Part 9

If training Sorey meant beating him to the ground until he could naturally connect to his elemental artes, then training Mikleo was about poking him to insanity so he could learn control and finesse - something Mikleo rather thought he knew just fine after over five hundred years. He and Sorey were supposed to be resting, but there was a deep ache in between his shoulders that implied he had used his artes too much. He was tempted to rest in his vessel, