift bandage securely. How her hands linger just a second longer than necessary once more.
She quickly stands, clearing her throat. “Rest,” she orders briskly before turning away to start setting up their camp.
As the late afternoon stretches on, Serai gathers firewood while Garl remains seated, trying to rest. But despite the relief in his ankle, he can’t shake the gnawing discomfort in his chest—the feeling of being useless. Again.
By nightfall, the fire crackles between them, casting flickering shadows across their weary faces. Garl eats a few peaches, grateful for the abundance thanks to Serai’s efforts.
Serai sits nearby, absently sharpening her blades, her gaze focused on the steel in her hands.
Garl swallows, stealing a glance at her before speaking hesitantly. “Serai…?”
She doesn’t look up but let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment.
He hesitates before voicing what has been weighing on him. “Do you think I’m a burden to the group?” His voice is quiet, almost fragile.
Serai freezes mid-motion. Her grip on her dagger tightens as she lifts her gaze to meet his. “Stop that, Garl,” she snaps, her voice sharper than the blade in her hand.
His stomach twists at her reaction. “W-why? I mean… it’s the truth, isn’t it?” His voice wavers slightly. “You always have to help me. I nearly died if Haru hadn’t—"
“I don’t want to hear it.” Serai’s voice is suddenly strained, her tone raw in a way he isn’t used to. “I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if Haru hadn’t been there.”
She looks down at her dagger, staring at her own reflection in the polished steel. Her grip on the weapon is white-knuckled.
Garl swallows hard. “Serai…”
She is silent for a moment before exhaling sharply. “It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t thrown Resh’an’s vial.” Her voice is lower now, tinged with something she rarely let slip - guilt. “It was my fault you almost got killed.”
Garl’s breath catches. He has never seen her like this before—so vulnerable, so burdened. And he hates it. For a moment, he fumbles for words, then settles for what he does best—lightening the mood. “Well… I mean, I’m here, right? Safe and sound.” He chuckles nervously, hoping to ease the tension.
Serai doesn’t look at him. “Just leave it, Garl,” she mutters.
He frowns slightly, not really happy about that outcome. “But I just wanted to cheer you up…” His voice trails off into the quiet night.
Garl swallows the lump in his throat, shifting slightly where he sits. He wants to say something—anything—to break the silence, to ease the tension still hanging between them. But the look on Serai’s face told him now isn’t the time.
Instead, she lets out a quiet sigh and stands, brushing off the dirt from her gloves. Without another word, she walks a few steps closer to the fire and settles down onto the ground, lying on her side with her back partially turned to him.
“It’s late. You should sleep,” she murmurs, her voice quieter now, almost… tired.
Garl blinks at her, a bit taken aback by the abrupt end to their conversation. A small, disappointed frown tugs at his lips, but he knows better than to push her any further tonight. If she wants space, he will give it to her.
“…Alright,” he mumbles after a pause, rubbing the back of his neck. His voice softens as he adds, “Umm… Good night, Serai.”
She doesn’t respond right away, but the fire crackles between them, filling the silence.
Then, just as he lays down, mirroring her actions, he thinks he hears the faintest whisper.
“…Night, Garl.”
“Garl, wake up,” Serai’s voice cut through the haze of his sleep, punctuated by a firm nudge from her foot.
Garl groans, stirring from his uneasy slumber. His body feels stiff, his head foggy. “What…? Where—” He sits up too quickly and is immediately reminded of his sprained ankle. “Ouch, fuck…” he mutters, wincing as pain shoots through his leg. He blinks blearily at his surroundings, reality sinking in. The dense trees, the dying embers of last night’s fire, the weight of exhaustion in his limbs.
“So… it wasn’t just a dream,” he mumbles, leaning back against the tree, rubbing his face in an attempt to wake up.
“Unfortunately, no. It wasn’t a dream,” Serai retorts flatly, arms crossed. “But I already contacted the others. They’ll dock on the other side of the island and pick you up here—it’s a shorter route than taking you all the way back through the jungle.”
Garl blinks. “Wait… how did you—"
Before he can finish, Serai summons a swirling green portal beside her. “Just wait here,” she says, stepping toward it. “I’ll bring them back.”
Garl, still half-asleep, simply nods. His mind hasn’t caught up to the logistics yet.
He isn’t sure how much time passed —Minutes? Hours? — before movement catches his eye. From the trees, two familiar figures emerge, waving at him.
“Oi, Garl!” Valtraid’s voice rings through the clearing.
Garl exhales in relief, his face breaking into a wide grin. “Guys… I’m so happy you’re here.” He lets out an awkward chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “For a second, I thought you’d all just, y’know… abandoned me.”
Keenathan and Valtraid both snickers. “Oh, trust me,” Keenathan says mischievously, nodding toward Serai, who also walks up to them, now fully dressed in her alter ego’s attire, Captain Klee’shaë. “we’d have way more than one problem with our captain if we just left you behind.”
Serai rolls her eyes. “Alright, let’s go.” Her firm voice cuts through their chatter. She bends down to pick up Garl’s bag, the peaches safely stowed inside. “I don’t want to stay here a second longer than necessary.”
Garl nods in agreement, bracing himself to try and hobble along.
But before he can move, Valtraid suddenly flexes, his appearance shifting as he transforms. His muscles bulk up instantly.
Garl barely has time to register what is happening before he finds himself being lifted effortlessly into the air.
“H-heeeeey!” he yelps as Valtraid slings him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. A high-pitched squeak escapes him as he dangles halfway down Valtraid’s back. “You could have given me a heads-up!” he protests, flailing slightly.
“Nah,” Valtraid teases with a smug grin, effortlessly adjusting Garl like he was carrying a sack of grain. “This is definitely more fun.”
Keenathan snorts, barely holding back his laughter. Serai, on the other hand, just sighs and strides ahead, not even sparing them a glance.
Garl groans dramatically, his arms dangling uselessly over Valtraid’s back. “This is so humiliating.”
“Hey,” Valtraid quips, giving him a casual bounce, which earns another startled yelp from Garl. “Look on the bright side—at least now we definitely won’t take three months to reach the beach.”
“Great. Glad to be of service.” Garl mutters defeated.
When they finally reach the ship and Valtraid sets him down, Garl lets out an exaggerated sigh “Oh my God. We actually made it.” He winces as he hobbles toward a barrel, lowering himself onto it to rest his ankle.
Valtraid rolls his shoulders, stretching out his muscles. “I need a drink after this. Hopefully, Yolande didn’t finish off the good stuff.” Without waiting for a response, he makes his way toward the ship’s quarters, Keenathan following close behind, winking at Garl as he goes.
From the deck, Garl can already hear the tell-tale signs of Yolande’s drunken cheer echoing from the kitchen, her loud, boisterous voice carrying through the ship. Meanwhile, Serai sets Garl’s bag down on the deck with a dull thud.
Garl looks at it for a moment before a grin tug at his lips. “We did it, huh?” He chuckles, his mood lighter than it has been the night before. “We actually got what we were looking for.” He gestures toward the peaches, shaking his head with amusement. “Even if I didn’t exactly walk away unscathed.”
There is silence for a moment. Serai stands near the railing, her gaze fixed on the horizon. The waves lap gently against the ship, the salty breeze ruffling the edges of her coat.
Then, finally, she speaks.
“About yesterday…”
Garl blinks, his grin fading slightly.
She hesitates just for a second before turning to face him fully. “To answer your question…” Her arms crossed, her fingers gripping her sleeves almost absently. “You’re not a burden. Not at all.”
Garl sits up a little straighter, startled by her sudden words.
Serai exhales, rubbing her temple as if trying to find the right way to say it. “You keep spirits high. You make people laugh, even when things are at their worst.” Her voice is quieter than usual, a rare softness threading through it. “That’s worth more than you realize.” She looks away again, her fingers tightening against her arm. “Without you… this whole journey would’ve been a pain in the ass.”
Garl’s body stiffens. His eyes widen slightly, and he could feel warmth creeping up his neck, his heart fluttering in his chest.
He is blushing.
He clears his throat, suddenly feeling far too nervous to meet her gaze. His fingers fidget with the hem of his sleeve as he mutters, “Really? That’s… what you think?”
She huffs. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
Garl swallows hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. His hands clench together, trying to steady himself. “Thanks, Serai…” His voice is quieter now, more sincere. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”
She doesn’t reply. Instead, she just gives him a sidelong glance before turning her focus back to the sea.
But that is enough for him.
“He’s been gone for over a day now!” Valere says, her voice tight with worry as she paces back and forth across the dining room. “We should do something. We should go check on him.”
Around the table, the rest of the group - Zale, Resh’an, Teaks, and Haru - sits inside Mooncradle’s community center, the air thick with concern. After realizing yesterday that Garl, Serai and the pirates had run off with the ship, worry had settled into frustration.
“And how exactly do you propose we do that?” Zale groans, slumping back in his chair. “Because in case you forgot, they took the ship, our ship, when they decided to run off on some secret little adventure without us.”
Valere stops pacing, crossing her arms. Her gaze flicks toward Resh’an.
The others immediately follow suit.
A heavy silence fills the room.
Resh’an blinks, exhaling slowly as realization dawned. “Oh, for the love of—” He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose in resignation. “Fine. I’ll go take a look.
Without another word, he stands up, his robes billowing slightly as he turns toward the door. The distant screech of a bird echoes outside, followed by the distinct flutter of powerful wings.
“Thanks, Resh’an!” Zale calls after him, but Resh’an is already gone.
They waited for hours before the others, without Reshan however, have finally made it back from their journey. Zale and Valere, barely able to contain themselves, rush toward the entrance gate the moment they spot movement in the distance.
Garl waves at them with a bright grin as if nothing happened. “Hey, guys!” He walks – or rather limps – alongside Serai, his steps uneven but his mood seemingly unaffected. They are alone, the pirate crew remained on the ship. Given how much they have drunk, it is probably for the best though.
“Garl!” Valere’s relief is immediate, but it quickly turns into concern as she scans him up and down. Something is off. Her sharp gaze drops to his ankle, noticing the way he favours one leg.
“What happened to you?” she asks, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you hurt?”
Garl’s grin falters for a split second before he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s nothing serious! I’m fine. Just… sprained my ankle a little.”
“Yeah,” Serai deadpans beside him. “By falling out of a tree.”
Zale lets out a loud snort, clapping Garl on the shoulder with amusement.
Valere, on the other hand, stares in disbelief. “You fell from a tree? Why? Why would you even be up there in the first place?”
Garl’s blush deepens. “Well…” He hesitates, but then shoots his best friends a knowing grin. “That’s actually a surprise.”
Zale and Valere exchange a look.
His grin widens. “Serai and I were on a secret mission, but don’t worry—you’ll see soon enough.”
Valere exhales, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Alright, fine… But let Resh’an take a look at your ankle when he returns.” Her tone leaves no room for argument.
Garl sighs, but the small smile tugging at his lips gives him away. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll let the immortal alchemist poke at my foot.”
Garl wastes no time. The moment they return, he disappears into the kitchen of the community centre, dedicating the next few days entirely to his craft. Of course, he has to be stealthy, making sure that Zale and Valere are either busy training at the Academy or fast asleep before he could experiment with his latest creation.
Meanwhile, life in Mooncradle continues. The kids trained under Haru’s guidance, pushing themselves harder than ever. And then—finally—Valere ascends, unlocking her inner lunar magic.
"Luana," Resh'an murmurs quietly, nodding contentedly as he watches the development.
Both Valere and Zale are ecstatic, their excitement palpable as they now can start preparing to enter the final Solstice Shrine with their newfound strength.
The night before their final task, Garl gathers everyone for a special dinner. The meal was nothing short of a feast. He has cooked multiple courses, filling the long wooden table with vibrant dishes, warm, hearty stews, freshly baked bread, grilled meats, perfectly seasoned vegetables, and, of course, Zale’s favourite food – tomato sandwiches. Laughter echoes through the dining hall, the group is savouring every bite, basking in the warm atmosphere.
And Garl?
Garl lives for moments like these. Seeing his friends happy, their faces lighting up with every dish he brings out. It makes every hour spent in the kitchen worth it.
Now, as the evening winds down, it is time for the final course. Dessert.
Garl’s grin widens as he stands from his seat, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “Alright, everyone. This one’s special.”
He disappears into the kitchen for a moment before emerging again, carrying a tray with a carefully arranged dessert.
A delicate, golden-brown pastry sits at the center of the platter, its flaky layers glistening under the warm candlelight. Slices of caramelized peaches were arranged in a mesmerizing spiral atop the pastry, their syrupy glaze catching the light. A generous amount of velvety cream hides under the peaches, infused with hints of vanilla and honey, a soft dusting of powdered sugar finishing the presentation.
It looks almost too beautiful to eat.
Gasps of awe fill the room as Garl sets the dish down in the centre of the table.
“I spent the last few days working on something special. Something new. Just for you guys,” he says, pride evident in his voice. His gaze flickers toward Valere, a knowing glint in his eyes. “And I might have had a certain someone’s favorite fruit in mind while making it.”
“What is that?” Zale blurts out, staring at the dessert in pure awe, his excitement practically radiating off him.
“And it smells amazing…” Teaks mutters, her gaze fixed on the pastry as Garl placed a serving in front of her.
The moment the first bite touches Valere’s tongue, she knows. The scent of ripe peaches fills her nose, their sweetness blending perfectly with the rich, velvety cream. The delicate layers of the pastry flake apart with each bite, buttery and crisp - the balance of flavours perfect. Her eyes widen as she savours the taste, childhood memories rushing back in an instant. She hasn’t realized how much she had missed this. Tears sting her eyes as she recalls how Erlina and Brugaves would bring her and Zale peaches upon returning from their journeys. It was a beautiful, bittersweet memory.
“Oh my gods,” she practically whines as she took another bite. “I totally forgot how good they tasted.” She swallows, looking at Garl with absolute delight. “This is perfect.” A blissful smile stretches across her lips. “I love it. Really”
Across the table, Zale makes a noise of pure satisfaction, already stuffing another bite into his mouth, cheeks puffed with food as he mumbles, “Goff, thith ith tho good!”
The dining room soon fills with nothing but the symphony of munching noises, satisfied hums, and the occasional contented sigh.
Garl leans back, soaking it all in.
This. This was what he has been working so hard for. Seeing their faces, the way their eyes lit up with every bite. It is everything he has hoped for.
Maybe he doesn’t have any cool magic like Zale or Valere. But he doesn’t need to. Because strength isn’t just about wielding power. Sometimes, it is as simple as a good meal. As simple as making the people he cares about smile.
And in this moment, that is more than enough.
After finishing her third dessert plate, Teaks let out a deep, satisfied sigh, leaning back in her chair. She gives her stomach a gentle pat and grins. “That was perfect, Garl. Thank you for such an amazing dinner.”
Haru joins her contented sigh and nods in agreement. It feels as if she is having a food baby right now.
Zale, still chewing, nods frantically, shoving another piece of pastry into his mouth.
Garl chuckles while watching his friends with nothing but warmth in his heart.
“So…” Valere, now fully relaxed with good food in her stomach and a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, props her chin against her hand, gazing at Garl with an amused glint in her eyes. “This whole ‘mission’ of yours,” she teases with a smirk on her lips. “Was it really just about gathering peaches for me?” She snickers, giving him a knowing look.
Zale, glancing between Garl and Serai, finally catches on. His face lights up with realization, and with his mouth still full, he lets out a muffled laugh, nodding slowly in agreement with Valere’s teasing.
Unsurprisingly, Serai ignores the banter entirely. Garl, on the other hand, chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… Serai was a huge help,” he admits. “Without her, I wouldn’t have even made it that far.”
His eyes flicker toward Serai, who sits across from him, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
She meets his gaze briefly before shrugging. “With your sprained ankle, you’d still be stranded under that tree, waiting for someone to come rescue your sorry ass.”
Zale nearly chokes on his food as he wheezes with laughter.
Teaks grins, leaning forward. “And Resh’an would probably still be out there, flying around in circles looking for you.”
At the mention of Resh’an, Haru’s gaze drifts across the table, her amusement fading slightly as she takes in the empty spot where he should have been sitting.
He hasn’t been here all evening.
“Where is he, anyway?” she asks suddenly, cutting through the laughter.
Teaks glances at the empty spot, shrugging nonchalantly. “Being a loner as usual.”
“That would mean Serai wouldn’t be sitting with us either,” Zale snickers, flashing Serai a sly grin.
Serai’s eyes narrow dangerously. “One more word, and you’ll wish I hadn’t attended tonight,” she mutters, her tone low and warning.
Zale chuckles but wisely raises his hands in surrender, a cheeky grin on his face.
“Woah, woah, woah. Let’s all calm down, yeah?” Garl interjects quickly, rising from his chair with his hands raised in a placating gesture. He chuckles nervously as Serai’s sharp glare flicks from Zale to him.
But then, just as quickly, her expression softens. She lets out an exasperated scoff and crosses her arms, leaning back into her seat.
“Awww,” Teaks teases with a mischievous grin. “Looks like Serai has a soft spot for you after all, Garl.”
Serai snorts. “You better shut your mouth too, nerd.”
The group erupts in laughter, until the unmistakable thud of a cup hitting the table cuts through the noise.
All eyes turn toward Yolande, who, by now, was deep in her drunken haze.
She waves a hand lazily in Haru’s direction. “Saw the desert prince last on the ship, aye… ‘fore we headed for dinner,” she slurs. “But can’t promise he’s still there, hun…” With that, she lifts her cup again, taking a long, hearty gulp.
Haru gives her a quick nod before standing. “I’ll take a look.”
The group falls into a curious silence as she leaves the table, but soon, the lively chatter resumes behind her—muffled voices, laughter, the occasional clinking of glasses.
She steps out into the night, the cool air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the dining hall. She makes her way toward the ship, the faint sounds of laughter and conversation from the village are growing distant as she leaves it behind. It isn’t a long walk, but with every step, she feels the exhaustion settle deeper into her bones.
She should let it go for tonight and go to bed. But she can’t. Not before she has talked to him.
As she steps onto the ship and makes her way below deck, she carefully manoeuvres through the mess left behind from the pirates’ earlier ‘festivities’. The air is thick with the scent of wood, sea salt, and the lingering traces of alcohol.
At the end of the dimly lit corridor, she spots it. A soft glow spills from a half-open door.
Resh’an’s room.
Her pulse quickens as she walks toward it, her footsteps light but deliberate. She hesitates just outside. Should she knock? The polite thing to do would be to announce herself. But curiosity tugs at her, pulling her toward the faint sliver of light.
Just a quick look.
Slowly, carefully, she peeks inside.
Resh’an sits on the edge of his bed, his back slightly hunched, his posture unguarded in a way she isn’t used to seeing.
Her breath catches as his hands move methodically, unwinding the bandages around his arms. Layer by layer, the fabric falls away, revealing skin long ravaged by time.
His forearms are pale against the dim light. Ashen, lifeless. What once have been smooth and unblemished is now covered in deep, jagged scars, as if his body has been healed over and over again.
The skin itself is thin almost papery in places. There are lacerations scattered across his arms. Sections where the skin has cracked and flaked, revealing raw, irritated flesh beneath. Some other areas are mottled with faded bruising, remnants of wounds that have never fully healed. Along his wrists, faint traces of old experiments, trying to stop what is inevitable.
It isn’t just decay. It is evidence. Evidence of centuries of wear, of a body struggling to exist beyond its natural limits.
And for the first time, Haru fully understands. She has always known that his and Aephorul’s immortality came with a price, but seeing it like this…seeing him like this, makes it more real. More depressing.
No wonder he covers himself.
Her throat tightens and the guilt flares up in her chest. She knows she shouldn’t be staring. She should turn away, respect his privacy. Pretend she hasn’t seen anything. But she can’t. Because for the first time since their reunion, Resh’an doesn’t look untouchable. And that, more than anything, makes her heart ache.
Resh’an stares down at his disfigured arms, his gaze heavy with something unreadable. Slowly, he flexes his fingers then clenches his hands into fists, his movements unsteady. His breath comes slow and measured, but even that can’t hide the way his body betrayed him.
Haru swallows hard. She has never seen him like this.
So exposed, vulnerable.
And for a brief moment, it is as if the centuries of distance between them vanished.
Then, suddenly, his head snaps up. His brown eyes widen in shock, flickering with something that looked far too close to embarrassment.
“…Haru”
His voice is shaken, just slightly, but enough for her to hear it. He straightens instinctively, trying to compose himself, but the damage has already been done. “What are you doing here?” His tone is forced, strained, and she doesn’t miss the way his gaze darts away in shame. He tugs at the wide sleeves of his robe, trying to cover the ruined skin, trying to hide himself.
Haru freezes, feeling like she has been caught doing something she shouldn’t. “Resh’an, umm… I was looking for you.”
His expression hardens. His shoulders tense.
“Just leave.” His words are quiet, but the weight behind them is sharp—unyielding. He doesn’t want her here. That much is obvious.
But Haru can’t move. Something deep in her gut tells her that this—this moment, this crack in his carefully constructed armor—is the key. The key to finally reaching him, to breaking through the walls he has spent millennia building.
So, she takes a breath, steeling herself.
“Resh’an, please,” she says softly. “It’s alright,” her voice barely above a whisper.
His jaw tightens visibly. His hands in his lap curl into fists once more.
“I said leave.” His voice comes sharp, strained, his composure hanging by a thread. The command echoes through the small room, laced with something deeper than anger. Fear. Shame. Desperation.
She flinches at his harsh tone, a shiver running down her spine at the weight of his voice. But she still doesn’t leave. Instead, without a word, she steps inside and quietly shuts the door behind her. Resh’an watches her cautiously, his posture stiff, his hands still gripping the loose bandages in his lap. But he doesn’t tell her to stop. He doesn’t tell her to go.
Slowly, deliberately, Haru crosses the room and sits beside him on the bed, leaving enough space between them. Not too far, not too close.
Hesitation lingers in the air, thick and unspoken. Then, after a moment, she finally reaches out. Her fingers brush against his shoulder, light, hesitant. A simple touch.
His body tenses beneath her hand, his first instinct to pull away. But then—slowly, reluctantly—he leans into it. The warmth of her touch seeps through the fabric of his robes, a feeling he hasn’t let himself acknowledge in ages. It is unfamiliar, almost foreign, yet there is a quiet comfort in it. His expression softens, just slightly. Barely noticeable.
For a long moment, they just sit there. No words. No explanations. Just shared silence.
Then, at last, he breaks it, his eyes meeting hers.
“…Why are you here?” His voice is quieter now, stripped of its earlier edge. Defeated. Tired. “Shouldn’t you be in Mooncradle with the others?”
Haru holds his gaze, unwavering. “I was looking for you.”
Resh’an huffs in response, turning his eyes away.
“You should come and sit with us,” she continues softly. “You don’t have to spend your time here alone.” A small, knowing smile tugs at her lips. “I think the others would be happy to have their mentor around at dinner.”
At that, Resh’an scoffs, pulling back slightly from her touch, his expression twisting with something close to irritation.
“I’d rather be alone tonight,” he mutters, defensive. “Let them enjoy themselves. They don’t need me for that.”
The words come sharper than he intends, but Haru doesn’t flinch this time. She sighs at his stubbornness, her frustration evident. But her heart still aches for him and his visible struggle.
“And what if I want you to come?” she asks, her voice quiet but unwavering.
Resh’an scoffs again, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t waste your time on a half-dead man, Haru.” The words are bitter, laced with self-loathing, but what struck her the most was how easily he says them.
Her frown deepens. “Do you really think you’re a waste of time for me?”
Silence.
He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to.
Haru exhales, too tired to argue with him. Too exhausted to fight against a belief that has settled into him over centuries.
Instead, her gaze drifts downward. To his arms. The same arms he has been desperately trying to hide from her.
Carefully, hesitantly, she reaches out. “May I…?”
Resh’an body stiffens and his eyes widen. “What?” His voice cracks slightly, uncharacteristically shaken. “No. Why would you even want to see this?” His hands curl, retreating deeper into his sleeves. “It’s disgusting.”
The pain in his voice hits her like a physical blow.
“Bullshit,” she mutters. And before he can stop her, she reaches for his sleeve and gently tugs it upward, making his breath hitch.
His entire body goes rigid at her touch. Her fingers barely brush against his forearm, yet he reacts as if she has touched something sacred.
“H-Haru…” His voice comes out strangled, his brown eyes wide with shock, flickering with emotions he isn’t ready to name.
For a brief second, guilt flares inside her. She has overstepped. She knows she has. But gods, she is tired of him hiding.
She softens her touch, trailing featherlight fingertips over the ruined skin. The surface is rough, uneven, lined with scars and patches of worn, almost brittle flesh. Yet beneath the damage, beneath the years of suffering, is him.
“Does this hurt?” she whispers.
Resh’an swallows thickly, his breath uneven. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he shakes his head.
Haru hums in response. And then, with deliberate care, she continues tracing her fingers over his forearm, letting the gesture speak for itself. Because he needs to understand that she isn’t disgusted, or afraid.
Resh’an flinches under her touch, his entire body tensing as if bracing for something. But he still doesn’t pull away.
“Haru…” His voice is quiet, unsteady. He hesitates, his breath shivering slightly. “W-What are you doing?”
Even now, he wouldn’t look at her. But Haru doesn’t waver. Her fingertips move carefully over the damaged skin, slow and deliberate, as if she is handling something precious.
“I’m examining your skin,” she answers casually, though the warmth in her voice betrays her true intent.
His eyes widen slightly at her response, caught off guard by her lack of hesitation. But then, his expression darkened.
“Y-You shouldn’t do this… Really.” His voice drops, thick with self-loathing. And before she can react, he jerks his arm away, curling it toward himself like a wounded animal. “Leave me alone.” His tone turns sharp, a desperate edge beneath his words. “Go back to the others.” He hisses the words, but not in anger. It is more out of fear.
Haru reacts fast. Before he can retreat any further, she reaches out, wrapping her fingers gently around his wrist. Not tightly, just enough to let him know she isn’t letting go this easily.
“Resh’an,” she says softly, her voice laced with quiet reassurance. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.”
He tenses up again.
“How can you say that?” His voice is raw, almost a whisper, but laced with disbelief. “That you don’t mind?” His brown eyes flicker with something agonizing. “It’s disgusting. Repulsive.”
He wrenches his hand free from her grasp. Haru lets him go this time, but the rejection hurt.
“Resh’an, that’s not—”
“You don’t know what it’s like, Haru.” His voice trembles slightly. His fingers curl into fists as he turns away, his shoulders rigid with emotion. “When people look at you like you’re nothing. Like you’re—” His breath catches, and when he speaks again, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Like you’re not even human anymore.” A hollow, bitter laugh escapes him. “They stare as if I’m just some thing. A monster.”
And then, he looks at her again. And it nearly breaks her.
His usually unreadable eyes are now laid bare, filled with exhaustion, with pain, with centuries of suffering carried alone. His carefully maintained composure has shattered completely. And in its place sits a man who is fragile. Lost. Utterly broken.
The past weeks since the reunion, Resh’an has worn his stoic mask so flawlessly that she has almost believed it. That he is untouchable, distant, beyond reach.
But now?
Now she sees the truth. Beneath the silence, beneath the veiled expressions and indifferent words. He is broken. Lonely. An emotional mess.
The realization of his pain hits her like a tidal wave, sharp and unforgiving. Tears sting at the edges of her vision, her chest tightening as the emotions crash over her - overwhelming, suffocating.
This was Resh’an. Her Resh’an. Her best friend. The one she has once known as kind, passionate, and full of life, has been reduced to this. A man drowning in centuries of suffering, guilt and isolation. And she hasn’t been there. She couldn’t be there for him. Guilt claws its way up her throat, the familiar ache settling deep inside her.
She hates herself for it. For letting him go to Mina. For not fighting for him. For letting Aephorul imprison her for millennia. For not being there when he needed her most. For the simple fact that, in some way, she has been a piece in the cruel puzzle that has led him here.
But what hurts the most, what shatters her completely, was that, even now, he still doesn’t believe he deserves to be saved.
“H-Hey…” Her voice wavers, barely above a whisper. She swallows hard, forcing herself to stay calm.
This isn’t about her pain right now. It is about his.
Carefully, she moves closer. Her fingers reach out hesitantly and gently brush against his hand once more, intertwining with hers.
This time, he doesn’t pull away.
The moment their skin touched, a sharp, electrified sensation runs up her arm, sending a shiver through her.
Resh’an freezes. And for a second, she thinks he might push her away again, retreating behind his walls and burying himself in his solitude.
But then, he holds on. Tightly. Desperately. Like she is his only lifeline. His grip isn’t firm out of strength, but out of fear. Fear that if he let go, she would slip through his fingers. Fear that this moment, this brief connection, is just another thing that would be taken from him.
His gaze remains fixed on their intertwined hands, as if trying to memorize the feeling.
Haru’s heart pounds in her chest, her breath unsteady. She has held his hand countless times in the past - back when things were simple, back when they were just Haru and Resh’an.
But this? This was different.
His hand is colder now, rougher, worn by time and suffering. And yet, he is trembling slightly as he gripped her fingers, as if terrified that she might disappear.
Slowly, she lifts her gaze, and when their eyes meet, she sees it. The vulnerability he tries so hard to bury. The raw, open wounds beneath all his carefully built walls. The part of him that still needs her. And Haru knows, without a doubt, that she isn’t letting go. Not this time. She squeezes his hand gently, grounding him, steadying him.
“You’re not alone anymore, Resh’an,” she says softly, her voice unwavering and certain. Her thumb brushes over the back of his hand in slow, deliberate strokes, offering silent comfort. She can feel him tensing at her touch, but she doesn’t stop. “No one can hurt you anymore…”
His eyes widen, something raw flickering behind them before he quickly looks down again. “This… this isn’t right,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. His fingers curl slightly against hers, as if hesitant to hold on but unable to let go.
“I—” He swallows thickly, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. “I let you down, Haru…” His voice is small. Fragile. The complete opposite of the composed, distant Resh’an the world usually witnesses. “I let the person who meant the most to me down.”
Haru’s heart clenches painfully, but she stays quiet, giving him space to say what has long been buried.
“You should hate me,” he continues, his voice trembling. “You should loathe me for what I did to you…” His shoulders sag under the weight of his own words. “I failed you, Haru… I don’t deserve this.”
The pain in his voice is unbearable. Haru shakes her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Shan… please look at me.”
At the sound of his old nickname—one he hasn’t heard from her lips in centuries—Resh’an’s head snaps up instantly, his expression filled with surprise and guilt.
Haru inhales deeply, steadying herself. “No matter what happened between us…” she begins, her voice gentle yet firm. “No matter how much Aephorul manipulated us, tried to break us apart, you’re still my friend, Resh’an.” She tightens her hold on his hand, needing him to feel the truth in her words. “And I still care about you.” Her voice cracks slightly on the last sentence, but she doesn’t care anymore.
“Please,” she whispers, her grip firm, pleading. “Don’t push me away.”
Resh’an doesn’t speak. For a long, agonizing moment, he simply stares down at their intertwined hands, as if the weight of her words is too much to process.
Then, his grip on her hand tightens. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely holding together, thick with guilt.
“But it was my fault,” he murmurs, his breath shaky. “All of it was my fault, Haru…” He pauses, his throat working around the words like they physically hurt to say. “I shouldn’t have left you alone with him…” His voice cracks, the rawness of the admission seeping through every syllable. “I should have never left you in the first place.”
Haru feels his hand tremble against hers.
“You had to pay the price for my ignorance… my foolishness. I trusted his words and committed myself to someone I didn't even want.” His voice falters, barely above a whisper now. “I’m so incredibly sorry… I—” He can’t finish. The words die in his throat, choked by the overwhelming weight of his regret.
His words shatter something inside her. Before she can think, before she can stop herself, she moves. Haru pulls him into a tight embrace, wrapping her arms securely around him, as if she can shield him from the weight of his own suffering. She feels his body stiffen against her, rigid and unyielding, instinctively recoiling from the unfamiliarity of touch.
For a few agonizing moments, he remains frozen in her arms. How long has it been since someone has held him like this? Since he has allowed himself to be held?
But then, something inside him stirs. And slowly, cautiously, he melts into her warmth. His arms lift, wrapping around her just as tightly, his grip almost desperate. His covered face presses into her shoulder, his breath warm and uneven against her skin.
He clings to her like a drowning man to a lifeline.
Haru’s heart pounds like crazy. She can feel the tremor in his grip, the silent weight of centuries of isolation pressing against her. It feels like coming home after millennia of suffering.
“I don’t deserve this…” His voice is weak, muffled against her shoulder. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
“Nonsense,” she murmurs, tightening her hold, her cheek pressing softly against the fabric of his turban. “I got you.”
She wants to say more, wants to tell him it is okay, that she would forgive him, that she has missed him more than words could ever express. But the words stuck in her throat.
So instead, she just holds him. Pouring every unspoken emotion into her embrace, letting her presence tell him that he isn’t alone anymore. That she won’t leave him.
They sit in silence, wrapped in each other’s arms. Haru can feel the subtle tremors in his shoulders with every unsteady breath he takes. But she doesn’t speak. She doesn’t need to. She simply holds him. Because that’s what best friends do. That’s what matters now.
Her hand moves slowly, tracing soothing circles over his back, her touch light but deliberate. She feels him shiver slightly in response. For a man who has spent centuries distancing himself from the world, this moment of affection speaks louder than a thousand words ever could.
They have lost sight of each other. Yet somehow, after all this time, they have found each other again. And Haru isn’t going to let go. Not now. Not ever.
She will stay. She will fight for him, fight at his side to stop Aephorul. She will protect him and support him. Because despite the millennia that have passed, despite the pain, the regrets, and the changes time has carved into them both: He is still Resh’an. Her best friend. A brilliant, stubborn, infuriatingly nerdy alchemist. And the man she has hopelessly fallen in love with.
Notes:
Thank you for reading <3
Chapter 16: Deception
Chapter Text
Millennia ago…
“Six humans, one Water Ovate, and one Earth Ovate have gone missing in the past three months. We need to act before this gets worse,” one of the councillors urged, her voice sharp with concern.
An older councillor let out a thoughtful hum, folding his hands before him. “My theory remains unchanged: human trafficking. It has all the markings. I believe the Molgan from the North are involved. Some of our guards have reported sightings of them in the western districts. Two of the missing persons lived in that area.”
Another councillor, grey-bearded and stern, nodded in agreement. “We should follow up on that. I recommend we begin a focused investigation in the west.”
Haru sat quietly in her seat, listening to the exchange unfold around her. The council chamber was dimly lit in the early morning light, the air still heavy with the silence of too many unanswered questions. This emergency meeting had been called just after dawn, a clear sign of how seriously the disappearances were being taken.
More and more people were vanishing without a trace, and none had yet returned. There were no bodies, no signs of struggle. Just absence, like they had been erased.
Resh’an sat beside her, his expression unreadable. They had exchanged only a few brief words upon seeing each other again. Since he had moved to Mina’s hometown in the South, Haru hadn’t seen him in months. The reunion should have been comforting, but there was an awkward silence between them.
Their last real conversation had been months ago. Things hadn't been the same since the tavern incident. Resh’an had become more distant, as if he was trying to keep her at arm’s length. That thought stung more than she wanted to admit. Still, a part of her was grateful for even this. A quiet moment with him at her side, even if his presence felt colder than before.
Mina had remained in Nelanaar this time. Resh’an had come alone, summoned to Nexalis for the council meeting. In his Great Eagle form, travel was much easier and faster for him, and it took him only a few hours to fly over after receiving the message last night. It was one of the many advantages he had, and one more reminder of how much he had changed since they first met.
When the meeting concluded, Resh’an stepped over to Haru, waiting for her by the doorway. Without a word, they began walking side by side through the long corridor of the council building, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished stone floor.
After a few moments of silence, Resh’an exhaled heavily. “As if we didn’t already have enough problems,” he muttered, his voice low and tired. “The drought in the South is getting worse by the day, and the disputes with the North aren’t calming down either.”
Haru gave a slow nod, her eyes fixed on the ground in front of her. “Yeah. Hopefully no one else disappears before we figure out what’s going on,” she said quietly. Her tone was weary, and the heaviness in her voice made it clear how deeply the recent events were affecting her.
Resh’an nodded once in return. “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to stay and help much. People need me back in the South.”
Hearing those words, Haru felt a familiar ache settle into her chest. “So, you’re leaving again?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I’ll leave tomorrow morning,” he replied, his tone sombre. “Unfortunately…”
She nodded again, forcing a small smile to her lips. “Right. You’ve got a lot to do down there now… with your new responsibilities. Helping people and all that.” She kept her voice steady, but she couldn’t stop the wave of disappointment that churned in her stomach.
There was a short silence between them. The kind that said everything and nothing at once.
Then, Resh’an glanced over at her, his expression softer. “Let’s meet tonight,” he said. “At the tavern. You, me… and Aephorul.”
Haru’s head snaps up at him, her eyes lit up at his words. She nodded quickly, the spark in her expression giving her away more than she would have liked. “Yes. That sounds perfect,” she said, trying to keep her voice even, though it was obvious how much it meant to her.
Resh’an noticed the change in her face, the way her eyes brightened, the way her shoulders seemed just a little lighter. He looked at her with fondness in his eyes, his expression softens.
Aephorul was already sitting at the small table in Haru’s apartment, lazily flipping through a few transcripts Resh’an had left behind. He looked relaxed, almost too comfortable, as if the space belonged more to him than to her. The late afternoon light filtered in through the windows, casting soft shadows across the room.
Haru stepped inside and smiled when she saw him. She dropped her bag near the door and walked over.
“Hey,” she said brightly. “We need to leave in an hour to meet Resh’an tonight at the tavern, before he heads off tomorrow.”
Aephorul didn’t look up right away. He turned a page slowly, then finally glanced at her over his shoulder. His tone was casual but there was something off in the way he spoke, something that immediately pulled at her confidence.
“You sure that’s a good idea, Haru?” he asked, brushing a hand through his hair as he caught his reflection in the nearby mirror. “You know Mina’s going to be there too, right?”
Haru blinked in surprise. “Wait… what? Resh’an told me Mina couldn’t make it. He said she’s still in Nelanaar.”
Aephorul paused, then gave a small, knowing shrug. “Did he?” He turned back to the mirror, adjusting a strand of hair with unnecessary care. “Well… then I guess he didn’t feel like telling you the truth.”
He didn’t raise his voice, but the words landed with precision.
“He brought her with him this morning. I saw them myself. So, either he forgot to mention it… or he just didn’t want you to know.” Aephorul leaned back in the chair, lips curling into a faint, almost amused smile. “Maybe he wanted to see how you’d react. Or maybe he didn’t want you to back out. Either way, he was just trying to corner you… Real classy.” He lets out a sneer.
Haru stood there in silence for a moment, the smile fading from her face. The idea that Resh’an had lied or withheld something stung more than she wanted to admit. And the thought of Mina being there was making her stomach twist... But she didn’t want to back out.
“Still,” she said, trying to keep her voice light, though it came out unsure. “Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe Mina and I can just... get along tonight. I mean, it’s just one evening, right?”
Aephorul let out a quiet scoff, the sound sharp enough to cut through the last of her optimism. He turned to face her now, irritation creeping into his expression.
“Haru,” he said, his voice suddenly colder, “you do realise she doesn’t like you, don’t you? She’s never tried to hide that.”
She flinched slightly at the harshness in his tone but said nothing.
“She doesn’t want you there. She never does. And honestly, I don’t get why you keep pretending that’s going to change. Resh’an’s not going to fix it. He’s actually the one dragging you into this mess in the first place.” His voice dropped lower, almost a hiss. “So, when are you going to stop forcing yourself into places where you're not welcome?”
Haru’s shoulders tensed. She looked away, swallowing hard, and slowly sank down onto the couch. The weight of his words settled over her like a blanket soaked in cold water.
“Maybe you’re right,” she murmured, her voice small and tired. “I don’t want to ruin the evening for anyone.”
Aephorul didn’t reply. He simply turned his gaze back to the papers on the table, as if the conversation was already over.
Haru leaned back, her gaze drifting toward the window. She had been looking forward to tonight all day. A quiet evening with Resh’an before he left again. Something small. Something familiar.
But not with Mina. She still remembered the last time. The words. The way she looked at her with distaste when no one was looking.
Maybe it was better to stay home.
Since Resh’an had left, Haru couldn’t shake the feeling of being alone. Of being… left behind. Aephorul and her sister Tori were the only ones still around. The only ones who stayed. But even with them close, nothing filled the gap Resh’an had left.
He had been her best friend. They used to spend almost every day together, traveling, working, laughing. There was always something to talk about, some small adventure to share. Now, she was lucky if she saw him once every two months. And even then, it wasn’t the same, because Mina was always there. Watching her and guarding him like a bloodhound.
Mina didn’t like her, that much had been obvious since the night they spoke in the tavern. That cold conversation still echoed in Haru’s mind. And since then, Mina had done everything in her power to keep Resh’an at a distance. She had even convinced him to move south with her, so she could keep him close to her.
Sometimes, Haru caught herself wondering what Resh’an really thought about it all. About her and the current situation. But deep down, she had the sinking feeling that he wouldn’t be honest with her — especially not if Mina was around.
Aephorul, who was turning around again, noticed the way her expression had dimmed. He let out a soft sigh and got up from the chair to move closer, settling beside her on the couch.
“Hey…” he said gently, his voice low and more comforting again. “I know you’re upset. But believe me, it’s better staying home. You don’t need to go where you’re not wanted.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her slightly into him. The warmth of his body was grounding, steady, and in that moment, it helped more than she wanted to admit.
“I won’t be gone long,” he murmured against her hair. “And on my way back, I’ll get you something nice to eat, okay, sweet cheeks?”
She gave a small nod, her voice barely audible. “Okay… that sounds nice.”
A soft smile appeared on her lips. Small, fragile, but Aephorul saw it. He reached up to cup her cheek, stroking her skin with his thumb.
“Look at that smile,” he whispered. “That’s better. I don’t like it when you’re sad. It doesn’t suit you.”
He leaned in closer, nuzzling into the crook of her neck, letting his lips trail gentle kisses along her skin. A quiet sigh escaped her as a shiver ran down her spine.
And just like always, he knew exactly how to pull her in.
He stayed a little longer, his voice quiet and soft and his touches careful, coaxing her out of her thoughts and into the space where she didn’t have to feel anything at all. That was how he comforted her. With closeness. With distraction.
It always started like this. Slow, intimate, soothing. And before long, they had ended up in bed together again.
He said it helped. That it made her forget and feel better.
And maybe it did. At least for a moment.
But afterward, as she lay there alone, listening to the quiet click of the door as he left her apartment, that same emptiness returned. The silence stretched around her, too big for the space, too loud to ignore.
She curled the blanket tighter around her and stared up at the ceiling.
She was alone again.
And somehow, even though she knew Aephorul was still there for her, it never felt like it was enough. Not really.
Aephorul stepped into the tavern, brushing off his coat as he scanned the room. The warm glow of lanterns lit the space in soft gold, but his eyes were already fixed on the figure seated in the back corner.
“There you are,” he called with a crooked grin as he approached. “Sorry I’m late. Some idiots thought it’d be a great idea to try and rob me on the way here. Can you believe that?”
He let out a breath and dropped into the seat across from Resh’an with a dramatic sigh of relief.
Resh’an nodded at him in greeting, though his eyes flicked past Aephorul, scanning the room behind him with a slight frown on his face.
“Where’s Haru?” he asked, clearly confused. “I thought she’d be with you.”
Aephorul shrugged, waving the question away with a lazy flick of his hand. “Ah, yeah. About that. She said she was feeling tired all of a sudden. Wanted to rest. You know how she is — always burning herself out.”
Resh’an’s gaze dropped to the cup in front of him. He ran a thumb along the rim before finally speaking, his voice quiet. “I see. That’s… disappointing. Especially for tonight…” He paused, then sighed heavily, the frustration clear on his face. “I feel like she’s avoiding me again.”
Aephorul leaned back in his chair, resting an arm across the backrest as the waitress placed a cup of wine in front of him. He took a sip before answering, as if weighing his words. Or pretending to. “Maybe she is,” he said at last, letting the words hang between them. “Maybe she didn’t feel tired at all. Maybe she just didn’t want to see you.”
Resh’an looked up at him, his expression tightening.
Aephorul gave a small shrug, tapping his fingers against the glass. “Look, I’m not saying it to be cruel. But we all move on, don’t we? Things change. People change. Maybe she’s just not as interested in keeping that connection anymore.”
Resh’an didn’t reply right away. He stared at the wine, as if it could offer answers he didn’t want to say out loud. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter.
“Maybe… But I can’t just give up on her and our friendship. Not completely. Not yet.”
Aephorul let out a low groan and rolled his eyes, setting his cup down with a soft thud. “You’re still the same stubborn idiot.”
Resh’an shot him a glance, but Aephorul went on, more insistent now.
“When are you going to realise this is for the best? You’ve already got someone by your side now. You’ve got Mina. And unlike Haru, Mina actually chooses to be there. She supports you. She doesn’t make you guess what you mean to her.”
Resh’an’s jaw tightened. “It’s not that easy. Even with another partner, Aephorul. I can't just pretend that Haru didn't mean anything to me. Like I never—”
Aephorul cut him off, his voice firmer now, almost scolding. “You’re being overdramatic.”
Resh’an looked at him, visibly irritated, but he said nothing.
Aephorul continued, sitting up straighter. “You have a beautiful, loyal woman by your side. Mina is everything you need right now. She’s steady and kind. And she’s devoted. That’s rare; and you’re lucky to have it.”
Resh’an exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders still there. He turned his gaze toward the window, where the streets outside were quiet and lit by lanternlight.
“Yes…Mina… she is kind,” he said after a moment. “And…she’s beautiful.” He paused, his voice softening. “…but she’s not Ha—”
“Nope. Not that nonsense again,” Aephorul cut him off sharply, waving his free hand in clear disapproval. His other hand lifted his cup, and he took a long, deliberate sip of his wine.
He put the cup back down on the table with a soft thud, then leaned forward, the previous irritation already fading from his features. “Let’s not talk about the girls tonight. I’m not in the mood for more of that drama.” His voice shifted, lighter now, more interested. “What I am curious about is the latest progress on the rejuvenation project. You mentioned something about refining the cellular bonding sequence?”
Resh’an sighed, his expression collapsing into quiet resignation. As usual, when he started talking about Haru, the conversation was cut short. Still, he nodded, too tired to argue with him.
“Yes. The latest findings…”
It had been several months since Haru had seen Resh'an.
Over time, Haru began to notice changes in Aephorul. He had grown increasingly distant. He no longer visited as often as he used to, and when he did, it felt like part of him wasn’t really there. He was distracted, almost absent-minded, as if his body remained in the room but his thoughts had wandered far away.
Whenever she asked him about it, he would brush it off with a tired smile, saying he was busy. Always busy with his current projects. Sometimes, he would vanish for a week, sometimes two, without so much as a message. And when he returned, it was always the same excuse: work.
She had tried to ask more about what exactly he was working on, genuinely interested, but he avoided the topic every time. He would change the subject, promise to show her something “when it was ready,” claiming the results weren’t worth sharing yet. But something in his voice, in the way his eyes lit up when he mentioned his experiments, told her otherwise. He was obsessed.
Still, Haru hadn’t been too worried. Not yet. Aephorul had always been like this when inspiration struck. Transmutation alchemy was his passion, it had always consumed him. It wasn’t unusual for him to become reclusive when a new idea took hold of him. And yet... this time felt different.
He usually was travelling around often, but whatever he was working on had rooted him to Nexalis. And unlike before, he was secretive. Not in the playful, excited way she remembered, but warily. Almost defensive. And lately, his mood had changed too. He was quicker to anger, more easily irritated. She had noticed how carefully she had started to tread around him, trying not to ask too many questions.
She didn’t know if it was because the project wasn’t progressing the way he wanted, or if it was something else entirely. Either way, she didn’t push. But the curiosity remained.
And Resh’an hadn’t been in the city for a long while either. The growing tension and political unrest in the South had kept him away. With both of them gone, Haru felt increasingly alone, like she was watching the world change from behind a glass wall.
With a quiet sigh, she rose from the couch and walked over to the mirror.
She barely recognised herself these days. Her eyes looked tired, ringed with shadows. Her skin was pale, her posture slack from nights spent tossing and turning. The last few weeks had drained her completely.
More humans and Ovates had disappeared. More than ever before. Every report, every conversation made the fear among the people grow.
During the investigations, it had become clear that traffickers were behind the disappearances. Still, no one had been able to find out where the missing persons had ended up.
The criminals who had been caught kept their mouths shut and refused to reveal anything about their customers.
Then, in the latest report, something strange caught her attention. Someone living on the outskirts of the Western Forest had come forward. They claimed to have seen a figure walking alone into the forest, someone who looked similar to one of the missing. The person headed toward the abandoned orphanage deep within the trees. They hadn’t followed them. Just watched from a distance as the figure disappeared among the trees and bushes.
Of course, the investigation teams had already been there. And, as expected, they found nothing. But Haru couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d missed something. That something had been overlooked. Forgotten.
Because when she closed her eyes and thought of that place, the air around her shifted. Waiting. As if something was calling out to her.
And she knew that the wind doesn’t lie. It remembers and carries things. Whispers, echoes, fragments of truth.
And she didn’t know why. Maybe it was desperation, the need to understand, to do something while more and more kept vanishing. But that strange feeling had settled in her bones like a storm on the horizon.
And it had led her here. She stood before the crumbling estate, staring up at the abandoned, half-collapsed building. It looked like something pulled straight out of a horror novel — jagged shadows and broken windows. The stories whispered about this place weren’t much better. Dark things. Unspoken things.
She wouldn’t be surprised if she found bodies inside.
Regret was already creeping in. Maybe she shouldn’t have come alone. But it was too late. Curiosity, instinct and that voice in the wind had brought her here. And now she had to see it through.
She just wanted to get it over with, sweep through the place quickly, confirm that nothing was hidden here, and quiet the voice in her head that kept urging her back.
It was the middle of a sunny day. Thankfully. Light poured through shattered windows and broken doorframes, painting long, warm shafts across the ruined floors. To her relief, the estate was well lit, no shadows thick enough to hide in. Still, something about the silence felt heavy.
She moved from room to room, her boots echoing dully against warped wooden boards, the sound swallowed by the stillness. Dust floated in the air like forgotten memories, disturbed only by her steps and the occasional whisper of wind slipping through cracks in the walls.
She would never walk through this place at night.
Each room was a relic. Overturned furniture, rusted hinges dangling from doors that led nowhere. On the ground floor, nature had begun to reclaim it. Ivy threaded through floorboards and the moss clinged to walls. In the hallway, the broken limbs of a tree had burst through a window, its branches now arching like skeletal arms across the ceiling.
She paused as she entered one room, smaller, more preserved.
A nursery.
Tiny beds, barely more than frames now, sat in neat rows. One of them still had the ghost of a blanket draped across it, faded to a dull gray-blue. A rocking chair stood motionless in the corner. The wind moved through a crack in the ceiling, swirling gently through the nursery. It felt like a breath. Like the place itself exhaled.
She shivered.
Something about it all was too still. Too quiet. As if something watched from beyond the ruined walls, waiting for her.
She continued to move through the estate with slow, deliberate steps, checking every room one by one. But like the others before her, she found nothing. But something still felt wrong.
Haru stepped into what must’ve once been the dining room. The remains of long-rotted furniture lined the walls, and dust clung to the air like ash. She paused. Unlike the other rooms, where the floor had splintered and been overtaken by moss and roots, this room’s ground was… pristine. Untouched. Almost too clean.
As if…
She knelt down and placed her palm against the cold wooden floor.
There it was.
A subtle draft, almost imperceptible to anyone else but not to her. She could feel it. A delicate pull of air, circling beneath the floorboards, as if the wind was trying to speak through the seams. Her bond with the wind ran deeper than most Wind Ovates ever learned to reach. She didn’t just command it. She listened.
There was something below. A chamber, sealed off and completely hidden.
But the investigation reports hadn’t mentioned any cellar.
And if they hadn’t found it, and she couldn’t find any entrance either… Then maybe the entrance wasn’t inside at all.
Haru rose and made her way out of the building, letting her instincts guide her. She circled the estate slowly, scanning the edge of the forest as brambles clawed at her boots. Then she spotted it. A half-collapsed cabin near the treeline, so ruined it barely looked like a structure anymore.
She stopped in her tracks.
There it was again. That strange sensation in her lungs, a flicker in the pressure, like a whisper tugging at her awareness.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the wind flow through her, around her and beneath her feet. She dropped into stillness, merging with the current of air that laced through the forest floor. Her senses expanded outward and there, beneath the ruins of the cabin, the airflow bent unnaturally. A slow draw, like a breath pulled through a crack.
A hollow beneath the earth.
Her eyes snapped open.
Swiftly, she stepped into the remains of the cabin and pushed aside broken beams and collapsed timber. The wood groaned under her touch, but she moved with precision until her fingers found the edge of a panel. A hatch, half-buried under debris.
A door.
She gripped the rusted handle and pulled. The door resisted, then jerked open with a crack of protesting wood. A steep staircase descended into the blackness below, the air heavy and still. The hairs on her arms rose.
Haru hated the dark. But the wind had led her here. She swallowed hard and stepped cautiously down the first few stairs.
The air shifted immediately, damp and cold. The further she descended, the more the light behind her faded. For a while, she could still make out the rough stone corridor ahead, lit faintly by the daylight trailing down the stairs. But then… just darkness.
It was the kind of black that gave her goosebumps. A silence so absolute it pressed in on her ears. She hesitated, instinct flaring. Maybe this was far enough. Maybe she should turn back.
And then - a flicker.
Around the corner, deeper down the hall, a warm glow blinked into view. There was a torch, burning.
Haru froze.
A lit torch… in the cellar of a ruined orphanage. Hidden in the woods and forgotten by nearly everyone.
That meant only one thing:
Someone was here recently.
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, every logical thought screamed at her to leave. To get reinforcements. To not go further alone. But she didn’t turn around and leave. She couldn’t. She was too close now. Whatever this place was, it had remained hidden for too long. And she’d found it.
She stepped forward, quiet like a breeze slipping through trees. The corridor bent sharply, and with each turn, more torches revealed themselves. They were spaced evenly, flickering gently, like they’d been lit not long ago.
The walls became smoother. Carved stone replaced crumbling brick. She noticed the details now. Archways, reinforced beams, built with care and purpose. This was not a basement. Not a storage room. This place had been constructed for something.
She continued through the winding maze, the wind gently whispering at her back, nudging her forward.
It felt like a labyrinth. No, it was one. Complex, deliberate. Haru marked each corner in her mind, trying to trace her path backward just in case.
Finally, she entered a small chamber. Quiet, dry, and strangely preserved. At the far end stood a door. Heavy wood. Iron brackets. Sealed shut with a thick padlock.
She stepped up to it and tested the handle.
Locked.
“Of course,” she muttered under her breath, backing away with a frustrated sigh. She looked around the room for anything useful, and her eyes landed on a chunk of stone. A broken piece of pillar or wall, too heavy to lift by hand.
But not for her.
She exhaled and raised her palm, feeling the weight of the air curl around the stone. With a sharp movement of her wrist, the wind responded — lifting, spinning, and launching the stone across the room with a deafening crack.
The door didn’t just creak open. It exploded inward, wood splintering and metal groaning in protest. The echo rang down the tunnels like a warning bell.
Haru winced. So much for subtle.
She stepped through the broken doorway, her heart hammering in her chest. Suddenly, the smell hit her like a wave - thick, cloying, and unmistakable. Haru stopped in her tracks for a moment until she understood that it was the smell of death.
She staggered back a step, instinctively pulling her cloak up to cover her face. The scent was old but strong, soaked deep into the stone. It filled her lungs and clung to her throat. Haru stood frozen, every fibre of her screaming to turn back.
But she didn’t. She took a shallow and sharp breath and stepped into the dark.
The air grew colder and the corridor narrowed, the stonework changing subtly, as though she had crossed into a place not meant to be found. The walls seemed to close in, whispering secrets as the air moved silently through the long underground path.
Then she entered a room and stopped.
A lab.
Or… something close to it. Alchemy tools, surgical instruments, glass vials, bonesaws — all laid out in eerie precision on a bloodstained table. The metallic scent of iron clung to every surface. Some tools looked clean, polished even. Others were caked in old, rusted red. She pulled a torch from the wall, its flame flickering wildly as the tense air circulates around it.
"What the hell is this place..." she whispered, though the sound felt too loud in the silence.
She moved forward to the next room. It was worse. She froze in the doorway, the breath knocked out of her lungs. Blood. Everywhere. Smeared across the walls, pooled on the floor, staining the ceiling in dark splashes like some grotesque mural. It wasn’t random. There was rage in the pattern. Or madness.
Haru’s stomach twisted. Her instincts screamed to leave. To run. But she didn’t. Curiosity pushed her deeper.
As she crept further into the underground complex, the full extent of the horror revealed itself, piece by piece. Tables with restraints. Broken cages. Rotten flesh. Remnants of things that had once been human or maybe tried to be. Some body parts were unrecognizable, twisted into unnatural shapes or grafted with other parts.
It was an abomination of nature. Of life itself. And someone had done this deliberately. She could feel it in the air, in the way the wind refused to move here and silence held its breath. It would only begin to ravage around her, as if trying to warn her.
Something terrible had happened in this place. That was clear. Judging by the state of decay, it doesn't seem that long ago either.
“What the…” Haru whispered, her voice almost lost in the stale, heavy air around her.
She lifted the sleeve of her cloak to cover her mouth, the collar no longer enough to block out the overwhelming stench that filled the corridor. The air was thick with the sickening scent of dried blood and decay, and there was something else beneath it, something foul and chemical, like spoiled medicine. Her stomach turned, and for a moment, she thought she might be sick, but she clenched her jaw and forced the feeling down. She couldn’t afford to lose her composure now. Not here. Not when something felt so wrong.
She moved forward carefully, passing through narrow hallways that branched into other corridors and rooms, each more confusing than the last. The deeper she went, the clearer it became that this was not just a single lab hidden beneath the orphanage. This was a sprawling complex — a maze — buried beneath the forest. If she didn’t find her way back to the lab, there was a very real chance she would not find her way out again.
Then, just as she rounded another corner, a sound stopped her in her tracks.
A faint, muffled whimper.
She froze, straining to hear it again, unsure if it was just the wind around her whispering to her. But then it came again, barely audible but undeniably human. Her breath caught as she turned, trying to locate the source. It came from the corridor behind her. Slowly, carefully, she retraced her steps, following the sound as it grew ever so slightly louder with each step she took.
As she approached an open doorway, she moved with practiced caution. She pressed her back to the wall and leaned forward just enough to peek inside.
The sight that met her eyes made her freeze in horror.
A man sat slumped in a chair in the center of the room. His wrists and ankles were bound tightly with torn cloth and leather straps, and his mouth was gagged. He was the source of the sound. The soft, pitiful whimpering that had drawn her here. He was still alive, barely.
His body was in a terrible state. One of his legs had been crudely amputated, the stump poorly bandaged and soaked in blood that had long since dried and turned black. The wound looked infected, swollen and angry. But what truly made her blood run cold was the sight of his remaining foot and one of his arms. The limbs had been altered in some grotesque way. The flesh had mutated, the skin stretched unnaturally over bulging veins and twisting muscle that pulsed faintly beneath the surface. His fingers no longer looked human. They were longer, clawed, misshapen. Almost like they belonged to something else entirely.
His head lifted slightly, and when his eyes met hers, she felt a flash of recognition. The description matched him perfectly, it had to be the man who had run towards the orphanage.
He tried to speak through the gag, his body trembling as he struggled against his restraints, but the only thing that came out was a pained, incoherent noise.
Haru remained rooted in place, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. There was something about this place, about what had been done to this man, that was worse than anything she had imagined. It wasn’t just cruelty. It was experimentation. Transformation.
And whoever had done this… might not be far away.
The man continued to sob, his whimpers rising in pitch the moment Haru stepped fully into the room. He was trembling, trapped in panic, his wide, terrified eyes fixed on her as though he expected her to hurt him too.
“Hey, shhh…” she said softly, raising her hands to show she meant no harm. “It’s alright. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.”
But he couldn’t understand her or maybe he didn’t believe her. His sobs grew louder, more desperate, his breath hitching behind the gag as he struggled uselessly against the restraints. Haru’s heart clenched. Whatever he’d been through, whatever he’d seen, it had broken something in him. She could only imagine who or what he thought she was.
She took a slow step closer, keeping her voice low and gentle.
“I know you’re scared. But you’re safe now. I promise.”
His eyes flicked to her torchlight, the only warmth in the dark room, and then back to her. He didn’t stop shaking, but his cries faded into soft, exhausted breaths. That was enough.
Haru approached him slowly, step by cautious step, and now that she was close, she could see just how bad his condition really was. His skin was pale, sickly, and covered in sweat. His body was gaunt, as if he hadn’t eaten for a longer time. She still couldn’t understand how he was even conscious, let alone alive.
She set the torch carefully down on the bloodied table beside him, the flickering flame casting long, wavering shadows across the walls. Then she knelt in front of him.
“Let me take that off, alright?” she murmured, reaching for the cloth that gagged him.
He flinched at first, but didn’t resist. With delicate fingers, she loosened the fabric and pulled it away.
The moment his mouth was free, he broke down completely.
“Please…please help me,” he cried, his voice hoarse and ragged. “He… he killed everyone else. I’m gonna be next, I know it. I know I am…”
His voice cracked, collapsing into sobs again. Haru felt the chill rush through her veins like a cold wind. She swallowed hard, trying to steady her breathing as a shiver ran down her spine. Everything in her wanted to panic, to run, but she forced herself to stay grounded.
She needed to be strong now. For him.
“What’s your name?” she asked, keeping her voice as calm as she could.
The man looked at her, his eyes wild, still brimming with fear. His lips trembled, and for a second, she thought he might not be able to answer. “A-Alvin,” he choked out.
“I’m Haru,” she said gently. Haru tried to push the fear aside as she reached for the knots at his wrists. Her hands were trembling as she works on the knots that bound him, her fingers fumbling at first, but she forced herself to focus. She had to hold it together. For his sake. For hers. The ropes had been tied tightly, cutting into skin, but with enough effort, they finally gave way. She slipped an arm around his back and helped him up, careful not to jostle his injuries. He groaned, barely able to stand, but with her support, he managed to lean against her.
“Alvin… who did this to you?”
“He’s… I don’t know who he is,” Alvin rasped, his voice dry and raw from thirst and pain. “I was kidnapped by human traffickers in the Western Forest. They sold me to this madman… They called him the Shaper, but he never told me his real name.”
The Shaper...
A cold shiver ran down Haru’s spine.
Alvin let out a shaky breath, his whole body trembling. “He’s insane. Completely unhinged. He uses transmutation magic... to twist our bodies, to experiment on us like we’re nothing. He cut off my leg. My arm.” His voice broke, and he glanced down at the mutilated limb in question. “And then he changed it into this.”
Haru followed his gaze. The mutated arm pulsed faintly in the dim light, as though it had a heartbeat of its own. It barely resembled a human limb anymore. Her breath caught.
“Come on,” she said, slipping under his arm and lifting him carefully. “We’re getting out of here.”
He leaned on her, barely able to stand, but it was enough. He was light, far too light, but together, they could walk.
“The others,” Alvin went on, his voice growing weaker, “they’re already gone. All of them. He killed them.”
A cold shiver ran through her, deep and sharp. What the hell was this place? What kind of monster had been hiding beneath the forest, beneath the orphanage?
She tightened her grip on him and moves forward, supporting him as they made their way slowly back into the dimly lit tunnel system. Her boots echoed dully against the stone floor. Every shadow seemed to move at the edge of her vision, but she tried to keep her focus. She had to find the way back. She didn’t know how much time Alvin had left.
They walked for a while. Haru tried to remember the way they had come. They had to get out as soon as possible because Alvin was getting weaker with every step. She tried to keep him awake so he wouldn't faint.
"Did you try to escape?" she asked softly, breaking the silence.
He nodded weakly. “Y-Yes… some of us tried. But they didn’t get far. He caught them… used them for his experiments. Tortured them until they died.” He swallowed hard, his voice breaking. “I’m the only one left now.”
Haru grit her teeth. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, fear tightening her chest. “You’re going to survive this, do you hear me? You’re getting out of here.”
Alvin didn’t respond right away. He was breathing harder now, every step clearly costing him more energy. Haru slowed her pace to match his. She could feel how unsteady he was becoming — his weight dragging heavier on her shoulder.
“Hey,” she said, her voice sharper now, desperate. “Don’t give up on me. We’re almost there. Just hold on.”
“I’m trying,” he mumbled, his words beginning to slur. “I’m giving my best…”
Haru’s eyes dropped to his leg. The makeshift bandage was soaked through, dark and wet. His skin looked pale, almost grey beneath the torchlight.
Shit.
She tightened her grip on him again, her jaw clenched.
“It’s alright,” she said, forcing her voice to stay calm. “You can do this. We’re close. Just a little further, okay? Stay with me, Alvin.”
He gave a weak nod, and they kept moving, step by step into the dark, uncertain maze ahead.
Suddenly, a sound echoed through the tunnel. Distant at first, but sharp enough to make both Haru and Alvin freeze in place. Footsteps. Slow. Measured. And then, a voice.
A male voice, calling calmly down the corridor behind them.
“Alvin…”
They both turned at once, their heads snapping toward the source of the sound. Haru’s breath caught in her throat.
“It’s him,” Alvin whispered, panic blooming in his voice as his whole body began to tremble again. “He’s coming. He’s after me.”
The voice rang out again, clearer this time, floating down the stone passage in an eerie sing-song rhythm. “I know you’re still here… I can see the blood on the floor~”
Haru’s heart pounded against her ribcage, the sound almost deafening in her ears. That voice… Something about that voice felt familiar yet terrifying.
She looked down.
Blood. Alvin’s blood was dripping steadily from his injured leg, trailing behind them in a gruesome path. Her stomach dropped. They had marked their entire route without realizing it. He was following them. And he was getting closer.
“Okay… okay. Come on. We need to move. Now,” she whispered urgently, pulling Alvin’s arm tighter around her shoulder.
But he was barely upright.
“I… I can’t,” he muttered weakly, his head falling forward. “I’m so tired…”
“Just a bit more, Alvin. Please,” she whispered back, nearly begging. Her voice cracked, her throat raw with panic. She couldn’t lose him. Not now.
Another call echoed through the tunnel, the voice closer now. There was a cruel edge to it, something mocking and amused, as if this were all a game.
Alvin looked at her with wide, terrified eyes. “I don’t want to die,” he said, his voice barely above a breath.
“Y-You won’t,” she said quickly, though her own fear was now spilling out into every word. She tried to keep moving, to half-carry him down the corridor, but suddenly he collapsed. His weight fell away from her, and she stumbled to her knees beside him.
“No, no, no…” Haru whispered, frantic now. “Please… just a bit longer…”
She could hear the footsteps getting louder. Closer.
Alvin was trembling. “Leave… Please…” he rasped, looking up at her with eyes full of pain.
She shook her head, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “N-No… I can’t. I’m not leaving you here.”
“You have to,” he said, his voice thin and breaking. “You need to escape… tell them… stop him. If you die too, he’ll just keep going.”
“I can’t just leave you,” she whispered, her throat tightening, hot tears brimming in her eyes. “I won’t—”
“You can,” Alvin said, and this time his voice was calm, like the fight had already left him. “You know I’m right. I’m dead anyway. But you… you can make it matter.”
Haru stared at him, her heart breaking. She opened her mouth to protest again, but the words wouldn’t come. She could see it in his eyes. The resignation, the quiet understanding that this was the end for him. And deep down, she knew it too.
Her hands were shaking as she slowly rose to her feet.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice choked with guilt. “I’m so, so sorry…”
Alvin gave her a faint, sad smile. “Run.”
She turned, tears streaking silently down her face, and began to run. The torchlights against the walls flickered wildly as she fled.
Just as Haru turned the corner of the tunnel, a sharp, high-pitched whistle echoed behind her. She stopped dead in her tracks. Her breath caught in fear but she couldn’t run. Not yet. She had to see who it was.
Carefully, she crept back, pressing herself against the cold stone as she peered around the corner from the shadows. The flickering torchlight down the corridor cast long, shifting shapes, but then the figure came into view and her blood ran cold.
Her eyes widened. Her heart stuttered in her chest.
It was Aephorul.
He pulled his hood down as he stepped into the corridor like he owned it, his smirk calm, confident, almost amused. His footsteps were slow and deliberate, echoing off the walls like the measured gait of a predator. Haru remained frozen, hidden just out of sight, hardly daring to breathe.
Aephorul came to a stop in front of Alvin, who was collapsed on the floor, barely conscious. The man crouched beside him with a mock tenderness that made Haru feel sick.
“Alvin… there you are,” he said smoothly, his voice honeyed and low. “What are you doing all the way out here…?”
Alvin flinched, weakly trying to crawl backward, but there was no strength left in him. “Please…” he begged, barely able to form the words. “I didn’t mean to escape… I just—”
“Who helped you?” Aephorul asked, his tone shifting. Still soft, but now with a quiet, sharp edge.
“N-No one,” Alvin stammered, shaking his head desperately. “Please… I swear… please…”
Aephorul tilted his head, the smirk fading slightly. “I know you’re lying,” he said, his voice a low hiss now, something feral beneath the words. “Do you know what happens to liars, Alvin?”
Alvin broke down completely. His body trembled as he sobbed, the fear in his voice raw and helpless. “Please… I didn’t… I didn’t… Please don’t kill me…”
A soft, almost regretful sigh escaped Aephorul.
“Oh, Alvin,” he murmured, “I have to punish you… but honestly, in your condition, maybe it’s a mercy.”
Without another word, Aephorul raised his arm.
A moment later, Alvin's screams tore through the tunnel, raw and filled with agony. His body began to convulse, twisting and warping into something unrecognizable. A grotesque mockery of flesh.
The screaming stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Alvin’s body went still. He didn’t move again.
Haru’s hand flew to her mouth, stifling the cry that threatened to escape. Her whole body trembled as she backed away from the edge of the corridor, her mind racing, her breath shallow. Her heart felt like it was going to tear through her ribs. A quiet sob escaped her involuntary before she could stop it.
Aephorul’s head snapped up.
“Who’s there?” he growled, his voice suddenly stripped of all softness. He turned sharply, his eyes scanning the corridor like a predator scenting blood. “I know someone’s here. Show yourself!”
Haru didn’t wait. Her body moved before her mind could catch up, her instincts taking control. She turned and ran, the sound of her own footsteps thundering in her ears. She had no idea which direction she was going, only that she had to get away. The twisting corridors blurred past her, stone walls and torchlight streaking by as her pulse roared in her head.
Behind her, she heard movement. He was following her.
He had done this. He was the one behind the disappearances. He had captured them — innocent people — and twisted their bodies with transmutation magic until they were unrecognizable. Until they begged to die. He had murdered Alvin. Not just killed him, but ended his life as if it meant nothing, with no more thought than swatting a fly.
And Haru had once called him a close friend. No, they weren't normal friends anymore. He had become even more to her. And that thought, combined with today's events, left her feeling hollow and sick.
The shock of it hit her again like a blow to the chest, and for a split second, it nearly stole her breath. She felt like the floor might collapse under her. Her chest ached. Her legs burned. She wanted to scream. To release the storm of emotions building inside her. Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes, stinging with the effort of holding everything back.
Aephorul. The man she had trusted. The man who had touched—no. She forced herself not to think about it. She didn’t have the time. She was still running for her life.
Panic twisted in her stomach like a blade as she realised the corridors were getting darker and darker and it was becoming increasingly difficult for Haru to find the right path.
She turned left, then right, then left again — always choosing a new direction, always trying to stay ahead of him. But the deeper she ran, the more the tunnels began to blur together, each one looking more and more like the last. She didn’t know where she was anymore.
But Aephorul hadn’t lost his way. Somehow, he always seemed close. Too close. As if he knew this place by heart.
And she was trapped inside it, trying desperately to find an exit.
If he caught her, there would be no second chance. The look in his eyes said more than a thousand words. He was insane, a complete lunatic.
Haru couldn’t see much anymore, it was getting too dark. But she didn’t dare stop. The tunnels twisted and turned around her, unfamiliar and maddening, and she took each fork at random, praying she wasn’t doubling back.
Then, a narrow side passage appeared on her right, barely wide enough for her to slip through. She ducked in, heart slamming against her ribs, her lungs burning.
A loose wooden support beam clung to the wall near the entrance, barely holding everything together. Haru raised her trembling fingers and firmly coaxed the air through the crack behind it.
The wood groaned and shifted under the pressure. Then it snapped with a sharp crack. And before Haru could even brace herself, the entire tunnel entrance behind her gave way, part of the wall collapsed completely. She stumbled backward, pressing herself against the cold stone, her body tense and trembling.
She coughed quietly, trying to muffle the sound with the sleeve of her cloak. Her heart beat painfully in her chest. She didn’t know if it was enough. Had she made it in time? Could he still have seen her? Did he hear something that gave her away?
She held her breath.
On the other side of the rubble, she could hear him. An irritated hiss.
“Damn it, you little rat!” Aephorul’s voice sounded muffled now, distant behind the collapsed wall.
Haru didn’t move. Her back was pressed flat against the wall, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She forced herself to breathe slowly, carefully, through her nose, though her lungs still fought against the dust. She didn’t dare move. Not yet.
It had worked. Somehow, it had worked.
She sank slowly to the ground, her legs unable to hold her weight any longer. Her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, and for a moment she simply sat there in the darkness, trying to stop the shaking. Her body still felt like it was vibrating from the inside out, the rush of adrenaline not yet letting go.
Aephorul hadn’t seen her. He didn’t know. He had no idea it was her.
But the reality of what she had just witnessed pressed down on her now with full force. Alvin was dead. Aephorul had murdered him in cold blood, without hesitation, as if he had done it a hundred times before. And judging by his words… he probably had.
She gets up again. She had to find a way out. She wasn't safe here, and who knows, maybe he was already on his way to get her.
She wiped her face with the back of her hand and moved on. She had to get out of here to survive. And she had to tell someone what was happening beneath the forest. What Aephorul had become.
It was completely dark. She tried to use her abilities to find a way out, but the air was too still—lifeless, unresponsive. With no other choice, she moved cautiously along the wall, each step deliberate as she let the wind rush around her to scan her surroundings, supporting her perception. Her heart pounded with fear in her chest. The darkness was worse than she had imagined… but still better than falling into Aephorul's arms.
The tunnels felt endless in the darkness. Each corridor branched into another, leading her deeper into the underground maze. She began to realise that these underground tunnels were much bigger than she had thought.
What was this place? Why had she never heard of it?
She kept moving, always trying to stay light on her feet and avoid drawing attention. Aephorul might not have seen her, but if he started checking the exits…
She paused after a while, closing her eyes for a moment to check her surroundings again.
The air was still completely quiet. But then, only for a second, a faint shift brushed across her cheek. Barely there, but unmistakable. It was coming from the left passage. If there was airflow, there had to be a hole or a way out.
Carefully, Haru turned and followed the subtle current, feeling her way through the tunnel like a blind woman guided by wind.
The walls here were rougher, more cracked. This wasn’t part of the main structure. The floor was uneven, and debris littered the sides. She realised then that this must have been an abandoned section, likely forgotten or considered unsafe.
She pressed forward, crawling over broken beams and half-collapsed archways. Each breath was shallow. The air was thicker here, filled with dust and the scent of damp stone. But then — there it was again. The wind. Stronger now. Fresh.
She looks up to see a faint light at the top. Real light.
There was a small gap above her, a thin fracture in the ceiling leading up to the surface. It was far too high to reach for a normal human.
But not for Haru.
Closing her eyes, she called upon the wind, feeling the familiar hum of it respond to her will. The air around her shifted, gathering in swirling currents at her feet. With a focused breath, she jumped and commanded the wind to carry her upward. The air surged beneath her like a living force, catching her and driving her toward the gap. She clinged to the edge and forced herself through the narrow opening, scraping her arms and shoulders violently as she pulled herself out of the tunnels with the last of her strength.
The ground gave way beneath her, and she tumbled onto moss and dirt, blinking into the night sky above the treetops.
She was out. Alive.
Rolling onto her back, she gasped for air, too weak to stand, too spent to even think. The night pressed down around her, cold and still. Somewhere far below, Aephorul was still searching, still hunting. Hopefully unaware that she had slipped through his grasp.
The tears came freely now, running hot down her cheeks. She clutched at the moss with trembling fingers, struggling to hold herself together, but the emotions crashed over her like a storm.
Turning around, she crawled toward the nearest bush and vomited violently.
When it was over, she sank to the ground again, her breath ragged, her heart broken.
Not him. Not Aephorul.
The man she had trusted. The man she had let so close, allowed to touch her, to comfort her.
The man who had turned out to be a monster.
She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering in the cold air, the realisation sinking deeper with every heartbeat. He had killed innocent people. Twisted them. Played with their lives like they were nothing more than pieces on a chess board.
She felt sick. Ashamed. Stupid. But she couldn't waste any more time. She couldn't let herself collapse now.
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she forced herself to stand, her legs trembling beneath her.
She had to see Resh’an. She had to tell him everything.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading <3
Chapter 17: The Point of No Return
Notes:
Well... here I am, back again with the chapter I already uploaded last week but had to refine after my husband read it as usual to give me feedback... Then I realised I'd have to rework the whole chapter and deleted it because I was frustrated with the current version lol. Definitely won't upload anything too early again... :D
Soo...here is the updated version :3 (we're just pretending it's completely new and has never been released before hehe)
For this chapter, I was inspired by Slyycan's work Chrysopoeia <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Log Entry #412
[…]
The canine tolerated the new procedure significantly better than the avians.
Birds…fragile things, barely lasted seconds post-transmutation. Entirely unusable. The birdmen were definitely much more resistant… I really miss those days…
Mammals appear more viable. Cellular cohesion holds longer; nerve response remains intact for up to five minutes. Must catalog that.
The neighbor’s cat may prove useful. The woman can’t distinguish a hare from a house pet…unlikely she’d notice. A shame, really. Such a soft creature. But science demands sacrifice.
---
Log Entry #444
Significant tissue response achieved.
Muscle tissue from Subject D (retrieved canine) began spontaneous regeneration once fused with transmuted fibroblasts. The limb held for 11 minutes before necrosis set in.
A milestone. But still not enough.
Resh’an would disapprove, of course. He’d lecture me again about “better ways”, nobler paths to cure our condition.
As if ideals alone can rewrite the laws of flesh.
It fills me with a quiet, burning hatred seeing the way he recoils, the way he dares to call my latest experiments abnormal. Disturbing.
How can he say that?
All I see is progress. Refinement. Perfection.
But he’s always been like that. Too bound by his sanctimonious ideals to comprehend what true transformation requires.
Strange, considering how freely he accepts the gift I’ve given him. Does he truly believe the Great Eagle came without any sacrifices?
He never really asked how I made it possible. Does he ever question what such power costs? I doubt it. Probably, he never wanted to know.
Hypocrite.
But that’s fine. Let him continue to live in his bubble, cloaked in virtue and ignorance. One day, the truth will open his eyes... or crush him.
---
Log Entry #533
Stagnation. Animal subjects no longer yield meaningful results; plateaued weeks ago.
Animal tissue is too limited. Lacking complexity.
Lacking... potential.
I need better material. More complex. Something closer to the real target…
Rumours say human traffickers are active again in the northern and eastern districts of Nexalis.
How unfortunate.
But perhaps also an opportunity to finally advance my research?
And really, what’s gone is gone, isn’t it?
It’s not as if I’m the one taking them. I’m merely using what’s already been discarded.
If anything, I’m doing them a favour. Liberating them from chains and cages, from filth and abuse.
Mercy - a better end. And a purpose.
Yes... that’s what this is. A Purpose.
I know Resh’an would lose it completely if he knew I was even considering it.
But then…he doesn’t even know what I’ve done. What I’ve done for him.
So… what difference does this make now?
I can’t stop now…not when I’m this close.
Not when I might finally discover a way to heal. To restore my old body... or even surpass it entirely.
But Resh’an can’t stay here in Nexalis. He’s too close. Too involved.
If he starts asking questions, if he finds out about my work... I can’t take that risk.
He needs to leave.
And I will find a way to make sure that happens.
---
Log Entry #535
Humans are astonishingly naive. It baffles me how the traffickers operated unnoticed for so long…contacting them was insultingly easy.
The Ovates Council is either blind or wilfully incompetent. They hand Resh’an a seat at the table for playing the saint, while those with real insight are cast aside.
I would have served the Council far better than him. But no matter. Let them fumble in the dark.
I’ve outgrown their approval. What I’m building now… it transcends their petty titles.
---
Log Entry #538
I’ve finally convinced Resh’an—thanks to Mina—to leave Nexalis.
He’ll accompany her to Nelanaar, where her parents live.
The timing couldn’t be better. With the growing issues in the southern provinces, he feels obligated to help.
That made his decision even easier.
Much easier than I expected, really.
Now, I can prepare everything in peace without Resh’an’s constant scrutiny, without his ever-watchful, judging eyes.
Finally.
…
Still, I require a suitable location. Secluded, stable, near enough to the city for... supply.
It must be hidden. Forgotten.
I’ll find it. I must.
---
Log Entry #545
At last, a suitable location.
The lower tunnels beneath Nexalis’ outskirt; abandoned, silent, sealed by time and neglect. Not on any recent maps. Forgotten by the guards and by the Council…
Perfect.
They're not just tunnels, either. Some chambers remain intact: old storage vaults, collapsed catacombs, even a half-rotted temple chamber. Crude, but serviceable. With some clearing and reinforcement, they’ll suffice.
I’ve begun converting one of the larger vaults into a main lab space. A side room will be ideal for preparation. There is also a long corridor with many rooms that I can use as prison cells, so I can keep more than one person down there.
It’s all falling into place…
Not too far from the surface to maintain regular contact with the suppliers, yet buried enough that no one will stumble upon it. Now one will find or disturb me…
The Council would be horrified, if they even remembered these depths existed. But they don’t.
They’ve forgotten this place…just like they’ve forgotten me.
Let them. I don't need them anymore.
---
Log Entry #553
The transaction was seamless. No questions asked. My first human test subject arrived shortly after dusk; young, healthy, ideal.
However, the initial procedure was... messier than anticipated. I underestimated the volume of blood loss resulting from a full leg separation…and I underestimated the screaming and crying.
It was very intense to say the least. And, unfortunately, the subject expired before the grafting process could even begin.
What a waste of material…
Still, valuable data. I’ll adjust the incision method and add secondary restraints before the next trial. I have also planned to prioritise some other smaller experiments that do not require such drastic procedures. Efficiency is everything.
[…]
Since Resh’an left, it’s been mercifully quiet. No more long-winded rants. No more Haru this, Haru that.
He should be content with his new girlfriend…I made sure of that. I didn’t weave that lie for nothing. … Poor boy. He should know better than pining for his best friend like some lovesick puppy.
To this day, I still wonder how Resh’an and Haru could have been so painfully oblivious. Decades spent dancing around each other like blind fools.
Almost laughable how they both believed my lies. Every word.
But it worked.
She's mine now and there's nothing he can do about it.
It was so easy to manipulate her. A woman with a broken heart…so fragile and vulnerable. Desperate for comfort and affection.
…Still, if he ever finds out I touched her first… I’d love to see the look on his face.
But I know better than to make a scene.
---
Log Entry #558
Lately, sleep has become... difficult.
What happens during the day catches up with me at night.
It’s driving me mad.
Their pleading, their sobbing…I still hear it. Even when the rooms are silent, it echoes in my head.
They never stop crying.
It seeps into my thoughts, disrupts my focus... makes me feel.
Things I’ve spent years trying to bury.
And yet, even after everything. After all I’ve done… It still feels wrong. Doesn’t it?
There’s still remorse. Still doubt.
But I won’t let that stop me.
I can’t.
Not when I know what I’m doing is right.
No matter what they might think.
---
Log Entry #566
[…]
Humans are remarkably weak. Their minds crumble before the body does.
Even the two Ovates I’ve acquired, they break just as easily.
A disappointment, really. I expected more from them.
They still won’t stop crying. Begging for mercy. Whimpering.
Always the same pitiful noises.
I’ve considered removing their tongues...
But that doesn’t silence them completely. And the blood loss is unpredictable.
Severing the vocal cords might be more effective, but it’s risky. My medical knowledge isn’t precise enough.
When they die, they’re useless.
More cleanup. More cost. And I've already lost too many.
No…not really worth the effort.
A mouth gag will have to suffice. For now.
Also: waste disposal is becoming a problem. I’ve begun storing the remains in the collapsed section of the southern tunnel for now, but it’s unsustainable.
Will need a more permanent solution.
---
Log Entry #572
At last, a clean success.
Today I managed to amputate a subject’s leg without inducing fatal blood loss. It only took three failed attempts.
He’s alive… Barely.
I may have underestimated the precision required by trained physicians. The irony isn’t lost on me.
[…]
---
Log Entry #578
Strange, how quickly it stops feeling like anything.
It happened all at once. Like a switch flipped.
The screaming and struggling doesn’t bother me anymore.
Neither does the smell.
It’s as though something inside me shut down.
My soul feels numb.
I watch their pleading eyes and feel... nothing.
It’s like they’re no longer people to me… Just material. Flesh, bone, a reaction.
Sometimes I wonder if this was the moment I lost the last piece of my humanity.
But if I’m being honest…I think that part of me disappeared long ago.
---
Log Entry #593
I truly don’t understand the fear in their eyes.
They should be grateful—no, honoured even—to be chosen.
To contribute to something greater. To be part of a new foundation in transmutation alchemy.
One day, when the world understands what I’ve achieved, they’ll see this not as cruelty… but as legacy.
[…]
Ah, and as for the remnants… I’ve finally found a solution.
The tissue is too degraded for full procedures, but it’s perfectly viable for reinforcement grafts and foundational strain testing. It may look disgusting at first glance when used on a subject.
But nothing wasted! Everything has a purpose. Eventually.
---
Log Entry #597
[…]
The muffled screams. The sobbing. The pleading.
Once, it was a nuisance.
Now, there’s a strange kind of satisfaction in watching them suffer.
In meeting their eyes and seeing the fear, knowing that I am the one doing this to them.
That I have that kind of power over them.
Complete control.
[…]
Looking back, I can hardly believe how much time I wasted on animals. Decades lost on lower forms—pathetic, limited vessels.
If I had begun sooner…
If I hadn’t wasted so much trying to follow the rules…
It could have been me on the Council. Me beside Haru.
Not Resh’an.
---
Log Entry #621
Rats.
Do they truly believe they can just scurry away the moment I turn my back?
Two subjects remain. The others... had to be punished.
Their bodies didn’t hold up during the transformation trials. Full-body transmutation lasted 132 seconds before catastrophic failure.
Still, a remarkeable improvement over the last attempt. The results retained some structural cohesion, though the outcomes were largely non-viable… large, pulsing masses of tissue.
Even in failure, they serve a purpose.
They should feel honored to be vessels of progress.
But they never do. Not until it’s too late.
---
Log Entry #663
I’ve been thinking about a new direction for my latest project.
No more malformed vessels. No more guessing. This time, I will build something flawless.
For the prototype, I’ve returned to the one specific subject whose structure has always fascinated me.
Haru.
Her feminine form is efficient. Graceful. Balanced. Every ratio tuned by nature toward strength and beauty.
Especially as an Ovate, she was always meant for more. But like so many others, she squandered her potential—distracted by emotion, paralyzed by doubt.
But I can preserve her beauty. Refine it. Perfect it. And her body will serve me as a model.
I’ve begun the preparations to house her within a containment crystal. Alive, yet preserved. Silent.
The new vessel will carry the elegance of her form, but without her weakness. Without her doubts. Without her voice.
Just design.
She will finally be perfect.
And forever beyond Resh'an's reach.
At least one thing he will never have.
---
Log Entry #669
Someone breached the tunnels.
They had the audacity to interfere…to steal my last viable subject.
The fool wouldn’t have lasted much longer, but that’s not the point.
They manipulated my research.
I’m exposed now. If they speak, if they even whisper what they saw—
No. I can’t allow that.
I must find them. Silence them. Erase every trace.
[…]
---
Log Entry #674
They’ve exiled me from Nexalis.
Banished.
For what? For daring to push the boundaries of human potential? For being the only one with the courage to advance our kind?
And Resh’an, standing there with that smug look, actually had the nerve to say: ‘Be glad it didn’t turn out worse. You only received a mild punishment thanks to me.’
My arse.
He’s the one who reported me to the Council. He is the reason I’ve lost everything. He betrayed me.
Traitor.
And of course, those spineless Ovates lap up every word he says, wagging their tails like obedient dogs.
Even Haru. Even Haru raised her voice against me.
She’ll regret that. They all will.
I’m done pretending... The Ovates…they deserve extinction. They are parasites. Arrogant, ignorant and incompetent fools.
They sabotage what they don’t understand, destroy what they fear, condemn what surpasses them.
They called me a monster for seeking truth.
Let them choke on their ignorance.
Let them all die when the time comes.
I will wait for the right moment.
Notes:
Thanks for reading <3
Chapter 18: What Remains
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Present
“Are you sure this is the right place, Resh’an?” Valere asks, scanning the overgrown landscape. The island is wild, untouched by civilization and thick with tangled greenery.
Garl arrives a moment later, slightly out of breath from the uphill climb. He glances around in frustration, squinting past the dense foliage. “There’s nothing here but trees and bushes,” he groans, leaning against a tree trunk. “Are you sure we didn’t take a wrong turn?”
After spending weeks training in Mooncradle, the two Solstice Warriors have finally completed the last shrine. Now, the group stands on the brink of their next journey, leaving the world behind to enter the Sea of Stars and pursue Aephorul’s current domain.
As always, Resh’an had given them only cryptic guidance. That’s what led them here – to a lonely hill on a remote island.
“We’re exactly where we need to be,” Resh’an says calmly. He gestures toward the distant horizon. “Look, over there.”
They all turn to follow his gaze. Another island can be seen just beyond the cliff’s edge, shrouded in mist and mystery.
Serai steps forward, narrowing her eyes as she peers across the gap. “You mean that one? That’s the shrine?”
Resh’an nods, joining her at the edge. “Yes. That’s the shrine we need to reach the Skylands.”
Valere’s brow furrows. “And getting up there… that’s the only way to access the Sea of Stars?”
“That’s correct,” Resh’an replies, his tone as effortlessly composed as ever.
Zale lets out a quiet groan. “Well… we’re screwed. How the hell are we supposed to get over there?” He points to the stretch of sea separating the two islands. “The other one’s too steep to dock at.”
The group looks at the wide gap, their faces falling into thoughtful silence.
Resh’an, clearly amused by their concern, gives a low hum. “Why the long faces? Are you giving up already?” He crosses his arms and tilts his head slightly. “Have you all forgotten we’re traveling with someone who shares a deep connection with the elements? Someone who might just be the answer to your little problem?”
He turns to Haru with a glint in his eye. The others follow his gaze, blinking in confusion as their eyes land on her.
Haru, who has remained quiet up to this point, blinking surprisedly. “Huh? Me?”
“Unless we’ve picked up another Ovate while I wasn’t looking,” Resh’an replies evenly, his tone just dry enough for her to catch the underlying sarcasm.
She sighs and folds her arms as she steps forward. “You could just tell me what to do, Resh’an. We don’t need your dramatic buildup.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” he says in a slight teasing tone.
Despite her efforts, Haru can't help but let out a brief snort. After their talk on the ship, being around him has become easier, lighter, even. But that doesn’t mean his smugness isn’t still thoroughly irritating.
She rolls her eyes with another exaggerated sigh. “Alright, mister Know-It-All,” she mutters in defeat, already scanning the area for a solution.
Resh’an lets out a quiet snort at the nickname but doesn’t comment. He simply watches with amusement as she moves to join Serai and Valere near the edge of the cliff.
Haru stands beside them, surveying the terrain. Her mind races for options. There are no floating stones, no solid ground to build a path, nothing she can manipulate easily. Maybe she can try carrying them across with wind, but the gap is probably too wide. Even with her full strength, the chances of them landing safely on the other side are slim. They’d more likely end up in the water.
She looks down, watching the ocean churn and crash against the rocks below. And then it hits her.
Of course. That’s what Resh’an was hinting at.
Her eyes widen as she turns back toward him. “Oh hell no. That’s not gonna work. I’m still too—”
“Have you tried it?” he cuts in, his head tilting slightly. “Because I haven’t seen any proof either way.”
She groans inwardly. He is definitely in a playful mood today, and it is really testing her patience. She turns away and quietly mimics his tone under her breath.
Zale and Garl catch it and immediately start snickering.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Resh’an asks, clearly hearing her but playing dumb, his voice tinged with amusement.
Haru clenches her jaw and gives him a deadpan look, choosing silence over feeding his ego. She huffs in defeat.
“Well, now that you know what to do,” he says smoothly, “I’ll be waiting for you over there.”
Before she can respond, his form shimmers and shifts into the majestic Great Eagle. With one powerful beat of his wings, he soars into the air, flying straight toward the distant island.
“Wait—hey! Hey!” Haru calls after him, throwing her hands up. “Why don’t you just… take us… with you…”
But he is already too far to hear her.
Serai has watched the whole exchange silently. Without a word, she opens a swirling green portal beside her. “Well, see you over there, I guess,” she says casually with a shrug, stepping through and vanishing in a blink.
Haru stands frozen, dumbfounded as the portal closes behind her. She blinks at the now-empty space, then sighs. Of course, Serai would just portal-hop to the other side without a second thought.
Zale, Valere, and Garl remain beside her, the silence between them growing awkward. Finally, Garl breaks it, offering a hopeful thumbs-up.
“Well… we’re counting on you, Haru. Whatever he wants you to do – You got this!”
She turns to look at him, managing a weak smile before letting her eyes fall to the waves crashing far below. Her stomach twists. This was a lot to ask.
“Here goes nothing,” she murmurs to herself.
She knows she isn’t powerful enough yet to manipulate a mass of water that size with raw control alone. Trying to lift the sea into a solid bridge would be impossible, even dangerous. They’d fall right into the ocean. No question.
But she was a Wind Ovate. And wind does have its uses.
Closing her eyes, she inhales deeply, drawing in the surrounding air. The world around her begins to quiet as she reaches inward, calling on the deep elemental bond. The breeze picks up. First a whisper. Then a low hum. The air curls around her fingertips, tugging at her hair and cloak, waiting to be shaped.
She extends her arms out slowly, directing the flow toward the ocean. From the cliffs to the other island, she draws a sweeping arc through the air, guiding the wind with elegant precision. At her will, two powerful gusts surge out from either side, carving through the sea like invisible blades and forcing the water upward into a wide, rising swell.
The ocean obeys.
Massive sheets of water arch into the air, curving in from both directions like the arms of a wave trying to meet. As they rise higher, Haru narrows her focus, compressing the structure and forcing it to solidify into a narrow, turbulent water corridor.
Still not stable enough.
She exhales sharply, shifting her stance. With one final command, the cold follows and ice begins to form over the surface, crystalizing in an elegant sweep from her feet outward, locking the unstable water into a shimmering bridge of translucent frost.
A walkway of water and wind, frozen into place by sheer force of will.
She staggers a step back once it was done, panting slightly. Her hands tremble from the effort.
“Well,” she mutters, half to herself and half to the group, “that should hold.”
The trio stands in stunned silence, staring at the shimmering bridge of ice and water stretching across the sea.
Zale is gaping. “Okay... that was awesome.”
“Oh, that’s so cool,” Garl blurts out with wide eyes, grinning as he took in the long, glassy path that sparkles under the light like a frozen ribbon.
“Alright, let’s move fast,” Haru says, still catching her breath. “No idea how long this’ll hold.”
She steps onto the path first, testing its stability with cautious steps. It creaks faintly beneath her feet, but holds firm. Relief floods through her.
She turns back and waved them forward. “It’s solid. Come on!”
The others follow quickly and carefully, arms out for balance as they made their way across the slick bridge. Haru leads the group, her focus fixed on the far end of the path where the ground rises again in a canopy of wild green.
As they reach the other island, Resh’an is already there, waiting calmly at the edge of the landing point. His eyes scan the icy bridge behind them, no doubt assessing the technique – and maybe the risks.
Haru narrows her eyes at him. “There. Happy now?” she mutters, clearly still a little miffed that he’d flown off without so much as a warning.
Resh’an steps forward as she reaches the final edge of the path. Without a word, he offers his hand.
She hesitates for only a second, then places her hand in his. Even through the bandages, the touch sends a sudden jolt through her, making her heart skip a beat. She remembers too well the feel of his bare skin beneath her fingertips—the rough, scarred texture of centuries carried in silence. She remembers how he trembled in her arms that night. The way he has clung to her, so broken and desperate, like he was afraid she might vanish.
And now here he was again, steadying her like nothing has changed.
But everything has changed.
“Well, I told you,” Resh’an says, a teasing glint in his eyes as he helps her down from the icy path.
Haru snaps out of her thoughts. She quickly drops his hand once she is safely down and turns away to hide the warmth creeping up her neck, grumbling something unintelligible under her breath.
He only hums in amusement. “Come on, don’t give me that grumpy midget look now. It turned out better than I expected.”
She halts for a moment, her head snapping toward him. That nickname. He hasn’t used it in ages. It stirs something strange and familiar in her. A flicker of the past, echoing from a time when things were easier. When he’d tease her with that exact tone, just to get a rise out of her.
Resh’an meets her gaze, and for a brief second, the amusement in his eyes softens into something warmer. Is that pride? Awe?
“Your analytical thinking has never failed you before,” he says with quiet conviction. “And considering you’ve only recently begun learning water manipulation, your ability to blend it with wind so seamlessly is... impressive.”
His calm and genuine praise catches her off guard. She isn’t used to it, especially not after everything that has happened between them. Most days, she still feels like she is not strong enough, not skilled enough. But hearing this from him... it hits differently.
Her cheeks flush slightly. She keeps her gaze ahead, focused on the looming shrine in the distance, and mutters a small, “Thank you.”
Resh’an glances at her again, silently. He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t press. He simply walks beside her in quiet understanding.
And somehow, that is enough.
They finally reach the shrine.
Before them stands an ancient stone structure—part monument, part sacred site—its pale bricks worn smooth by the passage of time. Glowing blue crystals pulse softly in their mounts, casting a faint, ethereal glow over the steps that lead up to a platform. At its center, a polished slab is embedded into the floor, humming with quiet energy.
Garl walks forward with a wide grin. “I’ll go first.”
Before anyone can stop him, he steps onto the glowing pedestal and vanishes in an instant, dissolving into thin air.
Valere and Zale exchange a quick glance, then follow without hesitation. Serai lingers for a moment, giving a half-nod to Haru before stepping forward and disappearing as well.
Haru makes a move to follow, but a hand on her shoulder halts her. She turns, surprised to find Resh’an standing just behind her. His expression is calm, but there is a hint of caution in his eyes.
“I thought I should warn you,” he says quietly. “The Sky Giants once held great reverence for the Ovates. But... time has changed them. Their faith has grown complicated, strained. Especially in the wake of Aephorul’s betrayal. What he did shattered their trust in both humanity and the old orders.” He pauses, then meets her gaze. “I cannot say how they’ll react when they learn that an Ovate still lives.”
Haru absorbs his words in silence. Then, with a quiet nod, she replies, “Understood.”
They step onto the platform and in a blink, the world shifts.
A soothing breeze greets Haru as they arrive, wrapping around her like a second skin. She closes her eyes for a moment, breathing in the crisp, untamed air. It’s wilder up here, freer. The wind hums as if it were alive.
As she opens her eyes, she sees the others already moving ahead, eyes scanning their surroundings.
They stand at the edge of a vast, floating island suspended high above the clouds. The sky stretches endlessly around them, broken only by the drifting silhouettes of other airborne landmasses, each one veined with spiralling roots of ancient stone.
Along the path, neatly-shaped trees sway in perfect harmony with the wind. Blue crystal fixtures glow softly in stone obelisks lining the trail, and the earth beneath their feet hums with magic, pulsing with the energy that keeps this place aloft. Crystalline formations and rocks marked with spirals frame the landscape that seems carved from the sky itself.
The ground trembles ever so slightly as they pass under the great archways of the Cloud Kingdom. Above them, towering spires of skycrystal and polished stone pierce the heavens. Mist curls around their boots, thin and cool, drifting upward from the cloud sea below the suspended path.
Floating platforms drift slowly through the air, tethered to the land by glowing strands of energy. In the far distance, colossal figures move with calm, silent grace. Sky Giants, their massive forms wrapped in flowing robes and elemental armor. Their blue-grey skin and serene presence lend them an almost divine air.
“Look over there!” Garl exclaims, pointing excitedly at one of the giants wielding a massive hammer. He turns to Zale and Valere, eyes wide with wonder. “This is unreal!” His grin widens as he starts down the path. “Let’s go!”
As they move deeper into the Sky Kingdom, the terrain shifts once more, guiding them toward their destination. The wind quiets as they reach a grand staircase carved from gleaming skycrystal, leading up toward an imposing structure. Anticipation settles in the air like static.
Haru feels her chest tighten slightly. There's weight in this moment. Not just for her, but for all of them.
The group pauses at the foot of the stairs for a breath, then climbs together in silence.
At the top awaits the Cloud Council.
Three colossal Sky Giants sit upon crystalline thrones, each sculpted in radiant hues, mirroring their elemental affinity. Their robes of white and silver ripple gently in the wind, adorned with golden filigree and gleaming jewels. Their eyes, ancient and discerning, fix on the approaching group with a skeptical calm.
As they step onto the ceremonial platform, a deep, resonant voice booms through the chamber.
“Who demands an audience?” asks the middle giant, his tone heavy and commanding.
“Present yourselves,” the female giant on the left demands, her voice sharp, but not without intrigue.
Garl steps forward with a nervous sort of bravado, an enthusiastic glint in his eyes. “We demand an audience!” he declares boldly.
The third giant, a male seated on the right, winces slightly. “We can hear you perfectly well,” he mutters with a sigh, rubbing his ear. “No need to shout.”
“Oh, oops! Hehe…” Garl laughs awkwardly, shrinking slightly under their towering gaze. He throws a glance over his shoulder, silently pleading for backup.
Resh'an steps forward with a confident and imposing presence. He speaks evenly without hesitation. “We have a request.”
The female giant leans forward slightly, arching a silvery brow. “Well, well… The Great Eagle graces us with his presence.” Her tone carries a hint of mockery, but there’s curiosity beneath it. “What brings you before us today?”
Resh’an doesn’t flinch at the mocking edge in the giantess’ voice. His tone remains unshaken. “I’d like to ask you to grant them passage to the Sea of Stars.”
A flicker of surprise passes across the council’s faces. The second giant leans forward. “Before we even consider such a request, do they possess a key?”
“They have successfully reclaimed the Vespertine,” Resh’an replies without hesitation.
The female giant narrows her eyes. “And do they possess the strength?”
“Yes,” he answers. “Luana and Solen have awakened and their journey has reached its next phase.”
A heavy pause follows before she speaks again. “And what is the destination of that journey?”
Resh’an’s gaze lingers on her for a moment before answering. “They seek the Fleshmancer’s current domain.”
The third giant, who had remained silent until now, lets out a low scoff of disbelief. “Unbelievable. These are the same ones who couldn’t even defeat the Dweller of Woe. We’ve heard the stories—how their own people turned on them. How they helped bring the Dweller of Strife back from the grave… and still failed to destroy it.”
“They’re the reason Brisk was nearly reduced to ash,” the female adds sharply, her eyes narrowing further. “Tell us, Great Eagle…why should we trust them? What assurance do we have that they won’t bring more ruin in their wake?” She gestures toward the group, her tone biting. “They just bring chaos wherever they go. And worse, they draw his gaze closer to our realm with every reckless move.”
The weight of the Giants’ accusations settles heavily over the group. A somber silence falls as guilt flickers across the faces of the Solstice Children. They exchange uneasy glances, the sting of truth and failure hanging in the air.
But Resh’an remains unfazed, his voice calm and measured. “I am aware. But the events you speak of were a cascade of misfortunes, many of which lay beyond their control. Despite those setbacks, they still possess the potential to bring salvation to other worlds.”
The three giants lean toward one another, their deep voices too low and jumbled to understand. The hushed discussion reverberates through the air like distant thunder.
Then, the central giant straightens and addresses the group. “Even if you claim to have a plan,” he says firmly, “we cannot allow passage without proof of worth. You ask much, and your history weighs heavily. We require a deed of equal measure, something significant enough to atone for past failings.”
Resh’an’s posture tightens, his expression carefully neutral. But Haru can tell, he is tense. The council is clearly less forgiving than expected, and persuasion alone will not win them over.
She closes her eyes briefly, thinking. What could be enough?
The Dwellers are gone. The Vespertine reclaimed. The Stormcaller defeated. There is nothing left to prove—
No… there is.
Her eyes snap open.
Of course. How could she forget?
There is something. Something that might be enough…if she succeeds.
Without hesitation, Haru steps forward and ascends the pedestal, coming to stand beside Resh’an. Her gaze is steady, her voice clear. “If a deed is what you require to open the way to the Sea of Stars,” she declares, “then I will soothe the Sleeper.”
A ripple of surprise passes through the council.
Resh’an turns to look at her, his composure briefly slipping, just enough for her to catch the faint glimmer of surprise in his eyes.
The female giant scoffs, waving her hand in irritation as she glares down at Haru.
“Soothing the Sleeper? Do you wish to see this world reduced to ashes, you naïve little girl? Only an Ovate would dare—” She cuts herself off mid-sentence. Her eyes lock on Haru, and something shifts in her expression. Confusion gives way to shock. Her voice falters. “You…You really are…”
The word hangs in the air, disbelief etched into every syllable. Slowly, she leans toward the central giant and whispers something low and urgent.
The third leans in, listening, and the middle giant’s eyes grow wide with each passing word. “An Ovate?” he finally says, voice laced with incredulity. “No. That’s impossible. They were wiped out, extinct.”
“But it’s true,” Haru replies, her tone steady and clear. “I survived Aephorul’s massacre. I was sealed away, hidden for a very long time.”
A heavy, charged silence falls over the area. The tension shifts from one of judgement to one of uncertainty.
The third giant speaks next, his voice more contemplative than combative. “Even if what you say is true… how do you intend to soothe the Sleeper, Ovate? The ritual of elements demands mastery over all four. An impossible feat for one alone.”
“I know I cannot perform the ritual in its true form. Not yet,” Haru answers calmly. “But we’ll find another way.”
The Sleeper, a colossal sky serpent coiled around the sacred mountain of Sleeper Island, rests beneath the melody of the wind blowing through tunnels carved into the mountain. It is the only thing keeping his immense power in check. The ancient ritual would allow Haru to control his mind and soothe his corrupted soul. But since she does not possess all the elements — at least not yet — she will have to adapt.
The council still doesn’t look convinced. Their expressions are skeptical, their massive gazes fixed squarely on Haru.
“Which way?” the middle giant asks warily.
Of course, they want details. A concrete plan. Haru glances at Resh’an, searching his face for a hint of support. His thoughtful eyes meet hers. He nods once, slowly, silently telling her he trusts her judgment.
She straightens, turning back to the council.
“As a Wind Ovate, I can manipulate the air inside the mountain’s tunnel systems. If I guide the wind flow and control the air pressure, I might be able to adjust the acoustic pattern that put the Sleeper to rest in the first place.”
The giants murmur among themselves again. Then they lean back into their thrones, the light of their crystal thrones shimmering as the third giant addresses her again.
“If you can prove you are capable of soothing the Sleeper in this way, Ovate,” he says, “we will grant your group access to the Sea of Stars and allow your journey to continue.”
Then his gaze shifts to Resh’an, stern and unwavering. “And you, Great Eagle. You will vouch for them, should anything go wrong.”
Resh’an gives a calm, confident nod. “Naturally.”
Haru exhales slowly, relieved. “Then we have a deal.” Her eyes narrow slightly. “But you better keep your promise.”
The third giant’s lips tighten, clearly unimpressed by the implication. “We always keep our promises, Ovate,” he hisses coldly. “You would do well to focus on the task ahead.”
Resh’an claps his hands lightly, the sharp sound cutting through the air. “Then we are done here. We’ll return once the task is complete.”
The council nods in agreement. The female giant regards Haru one last time. “Godspeed, Ovate. And to your companions. May your trial bring success.”
After leaving the council chamber, the group gathers at the Skyland’s edge.
Haru exhales loudly, rolling her shoulders with an exaggerated sigh. “Well... that was intense.”
Valere is the first to speak. “Awakening and soothing the Sleeper? That’s not exactly a small task.”
Haru clears her throat, her voice laced with nervousness. “Yeah, well… it was the only idea that came to mind in that moment.”
A brief silence follows before Serai finally chimes in. She leans casually against a white stone pillar humming faintly with magic. “What did they mean by the ‘ritual of the elements’? That part wasn’t exactly clear.”
Haru turns to her. “It’s an ancient technique. Basically it is a spell that channels all four elements at once. With it, you can influence the mind or emotions of powerful beings… depending on the user's skill.” She pauses. “But I can’t perform it alone. I’ve only just begun to master my second element.”
Resh’an nods slowly, arms folded. “Indeed. As things stand, invoking the ritual is beyond reach. But your alternative, manipulating the wind tunnels, is a sound strategy.” He glances toward the horizon. “It would be wise to scout Sleeper Island first, examine the tunnels, and assess the conditions ourselves.”
Zale perks up. “And while we’re at it, we should stop by Stonemasons Outpost. Malkomud lives there. He knows those tunnels better than anyone. If anyone can help us, it’s him.”
“Malkomud?” Haru raises an eyebrow, curiosity creeping into her voice. “Let me guess, he’s an earth mage?”
Garl nods enthusiastically. “The best I’ve ever seen!” His grin is wide, and the others nod in agreement. The affection in their expressions makes it clear that Malkomud holds a special place in their hearts.
Rockie, Malkomud’s giant salamander companion, stares intently at Haru with her big, gleaming eyes. There’s a mischievous glint in them, like she’s waiting for Haru to do something. Anything.
Haru stares back, uncertain and a little unnerved. Something about being sized up by a creature that big makes her skin crawl. What does that thing want from her?
“Rockie and I recently serviced the wind tunnels. They should all be clear,” Malkomud declares, brushing some dust from his robe. He glances toward Haru, noting her awkward hesitation. “She wants you to scratch her. Just behind the horns.”
Haru blinks. “Scratch her?”
“She likes it,” the Molekin wizard says matter-of-factly. “Right there behind the horns. Go on,” the mole-like creature insists.
Haru looks back at Rockie, who now leans forward slightly with clear anticipation. The massive creature’s eyes are locked on her, and her tail gives a slow, expectant thump.
“It’s not going to chomp my arm off or anything… right?”
Malkomud shrugs. “Mmm… hard to say.”
Haru lets out a startled yelp. But Rockie’s expression is too hopeful to resist. With a reluctant sigh, she reaches out and gently strokes the spot behind one of the plated horns. Rockie’s skin is cool and rough, like smoothed-over stone, her hide a muted, grayish purple.
The giant salamander immediately closes her eyes and lets out a deep, pleased rumble that resonates through the ground like distant thunder. She leans into Haru’s hand, clearly delighted.
Haru lets out a small, nervous laugh, surprised by how gentle the creature becomes. She keeps stroking, and Rockie pushes in closer, seeking more of her touch.
Smiling softly, Haru allows herself to relax, all while the conversation around her continues.
Valere stands with her arms crossed, gaze fixed thoughtfully on the mountains beyond. “So, the Sleeper remains in a deep slumber thanks to the melody created by the air flowing through the wind tunnels, crafted by your ancestors?”
“That’s why we had to help the Molekins clear them out back then,” Zale adds, nodding. “They were all clogged.”
“Exactly,” Malkomud agrees, giving a small hop for emphasis. “The mountain acts like a giant wind instrument, playing a lullaby to keep the Sleeper in his deep slumber. That melody is the only thing keeping him calm. We Molekins are mostly here to maintain the airflow.”
“So basically,” Zale says, brow raised, “the mountain just plays a lullaby on endless repeat?”
“Precisely,” Resh’an chimes in.
Valere taps her chin, eyes narrowing as her mind works. “Then in theory, if the melody is what keeps him soothed... maybe it doesn’t have to be that exact song. If we had another melody—one strong enough to reach and calm a corrupted soul—maybe that would work too.” She trails off, thoughtful.
Resh’an gives her a sidelong glance, considering her words with his chin resting thoughtfully in his hand. “On this scale, only Songster magic would be strong enough to produce the effects we need to soothe the Sleeper.”
“Songster magic?” Garl asks curiously.
“To put it simply,” Resh’an replies, “it’s a form of magic rooted in music and melody. But far more refined. It influences not just the body and mind, but the soul itself.”
Serai crosses her arms, frowning slightly. “But the melody from the tunnels already works to keep the Sleeper calm, right? Why not just try another soothing tune?”
Resh’an nods. “True. But there’s a difference. Keeping someone in a magical sleep and calming a corrupted soul are entirely separate things. The current melody works because the wind channels are infused with residual magic. It sustains his slumber, but it doesn’t heal the sky serpent from its corruption.”
“So it’s not really the tune, but the magic flowing through the tunnels that matters?” Serai presses.
“Exactly. And that magic is old and passive. It lacks intent. Songster magic, by contrast, is focused. Purposeful. It resonates with the soul, not just the senses.”
Serai tilts her head. “But isn’t that kind of the same thing? It’s still music-based magic.”
“I agree that it’s similar in principle,” Resh’an admits. “But intent is the difference. What we’re hearing now is more like a magical lullaby. Songster magic is a spell, wielded with precision.”
“Then couldn’t we just try to recreate the effects of Songster magic using the wind tunnels?” Garl asks.
“In theory,” Resh’an nods. “If we had a strong enough melody, something designed with the right intent and emotional depth, it might work. But we’ll only know for sure if we try.”
“And what if it doesn’t work?” Malkomud asks warily, casting a glance at the immortal alchemist. “The Sleeper could awaken and then the whole world’s doomed.”
Resh’an hums thoughtfully. “A valid concern, Molekin wizard. But if that moment comes… I will deal with it.”
Malkomud frowns, not quite reassured. “And who exactly are you?”
“Oh, I’m Resh’an. An alchemist,” he replies coolly.
“Yes,” Haru interjects dryly. “Just a simple alchemist.” Her tone carries a teasing edge.
Resh’an lets out a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He casts a brief glare her way before turning back to Malkomud.
The Molekin wizard turns his squinty eyes to Haru next. “And who are you, then?” he asks cautiously.
“Oh, that’s Haru,” Garl chimes in helpfully, flashing a big smile. “She’s, uh… a friend of ours!”
Resh’an adds calmly, “She’s the one who will be manipulating the wind tunnels.”
Malkomud’s eyes widen in surprise. He waddles closer, giving Haru a scrutinizing once-over. “I’ve never heard of a wind mage named Haru powerful enough to manage that. You sure you can pull this off? Doesn’t sound like something an ordinary wind mage could handle. How’s that supposed to work?”
Resh’an snorts quietly, coughing to hide his amusement. Haru rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed with either of them.
“I assure you, my skill won’t be the issue,” Haru replies curtly, her focus still on Rockie as she continues scratching the giant salamander’s head. Only after a moment does she lift her gaze to Malkomud. “I plan to use the wind tunnels to my advantage by manipulating airflow and pressure. I just need to practice aligning the sequence of notes to form the right melody.”
Resh’an hums in agreement beside her. “Before we attempt anything, we’ll need a proper song. Haru and I will return to the Archives and look into Songster magic. I should have old writings, perhaps something on the Sleeper and the construction of the wind tunnels as well.”
Malkomud nods slowly, still eyeing Haru thoughtfully. Then he glances at Rockie, who has clearly grown attached to her. The salamander leans in, eyes half-lidded in bliss.
“Well then… I trust Rockie’s gut,” Malkomud says at last, as if that settles the matter.
Haru’s fingers glide reverently across the spines of ancient tomes as she makes her way through the towering shelves, her eyes wide with awe. She moves slowly, almost as if afraid to disturb the centuries of knowledge resting quietly in this sacred place.
Resh’an walks silently a few steps behind, his gaze fixed on her. He’s watched Solstice Warriors pass through his collection over the centuries when they visited him in his Great Archives, but none with eyes like hers.
She turns to face him suddenly, her voice hushed with wonder. “Resh’an… I… I have no words.” She spins once in place, taking in the towering shelves around her. “This is incredible.”
He blinks, startled by her sincerity. His expression softens. “You… truly think so?” he asks quietly, almost afraid to hope. The admiration in her voice cuts through his usual reserve. He watches her with quiet awe as her eyes sparkle with the same fascination he remembers from long ago. A smile tugs at his lips, hidden beneath the veil, but it reaches his eyes.
They eventually arrive at the section she’s been most eager to see: the Ovate records. Ancient, delicate scrolls and dusty manuscripts line the polished stone walls, remnants of a nearly vanished age.
Her excitement becomes almost childlike as she begins to gather books with an eager, almost frantic energy. Scrolls, tomes, fragments, anything bearing the Ovate mark. She stacks them with care but with growing enthusiasm, the pile soon rising well above her head.
Resh’an watches, a flicker of amusement glinting in his eyes. His fingers twitch at his sides, as though resisting the quiet urge to reach out and steady the leaning tower of books. Or perhaps, to reach for her.
She stretches on her toes, reaching for a thick, dust-covered tome just out of reach on the upper shelf.
“You need help over there?” Resh’an’s voice comes from behind, lighter than usual, almost teasing.
Haru doesn’t look at him. “No, I’m completely fine, thank you very much,” she mutters, eyes still locked on the book she’s stubbornly trying to grab.
He stops just behind her, tilting his head as he taps a finger casually against the edge of the book she’s reaching for. “Just a theory,” he says with mock thoughtfulness, “but I believe you're simply too short to reach it.”
She spins around to face him, gasping in exaggerated offense. Her eyes narrow, but there’s a spark of mischief behind them. “Excuse me?”
Resh’an just raises a brow, clearly amused. He’s almost a head taller, and the smugness in his posture says it all.
But Haru isn’t about to let him win. Without breaking eye contact, she flicks her fingers. A precise gust of wind pushes the book from the shelf and straight into her waiting hands. She grins.
“Look at that,” she says, triumphant. “No ladder, or tall snob, required.”
Resh’an snorts, caught somewhere between impressed and exasperated. “Remarkable,” he says dryly. “You’re quite something, you know that?”
She eyes him over the rim of the book, lips curling into a smirk. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t mean that entirely as a compliment?”
He says nothing, but the faintest glint in his eyes gives him away.
And she can’t help the quiet warmth that rises in her chest. For the first time in so long, things between them feel easy again. And she’s not ready to let that go.
He steps in closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he reads the faded title embossed into the cover. “Elemental Equilibrium,” he murmurs.
Haru swears she can feel the shift in the air just from how close he’s standing. Her breath catches, pulse quickening. The warmth of his presence lingers on her skin even before his sleeve brushes gently against her bare forearm. The soft touch of fabric sends a shiver up her spine.
He doesn’t seem to notice. “That one’s rare. I don’t even remember where I found it,” he adds thoughtfully, his voice lower now, distant in memory. Without a second glance, he takes the book from her hands and turns to add it to her growing collection, completely unaware of the small storm he’s just stirred inside her.
She exhales slowly, grateful for the break in tension.
Then, with a graceful sweep of her hand, the entire tower of books levitates. A controlled current of wind lifts the pile from beneath, cradling the volumes mid-air with precise gusts that spiral upward in steady motion. It floats like it weighs nothing, gliding ahead of them with practiced ease.
They walk in silence toward the main hall of the Archives, the floating book stack gently trailing in front of them. When they reach his desk, she guides it down with a flick of her wrist, letting it settle neatly onto the floor beside his workspace.
She glances around and blinks. Books lie scattered across the floor. Scrolls spill out of open drawers, aged artifacts are propped against furniture at odd angles. Dust lingers on ledges that probably haven’t been touched in years.
“You’re still so messy,” she mutters, amused.
She picks up one of the artifacts lying haphazardly nearby, examining the intricate etchings carved into its surface. Then, without ceremony, she plops down into his oversized wooden chair, her small frame swallowed by it. She leans back, swinging her legs playfully like a child, turning the artifact over in her hands with quiet curiosity.
Resh’an watches her collapse into his chair, still holding that strange artifact like it were some kind of trophy. Clicking his tongue in mock disapproval, he steps closer. “You’re no better, if I may remind you of the state of your ship’s cabin.”
Haru peeks over the backrest with a slight frown, clearly offended. “I did tidy it up afterward!” she almost whines, a tiny pout forming as she places the artifact carefully on his desk and grabs the first book from the pile, flipping it open with stubborn focus.
Resh’an raises a brow, stepping around the desk to glance at her face. He gasps theatrically. “Are you actually pouting and whining like a small child right now?”
Her frown deepens at the word child. She hated when he called her that.
“I’m not a child,” she mutters, visibly grumpy, eyes glued to the page.
There’s a pause.
“Ah, but you’re definitely acting like one,” he says smoothly. Then, after a beat, adds with a grin in his voice, “Besides… you just admitted you’re small.”
He snaps his fingers lazily, conjuring another chair beside her. It appears with a soft shimmer of alchemic light. He sits with practiced elegance, legs crossed, clearly pleased with himself.
She groans in frustration, flopping her head back against the chair. “Why did I even say anything…”
Of course he would take that bait. He always did. He hasn’t changed a bit, still the same smug, infuriating man. She rolls her eyes, slams the book shut with a loud thud, and grabs the next one with more force than necessary, slapping it open onto the desk beside her.
Resh’an leans slightly over to peek at the title.
“You know,” he says mildly, “for someone so easily flustered, you’re surprisingly productive.”
“Keep talking and you’ll wear that book as a hat,” she warns without looking up.
He chuckles under his breath and turns to his own research.
The book Haru is skimming through turns out to be a detailed record of the Molekins and the Wind Tunnel Mines on Sleeper Island. It outlines the structure and positioning of the ancient wind channels with surprising precision. She flips through the pages, eyebrows raised in interest—this could definitely come in handy. Still, before anything else, they needed to find a fitting and powerful melody. She sets the book aside onto the “important” pile.
Next to her, Resh’an is already buried in a tome that focuses explicitly on Songster magic. Though the art itself has long faded from common practice, it’s clear from the content that the enchanted wind tunnels might be used to mimic its effects. All they needed now was the right song.
Haru casts him a sideways glance, her voice soft. “You’re helping a lot, considering your hands are technically tied.”
He doesn’t look up from his page. “As long as it’s not directly tied to a Dweller, or anything Aephorul left his taint on, I don’t see a problem.”
She hums in acknowledgment, then leans over slightly, eyes scanning his book. “What’s that?” she murmurs, pointing to a passage.
He glances her way. “What do you mean?”
“That part,” she clarifies, leaning a bit closer. Her hand extends toward the page, fingertip hovering over a line of ornate script. At the same moment, Resh’an moves as well, his fingers brushing against hers.
A sharp, electric jolt pulses through her skin at the contact. Her breath catches.
Resh’an freezes. The moment lingers a second too long before he quickly retracts his hand.
“Apologies,” he says quietly, his voice unusually subdued. “I didn’t mean to—”
He trails off, clearing his throat as he straightens in his chair, suddenly far too composed. The air between them still hums faintly, charged with something unspoken.
Haru says nothing, pretending to examine the page again while her pulse slowly calms.
She shakes her head, eyes fixed on the text in his book, a faint flush warming her cheeks. “N-No. It’s alright. I was just... surprised,” she mumbles, trying to play it off. But her voice wavers ever so slightly, and she can’t ignore how aware she is of him sitting so close beside her. She continues to pretend to examine the page while her pulse slowly calms.
But his presence feels tangible now and maddeningly distracting.
She clears her throat and pretends to refocus on her own book, but the words blur. Her thoughts race, her skin still tingling from that brief brush of his hand. She feels ridiculous. Back on the ship, she’d held him, touched him, comforted him in his rawest moment. So why does this—a mere accidental touch—feel more intimate?
Her fingers twitch against the page. Denial coils in her chest like a lifeline she’s desperately clinging to. It’s just touch starvation, she tells herself. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just been a while since—
But even she doesn’t believe it.
Before she can stop herself, her hand moves, almost on instinct. She reaches out and lightly brushes his bandaged forearm. She feels him go still under her touch, as if startled, but he doesn’t pull away.
Encouraged by the silence, she lets her hand trail further, down to the edge of his palm, her fingertips tracing the lines of his hand with delicate care.
His breath hitches.
“Haru…” he breathes her name, quiet and full of unspoken emotion.
Then, with hesitant resolve, he turns his hand and reaches for hers. His fingers brush across her palm and fingers, feather-light, the rough texture of his bandages dragging goosebumps across her skin.
Her pulse thunders in her ears. She swears he must hear it, feel it, the way her heart hammers against her ribs like it’s trying to escape. And yet she doesn’t move away.
Neither does he.
“Is… this okay?” he asks softly, his voice low and uncertain, eyes fixed on their hands as if afraid the moment might vanish if he looks too closely at her.
Haru exhales steady and deliberate, her heart thundering in her chest. She nods. Then, a little bolder, her fingers shift to intertwine with his. “This is okay,” she whispers, her voice thick with all the things she doesn’t dare say aloud.
Resh’an stills. The surprise in his expression is unmistakable as he feels the gentle weight of her small hand in his, her thumb brushing slow circles across the bandages that shield his skin. He blinks, eyes flickering with a rush of emotions he hadn’t prepared for, emotions he thought he’d long buried.
For centuries, he had known only solitude. Pain. Duty. Silence. But this. This small, human touch was unraveling the quiet fortress he'd built around himself. He doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t speak for a long moment.
“You have no idea when the last time was… that someone touched me like this,” he finally murmurs, his voice hushed and fragile. It wavers at the edges, trembling with a grief he no longer knows how to hide.
Haru’s grip tightens, gentle but firm. “Too long,” she says, her voice barely audible. The words feel too small for what she wants to say, but they’re all she can offer without breaking.
He repeats her words under his breath like a prayer, quieter, more heartfelt. “Way too long…” His voice breaks slightly, thick with ache and something dangerously close to hope. His fingers squeeze hers in return, warm and grounding.
She turns her head and looks at him, really looks at him. There, between the lines of weariness and centuries of pain, she sees it: Vulnerability. Longing. A flicker of something more.
He looks at her, his expression stripped bare again, his walls down and his defenses gone. His eyes search her face, scanning for any flicker of revulsion or hesitation. But there is none.
“I don’t understand…” he whispers, voice heavy with pain. “That you still want to touch me like this… that you haven’t given up on me. Even though I’m nothing more than a pathetic shell of what I used to be.”
The words make her heart ache. She frowns, lips parting to speak, but he cuts her off gently, his voice trembles slightly. “I don’t deserve this, Haru. I don’t deserve you.” His gaze drops, shadowed by self-loathing. “You shouldn’t waste your time on someone this broken and corrupted. Someone like me.”
Even with his veil hiding most of his face, his eyes speak volumes, centuries of loneliness, guilt, and fear brimming behind them. She sees how hard it is for him to let her in. How terrified he is that she’ll leave if she sees too much. And it really breaks her heart.
His hand twitches, starting to pull away. But she tightens her grip. She can't give up on him.
“You deserve this,” Haru reassures, her voice is low but firm as she tries desperately to convince him. “You deserve to be seen and cared for. And I won't stop telling you until you finally understand.”
He stills and she holds on tighter, her palm wrapped around his with quiet conviction. She can’t let go. Not when she has him here like this, real and trembling in her hands.
“I’m not wasting my time, Resh’an,” she adds gently. “Not with you.”
He sighs, his voice is rough with emotion. “Not after the way I betrayed you…” His gaze drops, bitterness cutting through every word.
Gods, this man is impossible sometimes.
“Resh’an…” Haru murmurs, her expression softening. “Aephorul was too cunning… too skilled at manipulation.” Her eyes drop to their still-intertwined hands. Her thumb glides gently over the bandages covering his skin. “He preyed on our doubts. Twisted our fears into weapons and used our weaknesses against us.”
A humourless chuckle escapes him. “He certainly did.” He withdraws his hand, and this time, she lets him. The loss of contact stings more than she expects. A dull ache settles in her chest as she watches him run a tired hand down his face.
Then he looks up at her again. And the intensity in his gaze roots her to the spot. There is no veil behind his eyes now. Only raw, unfiltered emotion.
“He knew exactly how to break me,” he says softly, each word weighed with deep meaning. “…by using my greatest weakness against me.”
Her breath catches.
That look. That storm of feelings and the hesitation in his eyes, like a part of him still wants to hide. That quiet devastation and trembling in his voice.
He’s talking about her.
Haru’s freezes for a moment. Her heart lurches. The truth presses against her chest, sharp and sudden. “Resh’an, I…” Her voice falters. The words won’t come.
She had always believed he never felt the same, convinced herself that she’d misread everything. That he never wanted her, that he had chosen Mina. That what she felt for him was one-sided, a crush left behind in another life.
But now… hearing this… seeing the way he looks at her, as if nothing else ever mattered. It feels unbearable. Suffocating.
“I should’ve said something,” she whispers. “I should’ve been brave enough. But I was afraid… I thought I’d lose you for good.”
He shakes his head slowly, deliberately. His expression grows still, solemn. “Never. I would never have turned my back on you for something like that,” he says, his voice firm but laced with softness. “You know that, don’t you?”
She nods her head slowly. Her eyes are stinging. His words strike a place in her that had long been starved of warmth.
Of course, he wouldn’t have.
Of course, she should have known.
His voice settles into her bones like a balm. Soothing, healing, but bittersweet. Because this truth, as beautiful as it is, comes wrapped in what-ifs and too-lates. What could have been, had they both dared to speak sooner.
His attention drifts back to the book in front of him. “But we cannot change the past,” he says quietly. There’s a note of finality in his tone. Resigned, distant. He turns a page as if that could turn the page on the moment they just shared.
Haru watches him retreat behind the familiar stoicism, the invisible wall rising again between them, carefully and deliberately. It stings. After everything they'd just laid bare, it was like watching a door close in slow motion. A part of her wants to reach out again, to stop him. But what could she even say?
“You’re right…” she murmurs, turning back to her own book. She tries to focus on the text, but the words blur together. It’s hard to ground herself after the confession, after the brief flicker of vulnerability that had felt so real… so close.
She steals quiet glances at him, at the calm mask on his face, the steady rhythm of his fingers flipping pages, the silence that stretches wider between them with every second. He’s right there, and yet, he feels so far away again. Like nothing ever happened. Like he hadn’t just admitted his feelings for her.
And maybe that’s why it hurts the most.
Of course, he’d draw back, keeping distance was his way of protecting others and himself from getting hurt again. And perhaps she’d been foolish to believe that after so many centuries, things could go back to what they once were. And more.
But her feelings… they never changed. Not really. They were buried, yes, buried deep beneath pain, time and silence, but never gone. And now that they’ve surfaced, she doesn’t know how to tuck them away again.
Still, she can’t expect anything from him. Not now. Not after everything.
So, they sit side by side, quietly turning pages in books that suddenly feel far easier to understand than the distance growing between them. Because this—this mission, this task—has to be the focus now.
Not the ache in her chest. Not the what-ifs. Not the love that came too late. Just the work. Just the now. Because that's all they have left.
But in the end, one thing became painfully clear tonight.
They were each other’s greatest fear and deepest longing. And even though the truth finally came to light, it changed nothing. Because not all confessions lead to closeness.
Sometimes, they only make the distance clearer.
Notes:
Thank you for reading <3
Chapter 19: Corruption
Chapter Text
Millennia ago, when Aephorul's plan took root…
Resh’an hummed a soft, melodic tune as he sat in his study, sorting through a scattered pile of transcripts from his students. The late afternoon light filtered through the high windows, warm and quiet. He was in a good mood today.
Only two days remained until the Festival of Lights. Two days until he would go together with Haru.
The thought alone made his lips curl into a quiet smile. He had never been fond of festivals—too loud, too crowded. But the idea of going with her made him forget just how much he usually disliked occasions like these.
“Gods,” a familiar voice cut in, dry and amused, “you look like a lovesick puppy again. What is it this time?”
Resh’an’s smile vanished. He exhales sharply and glanced toward the door with thinly veiled annoyance. Aephorul was leaning against the frame, arms crossed, a smug smile tugging at his lips.
“Are you being delusional again?” his best friend added casually.
That bastard.
“What do you want, Aephorul?” Resh’an asked, his was tone tight. The lightness of the moment was gone, replaced by the usual irritation that came whenever Aephorul started poking at things he shouldn’t. “I hope you didn’t come all this way just to piss me off.”
Aephorul chuckled and stepped inside, brushing the edge of the doorway with his shoulder. “Actually, I came to see my dear friend after freezing my arse off in the north for months. You’re welcome.”
Resh’an leaned back in his chair with a sigh, folding his arms loosely across his chest. “I thought you wouldn’t return before fall.”
“The investigations wrapped up early,” Aephorul replied with a shrug. “No reason to stay in that frozen hellhole longer than necessary.”
Resh’an gave a small, noncommittal hum. “Still. Good to see you again.” He turned back to the papers in front of him, though the calm from earlier had already slipped through his fingers.
Aephorul eyed him with quiet intrigue, then stepped closer, the soft rustle of his coat filling the brief lull. “What is it this time?” he asked, leaning against the edge of the desk, casually scanning the pages strewn across it.
“Some protocols from my students,” Resh’an muttered, eyes fixed on the same line of text he had reread three times now.
Aephorul gave a dismissive roll of his eyes. “I don’t mean the work.”
“The Festival of Lights is in two days.” Resh’an didn’t look up but he could feel Aephorul’s piercing gaze on him. It only fueled his irritation. “What?” he asked flatly, the edge in his voice unmistakable.
“And since when do you go to such occasions?” Aephorul prodded. “You usually barricade yourself in the library like a grumpy old hermit.”
Resh’an clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Haru’s accompanying me,” he grumbled.
“Ahhh. So that’s what it’s about,” Aephorul said, lips curling into a smirk. “You two going on a little romantic outing? Holding hands under the lanterns, sharing candied fruit—”
Resh’an let out a low groan. “No. We're just going as friends. As you very well know.”
Aephorul chuckled, entirely unbothered. “Friends. Right.”
He leaned a little closer, his voice lowering slightly, not mocking anymore, but smooth and careful. Calculated. “Resh’an… you know she doesn’t love you, right?”
The words hit like a quiet blow. Resh’an stiffened and his gaze fixed on the pages in front of him as if they might offer a way out.
Aephorul stepped lightly around the desk, as if circling something fragile. “I mean, come on,” he continued, his voice softer now. “You’ve been circling her for how long? Years? Decades? And has she ever looked at you the way you look at her?”
Resh’an’s fingers curled slightly against the edge of the desk and he turned slightly in his chair, as if trying to shield himself from the words.
“But you never let yourself see it, do you?” Aephorul went on. “You keep hoping. Waiting. And all the while, there’s someone else who already sees you.” He stopped just beside him now, voice a low murmur. “Like Mina.”
Resh’an’s jaw tensed. He didn’t want to hear this. But Aephorul continued.
“She lights up when you enter the room, laughs at your driest jokes. She’s clearly into you. You just don’t notice because you’re too busy chasing something that’s never going to happen”
“Aephorul—” Resh’an started, but his friend cut him off.
“I’m not saying Haru’s doing it on purpose,” Aephorul interrupted, just a touch of false empathy in his voice. “She probably doesn’t even realize it. But she’s not choosing you. And you…” He paused, his voice softening again. “You deserve better than that.”
Silence settled between them for a moment. Then, Aephorul's voice dropped to a gentle and intimate tone.
“I want you to be happy, alright?” he mumbled softly. “You’ve given her so much. And she’s never truly seen it… not in the way you wanted her to. You can’t keep waiting for something that was never going to come.”
Resh’an’s expression darkened, sorrow threading through his features like smoke. He stood up slowly, almost absently, his gaze drifting toward the mirror across the room. He stared at his own reflection for a long moment. His eyes were hollow, his shoulders tense.
“Maybe you’re right,” he murmured.
Aephorul didn’t answer right away. He watched his friend’s reflection with quiet satisfaction, stepping closer now that the crack has formed.
“She’s never going to see you the way you see her,” he said softly, voice smooth and persuasive. “That’s not on you. You’ve always been there. You’ve been everything. But she doesn’t see it. She doesn’t see you as more than just a friend.”
Just a friend…
Resh’an’s jaw clenched, but he still said nothing.
“And meanwhile,” Aephorul continued, letting the words glide like silk, “there’s someone who does. Mina. She sees you, Resh’an. She doesn’t just take you for granted. She looks at you like you matter.” He allowed a faint smirk. “She’s really into you. Has been for a while.”
Resh’an let out a breath, barely audible. “That’s just because I helped her with her thesis.”
“Please.” Aephorul scoffed with amusement. “You helped Haru with a dozen things more, and what did that get you? The friendzone.” He retorted with a dry chuckle.
Resh’an flinched at the last word.
Aephorul leaned in slightly, voice lowering again, a bit colder now. “You think she doesn’t know you’re in love with her?”
Resh’an tensed up visibly but didn’t answer.
“I’m sure she does. And she keeps you around because it’s comfortable. Convenient. You’re safe and loyal. Predictable.” He straightened, his expression sharpening. “But she’ll never choose you, Resh’an. She just keeps you as a friend and holds you close because you do everything for her. She’s using you”
The words echoed in the stillness. Resh’an remained quiet, but something had shifted behind his eyes.
Finally, he let out a long, weary exhale. “You think I’m a fool.”
“No,” Aephorul said, reaching out to rest a hand on his shoulder. His voice softened, almost sincere. “I think you’re in love with someone who doesn’t deserve you. And I hate watching you waste your heart on her.”
Resh’an looked at the mirror one last time, as if searching for something in his reflection. But whatever it was, it wasn’t there. He turned away.
“I’ll think about it,” he said quietly.
Aephorul smiled, just a touch too satisfied.
“That’s all I ask.”
The streets were already aglow with lanterns, their warm light swaying gently in the breeze. Laughter echoed faintly from the heart of the city. Somewhere out there, in the middle of it all, Haru was waiting. Maybe still looking for him. Maybe not.
Resh’an stood motionless in front of a modest wooden door, his hand hovering just above it. He had been standing there for several minutes.
This wasn’t where he was meant to be tonight. He hadn’t even sent word or left a note for her. He just stood her up and he hated himself for it.
But still… he was here. Choosing someone else over her for the first time. He couldn't shake off the thought that perhaps Aephorul was right. That this longing he felt for her was foolish. Maybe it was time to stop hoping.
His fingers finally closed into a fist, knuckles tapping the wood once, then twice.
A pause. Then the door creaked open.
Mina blinked in surprise, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of him. She was dressed simply, not expecting company – and certainly not him.
“Resh’an…?”
He didn’t answer. His gaze was unreadable, the shadows from the lanternlight dancing across his face. For a brief moment, something flickered behind his eyes – doubt, guilt, something heavier than he was ready to name.
But he stepped forward anyway. Without a word, Mina moved aside and let him in, closing the door behind him.
Present
The winds are crisp that morning.
The group has returned to the Stonemasons Outpost, perched high on the edge of Sleeper Island’s highest hill. From here, the mountain slopes downward in a series of jagged terraces, each one pocked with carved tunnels and wind-swept openings. The Sleeper coils around the mountain below, sound asleep. For now.
Resh’an stands at the edge, watching the horizon with his usual unreadable expression. Haru lingers a few paces behind him, double-checking the small notepad where she has scribbled the melody sequence, just to be sure. She has already memorized it, but it never hurts to be thoroughly when dealing with giant, ancient sky serpents.
Malkomud waddles into view from one of the lower caverns, brushing dust off his robe. Rockie trots after him, his tail swaying like a pendulum. “All additional holes are ready,” he announces matter-of-factly “Even cleared some of the old debris. Airflow’s gonna be crisp like a bell chime.”
“That’s... encouraging,” Haru mutters, her eyes flicking down the mountain with cautious scepticism. She can already feel how the wind casts through the newly carved vents, weaving into the main currents that are already flowing through the deeper parts of the mountain. New, resonant tones begin to vibrate gently through the air.
Garl walks up to them. He pulls out a crumpled checklist and squints at it. “Alright. Let’s run through this.” He licks his thumb and flipped the top corner. “Wind tunnels clear?”
“Check,” Malkomud answers without hesitation. Rockie adds a low, approving rumble.
“Melody sequence prepared?” Garl glances toward Haru.
She lifts the notepad with a confident flick. “Check.”
“Emergency escape measures?”
Resh’an, still facing the cliffs, answers evenly. “Plan B and C are prepared.”
Garl gives a quick thumbs-up. “Great. And you’re already on standby, I assume…”
“On call,” Resh’an replies flatly.
Garl gives a satisfied nod, folding the list with a dramatic flourish like he’s just finished negotiating a trade deal. “Perfect! We’re all set.”
Resh’an nods once, his eyes scanning the sky. “The air is moving. That’s a good sign. For now… everything is clear.”
Haru exhales slowly, her fingers tightening around the notepad. Her hands tremble just slightly, but she doesn’t bother to hide it. The real challenge is about to begin. And this time, she’s facing it alone.
Sort of.
Resh’an turns to look at her. His expression is as unreadable as ever, but the way his gaze lingers says enough. She meets his eyes with a subtle nod. The memory of their confession in the Archives still hangs unspoken between them, fragile and unresolved, but now isn’t the time to dwell on it.
At the edge of the outpost, the ancient platform waits. Weathered by time, the moss clings to its cracks. Haru steps onto it without a word. The quiet hum of dormant magic vibrates beneath the stone.
The others remain behind, lined along the ledge in tense silence. Resh’an stands at the front, his arms folded behind his back. His eyes track her every movement. He says nothing, but the weight of his gaze never leaves her.
Malkomud waddles over to the main control lever, his expression unusually solemn. He raises one hand theatrically above the mechanism. “Good luck,” he says, “Please don’t kill us all.”
He yanks the lever.
The others nod or offer quiet gestures of encouragement, like a thumbs up from Garl or a small, reassuring smile from Valere.
The mechanism shudders beneath her feet. With a deep, echoing sound, the platform begins to descend. Wind rushes past her, catching her haori and tugging at her hair as the mountain falls away. Stone ridges and carved terraces blur behind her, the cliffs receding into mist and sky as she descends toward the valley.
There he is. The Sleeper.
His colossal body coils around the base of the mountain, scales glinting dully in the fractured light. Even unconscious, his presence is immense, overwhelming.
The platform halts with a final hum. Haru now hovers just in front of the Sky Serpent’s enormous face. His breathing is slow and thunderous, each exhale sending ripples through the treetops below.
Haru’s heart pounds in her chest. Her fingers twitch around the notepad still clutched in her hand. She doesn’t need it anymore. The melody is burned into her memory. She closes her eyes and inhales slowly. The air shifts around her eagerly, waiting expectantly for her command. She raises her arm. At once, the first current obeys her, rushing into one of the mountain’s upper vents with precision. A low, resonant tone vibrates through the whole area.
She shifts the wind again. Another tunnel. Another note.
Then another. And another. And the mountain begins to sing the song.
The wind wraps around her like a firm, steady embrace as she manipulates its very essence. The tones build, one atop the next, delicate and powerful, forming a melody that was older than the mountain itself. It reverberates through the whole area. For a moment, the world is still, listening to the soothing lullaby.
And then, the Sleeper finally stirs.
His massive coils shift, crimson scales rasping against stone. A deep, thunderous rumble builds in his throat and his eyes flutter open slowly as if surfacing from a long and tangled dream. For one long second, Haru meets his gaze.
His colossal blue eyes lock onto her. They are filled with a complex mix of weariness and confusion. And beneath it all… pain. His large head lifts slightly, following the threads of melody drifting from the mountain. His body gradually uncoils, causing stone and earth to groan under the immense weight of him.
Haru keeps the melody going. Steady and calm. Wind pulses through the mountain in rhythm with her breath. The tones stay true and the music is working. She can feel it in the way his gaze softens and his body follows the rhythm.
It’s working.
But then something flickers in the Sleeper’s gaze. She feels it and her breath hitches. That sudden, fragile shift, like the moment is teetering on the edge of a blade. She quickly adjusts the wind, altering the pitch ever so slightly to soften it into something gentler, coaxing.
“Come on,” she murmurs under her breath, voice barely audible. “Just a little further.”
The Serpent inhales, his massive chest expands. And for one breathless moment, his eyes soften.
Haru sighs in relief. Her hands remain steady as she continues to bend the air to her will. The melody surrounds her now, wrapping around her limbs like a soothing blanket. She lets herself sink into it – just a little – to ease the tension from her shoulders.
But then, it seems like something inside of the serpent snaps. The corruption stirs, but it isn’t visible, not yet. It starts as a subtle and deep tremor that surges through the Sleeper’s body. His pupils narrow into slits, and a guttural snarl tears from his throat, ripping through the valley like thunder.
The corruption spreads beneath his skin like a sickness that awakened after being buried for too long. The air vibrates, creating a dissonance in the melody. She feels the weight of it, the chaos, the madness laced with agony.
Shit.
The song had reached too far. It touched something broken inside him and that something is fighting back.
A violent growl rolls out of his chest. The stone platform beneath her feet begins to shake and the cliffs shudder as loose rocks tumble down the slopes. But Haru doesn’t move. With her arms lifted, she maintains her firm stance, allowing let the wind to flow through the mountain’s holes.
“Stay with me,” she whispers as she adjusts the melody once more.
But it’s not enough. The Sleeper lets out a monstrous cry and snaps forward without warning. His massive head crashes against the cliffside, right where she stands. Haru doesn’t even have time to react as her body hits the stone wall with brutal force. Her head whips back against the hard surface and then everything goes dark.
The wind stutters slightly, making the melody falter as she falls down unconsciously.
The moment Haru vanishes from sight, Resh’an is already in motion.
There is no hesitation, no calculation. Only instinct. His body dissolves in a shimmer of golden light and feathers as he transforms into the Great Eagle mid-air. His vast wings cut through the sky like blades and the wind rushes past him as he dives, eyes scanning the drop below with focused precision. He finds her in seconds. Her small body tumbles limply through the air.
She’s not moving.
His chest tightens as raw panic spreads through his body, a sharp and unfamiliar emotion he had buried deep inside of him millennia ago. He angles his wings and speeds downward, ignoring the ache building in his muscles from the sudden shift in altitude. The cliffside races past in a blur. Time feels stretched and collapsing all at once.
With one swift, controlled beat of his wings, he slips beneath her falling form and catches her mid-fall, the force of it jarring through his bones. He banks hard to the right, searching for a place to land.
He spots a narrow ledge of moss-covered stone jutting from the cliffside, barely wide enough. He lands roughly, talons scraping against the surface before shifting back to his human form. He collapses to his knees and cradles her in his arms, her body terrifyingly still.
“Haru,” he breathes, voice raw.
She’s pale and her breathing is shallow. His jaw clenches at the sight of her. He brushes her hair from her face with trembling fingers, his touch gentle and hesitant. He spots the blood trailing down her neck in a slow crimson line. He shifts his hand to the back of her head, fingertips finding the wound where she struck the rock. Slowly, he pulls his hand away and stares at the red smeared across his palm. His heart stutters at the sight of it.
“Oh fuck…” he breathes.
He lowers her onto the ground as if she might break apart under his touch. His hands work fast, almost clumsy, as he pulls the Vial of Time from his robes and snaps the hourglass clean in two. He summons the ingredients, blending them together with practiced swiftness. He swings the bottom half, the blue liquid inside swirling and shifting into a shimmering red.
Cradling her back in his arms, he tilts her head just enough to pour the potion past her lips, watching the thick, potent liquid slide down her throat. This should work. This always works.
But nothing happens.
His frown deepens. “What’s going on? It should’ve taken effect by now…” His voice is barely above a whisper. His potions always work, especially this one.
Panic coils in his gut. He presses his palm over her ribs, the familiar warmth of healing magic flooding beneath his skin. It hums against her limp frame, spreading through her like a lifeline. His eyes move over her body, taking in every injury, every bruise.
Still nothing. No change. No spark of recovery.
“Why does it not work, goddammit?” His voice cracks, raw frustration bleeding through.
Then, suddenly, he notices something dark under her collarbone. He tugs her shirt aside and freezes. Purple veins pulse beneath her skin, spiderwebbing out from her chest, curling up toward her neck and spilling across her shoulders and arms.
His healing magic falters instantly. The realization hits like ice water. She’s not just injured. She’s tainted by the Sleeper’s corruption.
Something ugly stirs deep inside him, a sharp, gut-wrenching fear he’s kept buried for centuries. He tries again, forcing more magic into her, desperation making his hands shake harder. But the corruption rejects it completely.
His gaze flicks up toward the Sleeper that coils and thrashes in a frenzy, his massive body raking across the mountainside with fury. Each strike tears into stone and sends tremors through the cliffs. The terraces shudder and collapse, throwing cascades of rock into the valley below. Dust clouds rise in every direction, turning the world into a blur of grey and making it even more difficult to see clear through this chaos.
And then, the Sleeper’s burning gaze locks onto him.
Shit.
He moves on instinct.
With Haru still in his arms, Resh’an leaps from the ledge just as the serpent’s massive head crashes into the mountainside behind him. The impact erupts in a rain of pebbles and shattered stone. He twists mid-air, shielding her as the world shudders around them.
They land hard beneath another ledge, just in time to avoid the next barrage of falling debris. The dust stings in his eyes. He looks down at her pale face, at the blood still seeping from her hairline. She’s barely breathing. And for a moment, fear nearly swallows him whole.
“Calm down,” he mutters through clenched teeth, dragging in a breath that burns in his chest. He tries to steady his hands. But his mind is racing, his composure slipping by the second. He thought he was ready for this. He thought he had prepared himself for this exact outcome.
But he was so wrong.
He made a promise to the Council, to the others and most of all to himself. That if things went wrong, he would act. He is the safeguard. He is the failsafe. And now, the Sleeper is out of control.
He looks up at the Sleeper. Plan B was the most direct option: Neutralize the threat by putting the serpent back to sleep. It would restore the balance of this world, at least temporarily.
But it would also mean one thing: The Council would never grant passage to the Solstice Warriors and the Sea of Stars would remain out of reach for them.
Then, his gaze drops back to Haru. Even if he were to stop the Sleeper now, he could never leave her here. Not like this. Not in her condition.
Never.
His jaw locks tight as he drags in a sharp breath, forcing himself to focus. He quickly mixes a potent antidote, hoping it will counter the corruption. He carefully tips the potion to her lips, praying it will take hold.
Meanwhile, the wind hasn’t stopped. Somehow, even though it is fragile and trembling, the melody still carries through the carved tunnels, threading through stone and air like a distant lullaby clinging to its purpose. But it wasn't loud enough.
Above them, the Sleeper thrashes again, his massive body battering the cliffs with terrifying force. Another quake follows.
A crack.
Resh’an’s eyes dart upward. The ledge above them, the one shielding them from debris, slowly begins to give way.
“Oh, goddammit!” he hisses and in that moment the Sleeper slams his coils against the mountainside again and the ledge breaks. Resh’an instantly transforms back to his eagle form. His claws close around Haru’s limp body, wings pumping hard as the rock crashes down where they were just moments ago.
Dust erupts in every direction, choking the sky in thick, blinding clouds. He rises into it, wings cutting sharp through the turbulence. But somehow, the Sleeper spots him immediately and lunges. Resh’an swerves violently, wings jerking in a desperate arc. Haru’s body jolts in his talons. His heart lurches.
Fuck.
He can’t fly and dodge like this. Not with her weight and the storm of dust obscuring everything. He dives into the thickest cloud he can find, vanishing from the Sleeper’s sight as he flies higher. He spots a ridge and places her carefully on the ground before shifting back.
They don’t have much time. Maybe a few seconds before the Sleeper finds them.
He looks down at her and realises that the antidote hasn't worked at all.
He no longer has a choice. Haru was immune to healing, and she wouldn’t last much longer. It has to be Plan C. He quickly reaches into one of the inner pockets of his robe to pull out the time anchor, checking the inside twice.
Nothing.
A flicker of unease flashes across his face. He checks the other side. Still nothing. His movements grow more erratic as he tears through every pocket, every fold of fabric. Nothing.
The time anchor is gone.
He spins toward the mountain’s edge, eyes scanning the slopes below. And then it hits him. He must have lost it during the chaos. The anchor… it’s down there somewhere, lost in the storm of stone and dust, right in the heart of the Sleeper’s rampage. The panic inside him swells.
“Fuck!” he bites out, the word slicing through the air like a blade.
He should go. He should dive straight down and end this before the Sleeper’s rage becomes irreversible. But then he turns and sees Haru, crumpled on the ground. Pale. Blood seeping through her clothes.
And in that moment, any sense and logic shatters.
Resh’an drops to his knees beside her, all thoughts of time anchors and contingency plans scattering like ash. He gathers her into his arms with trembling care, as if she might shatter beneath his touch. His breath hitches and his vision blurs.
“Please… Haru…” His voice is barely a whisper, cracked open and vulnerable, not the voice of an ancient and powerful immortal.
His hands tremble as he channels healing magic into her again in desperation, clinging to the hope that if he just tried hard enough, it might work. The golden glow spills from his palms, but it flickers with his uneven breaths.
“She’s going to be fine…” he whispers to himself, trying to calm himself down desperately. “Everything’s fine… You’re okay, Haru…”
But she doesn’t respond. Her breathing remains shallow and her body is still limp in his arms. The bleeding from the wound at the back of her head hasn’t slowed down. The spell still doesn’t work and she loses too much blood. The crimson has soaked into her clothes and stained the ground beneath her.
She already lost too much blood. Far too much.
In that moment, something in him breaks and his mind stops working, the thoughts dissolve into white noise. The logic, the centuries of discipline and calculation are gone. Resh’an’s hands remain pressed to her body, but he no longer feels the magic flowing. He no longer feels anything at all. Only the cold, numbing dread that sinks into his bones.
Everything crashes down on him at once, making him unable to speak or move. He just stares at her, frozen in place, as if time itself has turned against him. And all he can do is sit there, paralyzed and staring down at the only person who ever made him feel human again.
At the top of the outpost, the others cling to the trembling stone, holding their breath as the world shudders beneath them. No one speaks. They watch in stunned horror as the serpent thrashes against the cliffside with brutal force.
The melody still lingers in the air, but the Sleeper doesn’t calm. The plan, it seems, has failed.
Behind them, the Molekins run around in panic, shouting prayers and searching desperately for cover.
Valere fumbles at the lever, pulling it sharply. Nothing happens. “The platform’s jammed,” she says through clenched teeth. “It’s not responding!”
Garl’s eyes dart between the valley and the broken controls. “Wh-What is Resh’an doing? Where is he?” he asks, voice tight with panic. “He needs to stop this now or…” He swallows hard, unable to finish the thought.
Zale steps forward to the edge of the cliff, face pale but determined. “We can’t just stand here. If we don’t act, that thing’s going to bring the whole mountain down.”
“No.” Valere grabs his wrist and yanks him back just as another tremor rolls through the outpost, nearly knocking them off their feet. “Resh’an told us not to interfere. We wait.”
Zale jerks his arm from her grasp. “Something’s wrong, Val. He would’ve acted by now. Haru’s still down there. What if something bad happened to her?”
Valere points toward the control lever. “And what do you want to do? Jump?”
Their voices echo sharply through the growing chaos. Serai stands next to them at the edge with narrowed eyes, her gaze fixed on the dust-choked abyss below. Her jaw tightens. Without a word, she opens a glowing green portal at her side.
“Be right back,” she mutters.
“Wait, what?!” Valere turns toward her in shock. “Serai!”
But she’s already stepping into the portal. It shimmers for a breath longer then disappears behind her.
“Damn it!” Valere curses. “She can’t just leave us here like that!”
“She just did,” Zale says stunned.
Garl’s gaze lingers on the spot where Serai stood only moments ago. “Serai…” he whispers under his breath, his eyes wide with worry. “What are you planning?”
Below, Resh’an still does not move. He should do something, anything, but he could only stare at Haru. The fear is visceral. A quiet, suffocating panic that grips his chest like a vice. For millennia, he’s kept his emotions sealed behind logic and ritual, calculation and control. But now? Now, he is losing control of himself.
And it is terrifying.
Under any other circumstances, he could end this in a heartbeat by putting the Sleeper back to sleep. But he couldn’t leave her like this; not without proper treatment. The corruption was suppressing every healing effect, and that meant he should be finding an antidote, any antidote, or some other way to stabilise her and stop this madness.
But instead of doing anything, he just draws her limp body closer and wraps his arms around her protectively, shielding her from the storm that still crashes around them. His forehead lowers until it rests against hers. His voice, when it comes, is no more than a shattered whisper. His mind is locked in a haze of fear and disbelief. He is paralyzed by the one thing he was never prepared for:
The thought of losing her again.
He lifts his head and looks down at her with panic in his eyes. One shaking hand cups her face, his bandaged thumb brushing gently across her pale cheek. Her skin is too cold and her breathing far too faint.
“I should’ve stopped you,” he murmurs, there’s pure fear in his voice. “I was a fool. Gods, I was such a fool…”
He’s been here before. The heart-wrenching grief, the helpless stillness. Millennia ago, standing amidst the ruins of a whole civilization, convinced Aephorul had taken her from him forever. That same hollow terror is clawing its way back up through his chest now, raw and merciless, like a wound torn open beneath old scars.
And seeing her like this now? The same emotions try to tug vehemently at his heart and soul, feelings he had buried for such a long time. The mask he has worn for lifetimes shatters. The version of himself he fought to maintain – the distant, rational and untouchable version of him – crumbles beneath the weight of this moment. What’s left is the truth. A broken man who cannot bear to lose her again.
He holds her tighter, almost desperately, his breath hitching against her temple.
Not again. He cannot go through that again.
Resh’an clenches his jaw, his voice breaking “Please, wake up” he whispers, barely audible.
And then, like a cruel reminder, her words from a week ago pop up in his head. The memory alone sends a cold shiver down his spine and has been trying to suppress the memories of that evening all week.
Those sad eyes, filled with remorse and quiet longing, looking right through him. In that moment, she finally confirmed the thing, he had never dared to believe back then:
That she had loved him, too.
And he had doubted it. He had doubted her love for him. The guilt tightens in his chest, sharp and unrelenting. How could he ever have questioned the devotion of a woman so radiant, so incredible?
And now, with the truth finally laid bare between them, he is powerless to protect her. Powerless to keep her safe.
He really is a useless piece of shit.
Suddenly, a strange sound snaps Resh’an out of his spiraling thoughts. A flicker of green light cuts through the settling dust below. There, just beside the raging Sleeper, a green portal blooms into existence.
“Serai…” he breathes.
She bursts out mid-air, kunai already flying. The blades strike true, sinking between the serpent’s scales. Before the Sleeper can react, she vanishes into another portal beneath her feet, only to reappear at a different spot to throw more kunai and disappear again. Each hit is deliberate, laced with paralytic poison. She moves like a ghost, a blur of precision and nerve, dancing across the coils.
Little by little, the Sleeper's convulsions slow. The wild, destructive thrashing begins to falter. Resh’an’s eyes widen in disbelief as the serpent's fury gives way to something sluggish, almost dazed.
Then, as on call, something in the air shifts. It feels like the wind that hums through the mountain now blows more persistent. Unwavering. And the melody that flows through the air gets louder and clearer again. It’s as though the mountain has remembered Haru’s will.
The tension in the air slowly dissipates. The serpent’s body coils once more around the mountain, but this time with measured control as if he was finally emerging from his endless fever dream. Resh’an stares in disbelief as the Sleeper lifts his giant head and scans the air, eyes no longer wild with rage but clear and confused.
At the top of the mountain, the others watch in stunned silence. Garl’s breath catches in his throat. Valere steps forward with wide eyes while Zale, for once, says nothing, his brows drawn tight with surprise. They all watch as the impossible unfolds before them.
The Sleeper is awake and calm.
It worked.
He turns his attention back to her and sees the corruption slowly fading. The melody has worked on her too. And maybe, he can finally heal her now.
His hand moves quickly and the healing magic pours into her like warm sunlight, chasing away the injuries and the cold. He watches as her wounds begin to close, relief spreading through his body.
Resh’an doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath until Haru stirs faintly in his arms, her brows twitching. A soft, breathy sound escapes her lips.
His eyes flick to her face. “Haru?”
Her lashes flutter and slowly she blinks open her eyes, dazed and unfocused. She tries to speak, but her voice is barely a hoarse whisper. “Resh’an…Did…we… make it?”
Resh’an exhales shakily. Another wave of relief crashes through him so hard it almost doubles him over and he feels like a heavy weight is lifted from his shoulders, the fear and panic begin to fade as he sees her brown eyes looking at him.
“Yes,” he breathes. “Yes, we made it.”
Without thinking, without hesitation, he pulls her close. Holding her securely like something sacred without hurting her, his forehead pressed against her shoulder. His breath hitches against her collarbone as his fingers curl tightly into the fabric of her haori.
She hums softly in his embrace, her voice quiet and hoarse. “I’m okay…” She wants to touch him, reassure him, but her body feels too heavy and her head is pounding. She flinches slightly, realising that she probably got a concussion from the impact.
“No,” he says, barely louder than a breath. “You’re not okay. You were—” He cuts off, swallowing hard, unable to finish the sentence.
He pulls back, eyes dropping to the blood trailing down her neck, soaking into her clothes. He continues to heal her and she closes her eyes, exhaling shakily. Her muscles begin to relax beneath his touch. The pain begins to ebb.
He watches her, the tension in his jaw finally loosening at the realisation that the healing really worked and she is here with him.
“I thought I’d lost you. Again...” He murmurs quietly. The words barely make it out, raw and full of something he can’t quite name. He doesn't know what he would have done if she hadn't woken up.
She doesn’t respond, just leans into him, her fingers weakly gripping the front of his robe as if trying to ground him. To show him that she’s here.
A green portal flickers open beside them, pulling both out of the fragile moment. Serai steps through, taking in the scene in a single sweep: Haru, bloodied but conscious in Resh’an’s arms; the dust still settling from the chaos below.
Resh’an glances up instinctively, adjusting his posture, the intensity of her stare putting him slightly on edge. But instead of berating him for not intervening earlier, she walks over and crouches beside Haru.
“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” she says flatly, though her voice lacks its usual edge.
Haru hums soft in reply, giving her a weak apologetic smile.
Serai stares at her a moment longer. Her eyes narrow as they skim over the bruises, the blood still drying on Haru’s head and neck Then she exhales sharply and stands, brushing off her coat with a huff. “Come on. The others are waiting above.” She opens a portal beside them and gestures toward it with a slight nod. Haru’s eyes widen just a little, but Serai cuts her off with a mutter, “Don’t get used to it. This is a one-time thing.”
Resh’an adjusts his hold, cradling Haru more securely in his arms as he rises to his feet. He gives Serai a nod. “Thank you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Not for you, old man.”
They step through the portal, and the moment the others see them, a wave of relief washes across their faces
Resh’an carries Haru in his arms, her head rests lightly against his shoulder and her eyes closed. She wasn’t unconscious anymore, but still dazed from the severe concussion. The sight of her, battered and bruised but alive, roots the others in place for a second. They want to approach but falter when they catch the expression on Resh’an’s face. A silent warning flickers in his gaze: Not now, not yet.
Without a word, he strides past them and kneels beside a flat stone outcrop, gently lowering Haru down and propping her up so she can lean against the cool rock.
With a clearer head than before, takes up his vial and begins preparing another potion. “Drink this too,” he says quietly. “Just in case.”
She watches him in silence, every line of his face drawn tight in concentration as he works with practiced precision. His hands are steady enough to measure and mix, but the faint tremor in his fingers betrays the tension still coiled in him.
The others remain quiet and watch as Haru slowly drinks the shimmering fluid from the vial. They can still sense Resh'an's fraught state and none of them dare to interrupt that moment.
When she finishes, Resh’an lets out a slow breath and finally lowers himself beside her, settling heavily onto the ground. The silence stretches a beat longer.
Then, finally, Valere steps forward. Her concerned gaze lingers on Haru, taking in the bruises, the dried blood on her body, the pale edge of her expression. “You alright?” she asks gently.
Haru manages a small nod. “Better now. My head still kills me though,” she murmurs, her voice gravelly, “but I’ll live.”
Valere sighs, shaking her head “That was reckless,” she says, but her tone is soft, without accusation. “You scared the crap out of us.”
“I scared me too,” Haru admits. “Didn’t exactly plan for the part where I get smacked into a mountain.”
“I thought he’d made mashed potatoes out of you,” Zale mutters.
Despite everything, a ripple of laughter breaks through the tension.
But Resh’an doesn’t laugh. His gaze remains fixed on Haru, quiet and unreadable. The others are beginning to settle, but something in him hasn’t. The aftershock of almost losing her hasn’t fully left him. Even though she’s safe now, a lingering fear claws at him, one he can't ignore. He knows he can’t afford to let something like this happen again. Not to her. Not to himself. It’s too dangerous for everyone if he loses control like that.
Valere turns to Serai with a firm expression. “And you. What were you thinking? You can’t just vanish like that. What if something had happened to you too?”
Serai exhales slowly and looks off to the side. “I didn’t know if it would work,” she admits. “But I still had to try.”
Valere shakes her head, still exasperated but also relieved. “You're really mad as hell to just jump in there on your own,” she mutters, but her voice is soft.
“Still can’t believe that actually worked. I thought we were done for” Zale crosses his arms, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But you? You’re a beast, Serai.”
Valere and the others can’t help but agree to that. Garl, however, remains quiet, his eyes fixed on Serai. His expression is hard to read – part shock, part something deeper.
Serai catches his look, but after a heartbeat, she glances away.
Zale and Valere notice the exchange, but don’t push further. They watch how Garl’s eyes linger on Serai for a moment longer.
Malkomud and Rockie return just as the dust settles across the outpost. The Molekin adjusts his robe, brushing off some lingering debris. “You two really scared us,” he says, frowning slightly as his gaze flicks across the group. “I swear, your group is the craziest bunch I’ve ever met.”
Rockie lets out a low, rumbling grumble in agreement. She waddles over to Haru with careful, lumbering steps and nudges her gently with her massive, stony head. Haru’s breath catches for a moment, then she lets out a quiet, tired chuckle, her hand reaching up to stroke the side of Rockie’s face.
“Hi, Rockie,” she murmurs softly.
The stone beast hums, snuggling closer as if trying to protect her with her presence alone. Haru leans slightly into the touch, her fingers trailing along the side of Rockie’s face.
“You’re a big cuddle bug, huh?” she says, her voice rough with fatigue but full of affection.
A few moments later, the sound of stone shifting draws the group’s attention toward the cliff's edge. The Sleeper’s massive head rises slowly into view as his great coils sliding up the mountainside. His glowing blue eyes scan the outpost, lingering briefly on each face before settling on the two figures near the ledge.
He draws closer, his head lowering until it hovers just above the ledge where Haru rests. There’s no malice in his gaze now. Only curiosity and something that looks very much like reverence.
“You are the one who freed me,” he rumbles, his voice deep and echoing, yet strangely calm. “You reached into the storm of my mind and quieted it. After so long in darkness, I am myself again.”
Haru blinks up at him, the size of him still dizzying even through the fog of pain. “I just... guided the wind,” she says quietly, voice still rough from earlier events. “The song and you did the rest.”
The Sleeper’s eyes narrow slightly, as if amused. “You are modest. But I remember your presence. The melody followed your will. I remember the clarity it brought. The calm.” His voice softens, like distant thunder retreating into the sky. “I owe you my life.”
There’s a short pause before the Sleeper’s voice shifts, now quieter and more thoughtful. “I have been lost for so long. Bound to rage and to nightmares. And yet you called me back. I am not certain what comes next... but if there is any way I can serve, you need only speak it.”
Haru’s eyes flick toward the spot where the stone platform would usually awaits them if it hasn’t been destroyed. She manages a tired half-smile. “Well... a ride to Brisk would be nice.”
The Sleeper follows her gaze and rumbles a sound that might be a chuckle. “That, I can do.”
He leans in slightly, lowering his body so that his long, winding neck forms a gentle ramp curling up toward the outpost’s ledge.
“Climb aboard,” he says simply. “Let me carry you the rest of the way.”
Resh’an meets his gaze with a measured nod, then shifts to lift Haru carefully once more. She groans softly, but doesn’t resist. The others gather close, their expressions a mix of awe and disbelief.
“Well,” Garl says, his smile finally returns “this might be the coolest ride I’ve ever taken.”
Zale elbows him playfully. “Don’t fall off, bro.”
One by one, they begin to climb onto the Sleeper’s back, the massive serpent waiting patiently as they settle. Resh’an takes his place near the front, Haru resting against his chest. Her eyes flutter closed again, lulled by the warmth of his presence and the steady rise and fall of his breath. With a slow, deliberate motion, the Sleeper begins to move. Behind them, the others wave farewell to Malkomud and the gathered Molekin, their small figures growing more and more distant.
Resh’an hasn’t left her side, not even after they return to Brisk and settle in for the night at the inn before heading back to the Sky Council. He hasn’t said much since. His composure has returned, outwardly at least, but tension still clings to his posture.
Haru lies on the bed in their small rented room, her breathing even and soft in sleep. Resh’an sits beside her in silence, unmoving, his eyes fixed on her as if he’s guarding a precious relic. A single candle flickers on the nightstand, casting long shadows across the walls.
Thousands of thoughts churn behind his otherwise calm expression.
This can’t happen again. He tells himself that with every passing breath. Today… today was a failure. Haru was injured and the corruption kept him from healing her. The helplessness broke through him and he lost control. He let emotion override his sense. And because of that, Haru almost…
He clenches his jaw, the memory alone sharp enough to cut through bone. He is centuries old. A powerful, composed being. He has faced many foes, he defied Aephorul and altered fate itself. And yet, he unravelled the moment he saw her broken in his arms.
He can’t afford it. Not again.
The sound of fabric rustling pulls him out of the spiral. Haru stirs against the sheets, a soft murmur escaping her lips as her lashes flutter open. She blinks up at the ceiling, disoriented for a moment before turning her head toward him.
“Resh’an… Have you been here this whole time?” Her voice is soft, drowsy. She glances around, taking in the quiet inn room and the faint glow of the candlelight. “You really don’t have to stay here…”
“I stay,” he says without hesitation. His tone is quiet but firm. There is no room for negotiation.
She exhales a slow breath, letting her head fall back to the pillow. Silence stretches between them for a few heartbeats. Then, she speaks again, her voice quieter this time. “Are you… mad at me?”
He frowns, caught off guard by the question. “Mad?”
“Yeah…” She swallows. “I mean, because I screwed it up. Without you, I’d probably be dead. I-I made you worry.”
He goes completely still. Her words strike a nerve. His gaze hardens, though not towards her, rather towards himself. His chest tightens with the guilt he has spent hours trying to push down. But it rises again, slow and bitter.
She really thinks he’s angry at her? No. He’s furious, but only at himself. If only he hadn’t agreed to the damn plan in the first place. If only he’d intervened earlier. If only he’d tried harder-
He exhales through his nose, jaw clenched. Every fibre of him aches with the weight of almost losing her.
“Resh’an…” Haru’s voice is quiet, almost tentative but loud enough to pull him from the spiral of thoughts he’s been trapped in.
She’s sitting up now, watching him. He tenses at the sound of her voice and she sees it. The way he stiffens. The way his eyes suddenly won’t meet hers. He’s clearly struggling with everything that happened today, and how it shattered the image he tries so hard to uphold.
She reaches for his hand, gently brushing her fingers against his. But the contact makes him flinch, as if burned. He pulls back quickly, gaze dropping to the floor.
“Don’t… say my name like that.” His voice comes out sharp. Harsher than he means it to be, but he doesn’t take it back.
Haru’s eyes widen slightly. She draws back, her shoulders sagging. The coldness in his voice hits harder than she expects. Her gaze falls to her hands in her lap, quiet hurt flashing across her features.
She doesn’t say anything. The silence between them is unbearable.
Resh’an glances at her from the corner of his eye and regrets it instantly. Her expression is a punch to the gut. That mix of pain and resignation. Gods, he wants to say something. Anything. Yell at her to stop looking at him like that.
But at the same time, he craves to reach out to her. Hold her like he did on the cliffside. But he doesn’t deserve that. Not after today. Not after how badly he failed her.
He knows she wants answers. About what happened down there. Why he didn’t act. Why he just stood there when she needed him most. But how is he supposed to explain that his mind collapsed under the weight of it all? That he froze when he realised that she was dying in front of him? That the fear—real, raw, unfiltered—paralyzed him in a way he’s never known?
What kind of fool breaks like that after centuries of discipline?
What kind of ‘god’ forgets how to move?
“Resh’an, don’t do this to me now… please.” Her voice pulls him from his thoughts again, barely louder than a whisper. “You know we should talk about what happened.”
Resh’an closes his eyes for a second, trying to steady himself against the storm of emotions rising inside him—the shame, guilt, fear and longing. But today proved what he already knew. He can’t get closer to her again. Not like this. Not when his feelings could cost her everything.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Haru,” he says at last, the words clipped and quiet. He doesn’t look at her when he stands. He doesn’t dare. “You should continue to rest.”
She panics as he turns to go, reaching out with a trembling hand. Her fingers catch the edge of his sleeve, desperate to stop him, but the soft fabric slips through her grasp before she can hold on.
“Resh’an, please…” Her voice cracks. “Don’t push me away like this.”
He stops, one hand on the door handle. For a moment, silence stretches thick between them. Then, without turning around, he speaks.
“I lost control, Haru.” His voice is low and tight. “I put everyone at risk because I couldn’t think straight in a serious situation when I saw you like that, corrupted by an ancient foe and bleeding to death.” He swallows hard. “You could’ve died because I hesitated. Because I let myself feel something I shouldn’t.”
She stares at his back, the weight of his words crashing over her like a cold wave.
“I can’t let that happen again,” he continues. “My only purpose is to defeat Aephorul. That’s why I’m still here, that’s the only reason for my cursed existence.” His tone sharpens. “There’s no room for… this. For weakness or emotions.”
Her breath catches, throat tight. “D-Don’t say that. You don’t mean it—”
“But I do,” he cuts in, harsher now. “You saw what happened today. I failed. I let my guard down, and it almost cost everything.” He takes a breath, trying to steady himself. “It’s better if I keep my distance. For both of us.”
Haru sits frozen, her heart pounding. She stares at him like she doesn’t recognize the man standing there.
She shakes her head, as if trying to shield herself from his words. Her grip on the blanket tightens. Her voice is measured, but the pain behind it is clear.
“So that’s it? We just pretend none of it meant anything? We just ignore our feelings and focus on Aephorul? Because that’s everything that matters to you?”
“Yes,” he replies bluntly, his voice laced with bitterness. “What we felt for each other lies in the past. It’s been millennia, Haru. What did you expect? That now everything is peace and happiness, and we can finally be together? All the pain and suffering forgotten?” He scoffs, like the thought itself is laughable.
The sound of it stings. She looks down at her hands, swallowing hard, trying to hold back the wave of emotions building in her chest. She feels foolish for even entertaining the hope that they could have something… something real in the midst of this endless war. But is it really so wrong to want it?
She clears her throat, trying to hold herself together. “This is what you really think?” Her voice cracks despite her effort to keep it steady. “That a future together is just… irrational? Some kind of joke?”
At her words, he finally turns to look at her. Her sad expression punches through his resolve, and for a moment, guilt flickers in his eyes. He wrestles with it silently. Because he knows, deep down, he wanted to give in. But he also knows it’s better this way.
“I can’t give you what you want, Haru,” he says quietly. The sharpness in his voice is gone, replaced with something softer. Regret. Pain. “I wish I could… but I can’t.”
She shakes her head, refusing his words. “That’s not true.” Her eyes glisten. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You’ve always been the only one, Resh’an.”
He freezes and for a second, he can’t move. Then he turns away again quickly, because he can’t bear to see her like this, so open and vulnerable, while he feels like he’s unravelling.
He draws a deep, shaky breath. “I’m a mess, Haru…” he mutters, his voice low. “What do you even want from someone like me?” His grip tightens on the door handle. “A man with a decayed body. A failure. You should look for someone better. Someone younger. Someone who doesn’t carry millennia of war, loss, and guilt on his back.”
His words hit her hard. She wants to yell at him, to tell him she doesn’t care. That she’ll always want him, no matter what he looks like, no matter what’s happened between them. But the words stick in her throat.
Instead, she stands. Slowly.
Her feet carry her toward him, quiet against the wooden floor. She stops just behind him. Her hand reaches out, trembling slightly as she grabs the sleeve of his robe, holding the fabric tightly like a lifeline. Her head comes to rest against his back, against the curve of his shoulder blades. He tenses up.
“You’re not the only one who’s a mess, you know…” she murmurs, her voice muffled against the layers of cloth.
He lets out a bitter huff. “That’s different, Haru. I can’t afford to feel these things.” He pauses for a moment. “I-I'm scared, okay?” he confesses, the words rough-edged. “What happened today... it showed me how dangerous it is. How much I lose when I let myself care.”
Her grip tightens at that. “You’re scared, I get it. You’re scared to lose control again… But don’t give up on us so easily. Not after everything we’ve been through.”
His walls, so carefully rebuilt, begin to crumble under her words. He breathes in deep, but shame rushes in to quickly fill the cracks she has opened.
“It’s not just that,” he says softly. “It’s… my appearance. The decay.” The words scrape their way out. Just admitting it aloud feels like peeling off a mask he’s worn for centuries. “You don’t understand how hard it is to be seen like that. To see yourself like that.”
She frowns, pulling in a breath. “You think that’s what would make me turn away? That I’d stop wanting you just because you don’t look twenty anymore?”
Resh’an scoffs, his voice tight and frustrated. “You have no idea what you're asking for, Haru. What you're getting yourself into.”
At that, she gently pulls away. “Then show me,” she says quietly.
His body goes still for a moment before he turns to face her with wide eyes, his breath caught in his throat. A wave of unease crashes over him. “Show you?” he echoes, his voice barely above a whisper. “No... you don’t want that. My face…it’s not what you remember. It’s-it's repulsive. I’m not who I was.” His voice wavers, cracked open by something deeper than fear: Shame and self-loathing.
“Sit down.” She nods toward the bed, her voice steady. “Please.” Her gaze doesn’t waver, and after a moment, he exhales slowly. There’s no way out of this, not now. Not from her.
He walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. She follows. His fingers fidget in his lap, tugging at the fabric of his ancient robe. He can’t meet her eyes. Everything about him—his posture, his breathing—is tense and uncertain.
Silence stretches between them before he finally speaks, his voice low and unguarded. “Are you sure you want to see me?” he mutters. “You’re not going to like it.”
His gaze stays glued to his hands. He looks smaller somehow, not physically but in presence, like something heavy is pressing down on him. It’s been centuries since someone saw his face. Since he allowed anyone this close.
Haru can feel it: The anxiety beneath his calm, the raw fear he’s trying to smother. She steps closer, until she’s standing right in front of him.
“Look at me,” she says gently.
He hesitates. Then, slowly, he lifts his eyes to hers. And she’s close, closer than he expected. The nearness catches him off guard. His eyes widen slightly.
She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just studies the veil that hides most of his face. The delicate purple cloth is familiar, yet heavy now with the weight of everything it’s hiding.
She reaches up. Her fingers brush the side of the veil, right along his jaw. The contact makes him flinch, barely, but a tremble runs through him anyway.
“Are you ready?” she asks quietly, her voice soft but steady.
He closes his eyes, his breath hitching as he exhales sharply. Then he gives the smallest nod. She waits, just a moment longer, in case he changes his mind. But he doesn’t.
Her fingers move carefully, slowly, and the veil slips beneath her touch. Inch by inch, she pulls it down, revealing more and more of his face. It carries the same damage as his arms, only more intimate and exposed. His skin is pale and covered in scars and cracked, irritated skin. His lips are chapped and pale. His breath shakes.
And yet, even with all of that laid bare, she doesn’t flinch or look away. Instead, her hand rises again and her fingers brush gently against the side of his cheek, gently tracing one of the deep scars carved by millennia of decay.
Startled by the contact, his eyes snap open. He has expected a different reaction, but he’s met with an understanding expression. And a quiet ache that mirrors his own.
Tears begin to sting at the edges of his eyes. “Why…?” he chokes out. He swallows hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “How can you look at me like this?” He draws in a sharp breath. “I’m… hideous.”
The word feels like a blade to her chest. She sees it now, more clearly than ever. The weight he carries. The years of hiding behind veils and silence. The way people must have recoiled from him. The way even he started to believe that the only thing others saw was the ruin of his body, not the man beneath it. Not Resh’an.
Her heart breaks for him. Her hands rise to cradle his face, gently wiping away the tear that slips down his cheek.
“No matter how you look, Resh’an, you’re still you…” she says softly, her voice threaded with emotion, “And that means more to me than anything else.”
“D-Don’t say that…” he whispers. More tears well in his eyes as his voice falters again. “How can you be so…so incredibly kind after what happened today? I failed you. I lost control. I couldn’t protect you properly. And now… now that you’ve seen what I’ve become…”
“You’re still here,” she interrupts gently, her words steady and certain. “That’s what matters to me.”
To her, he is still the same Resh’an from millennia ago. The infuriating, stubborn alchemist who once teased her at every fitting moment, yet stood by her side without question. He had been her anchor once. Her safe haven. And now, in this moment, despite all the time and scars, he holds her gaze like she’s the only thing anchoring him to this world.
She lets go of his face and wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a quiet embrace.
He doesn’t resist. He can’t. She breaks through his walls without effort, and it terrifies him how easily she managed it. But even as every instinct screams at him to pull away, he doesn’t move. He stays. Because deep down, despite everything, he is a man with a heart that wanted to be loved. Even if he has convinced himself otherwise.
He’s spent so long being treated like something to fear, to pity, to avoid. He’s used to cruelty. To revulsion. To people who look at him and see only what time has taken. But this woman, this maddening, reckless and compassionate woman holds him like he’s something precious. She looks at him with adoration when no one else did.
And it undoes him.
His hands shake as he finally lifts them, wrapping his arms around her in return. He clings to the back of her shirt like a lifeline, his head pressing against her chest. His mind is a tangle of fear and disbelief and some part of him keeps whispering that this is a mistake. That he doesn’t deserve it. That she’d be better off without him. But he doesn’t let go.
He licks his lips, trying to ease the dryness in his mouth, and draws in a shaky breath.
“Are you sure… that you really want this?” he asks hoarsely, almost afraid to hear the answer.
She doesn’t hesitate. She nods, her arms tightening just slightly around him. “I am.”
He exhales slowly, almost like it hurts. “Okay…” He hesitates. “But—” His voice catches. He clenches his jaw, frustrated with himself for being so afraid. “I’m… fucked up, Haru. I’m…” He breaks off again, shaking his head. “I’m just… not very good at this,” he admits finally, his voice barely more than a whisper. “All those years, I’ve only ever relied on myself. It was easier that way. Safer.” He swallows hard. “Opening up again... even just the idea of it feels dangerous, even terrifying.” His voice trembles now, heavy with the weight of centuries. “I’m scared.”
She pulls back just enough to look at him, her hands resting gently on his shoulders. Her gaze holds his without wavering. “I know you’re scared,” she says quietly. “So am I. But we can figure it out. Together. You don’t have to carry everything alone anymore.”
He looks at her, really looks at her and in her eyes, he sees no judgement. No doubt. Only sincerity. Longing. And something achingly close to hope.
“…Together,” he murmurs, the word fragile but real.
And for the first time in ages, the idea of opening up and sharing this burden doesn’t feel impossible anymore.
After a few quiet seconds, he lets go of her slowly and reaches for his veil, pulling it back up into place. She doesn’t stop him. She understands. He still feels exposed. It’s something he’ll need time to come to terms with and she knows better than to push him now.
His eyes flick to the bed. “You should really rest,” he says softly. “Before we leave this world.”
Haru nods and slips beneath the sheets, the fabric rustling softly as she settles in. Her gaze lingers on him as he moves to the chair beside her. She hesitates, just for a moment, then reaches out with one hand and gently takes his.
He startles slightly, shoulders tensing, but this time, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curl around hers in a quiet, careful gesture. There is a tenderness in the way he holds her now, like he is afraid she might vanish if he’s not careful.
Her lips curve into a small, content smile. “Just until I’m asleep…” she murmurs, her voice already trailing off as her eyes begin to close. “Please…”
He doesn’t respond. He only shifts slightly in the chair, his fingers still wrapped gently around hers. His thumb brushes once across her knuckles.
She exhales slowly, her body relaxing. Within moments, her breathing evens out and the tension eases from her face as sleep overtakes her.
He doesn’t move his hand. He just sits there, holding on because he needs it too. Because for the first time in a long, long while, he doesn’t feel completely alone anymore.
Notes:
Thanks for reading! <3
Lady_Platinum on Chapter 13 Sat 02 Nov 2024 05:52AM UTC
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Aoide94 on Chapter 13 Sat 02 Nov 2024 12:51PM UTC
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Lady_Platinum on Chapter 14 Sat 28 Dec 2024 08:52AM UTC
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Aoide94 on Chapter 14 Sun 29 Dec 2024 05:54PM UTC
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Lady_Platinum on Chapter 14 Sun 29 Dec 2024 06:44PM UTC
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Aoide94 on Chapter 14 Sun 29 Dec 2024 07:26PM UTC
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Lady_Platinum on Chapter 14 Sun 29 Dec 2024 09:12PM UTC
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Aoide94 on Chapter 14 Mon 30 Dec 2024 02:03AM UTC
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Lady_Platinum on Chapter 15 Sun 16 Feb 2025 08:06PM UTC
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Aoide94 on Chapter 15 Mon 17 Feb 2025 12:40AM UTC
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Kimurachan (Guest) on Chapter 15 Tue 18 Feb 2025 12:29PM UTC
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Aoide94 on Chapter 15 Tue 18 Feb 2025 02:14PM UTC
Last Edited Tue 18 Feb 2025 02:15PM UTC
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B0thre (Guest) on Chapter 15 Thu 20 Feb 2025 06:31AM UTC
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Kimurachan (Guest) on Chapter 15 Tue 08 Apr 2025 05:07PM UTC
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Lady_Platinum on Chapter 16 Sat 26 Apr 2025 10:41PM UTC
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Aoide94 on Chapter 16 Sun 27 Apr 2025 07:06PM UTC
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Kimurachan (Guest) on Chapter 16 Thu 01 May 2025 01:46PM UTC
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Last Edited Thu 01 May 2025 02:36PM UTC
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Lady_Platinum on Chapter 17 Wed 14 May 2025 03:22AM UTC
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Lady_Platinum on Chapter 18 Mon 23 Jun 2025 09:10AM UTC
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Kimurachan (Guest) on Chapter 18 Thu 26 Jun 2025 09:30PM UTC
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Aoide94 on Chapter 18 Thu 26 Jun 2025 09:50PM UTC
Last Edited Thu 26 Jun 2025 09:51PM UTC
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Lady_Platinum on Chapter 19 Mon 11 Aug 2025 01:26AM UTC
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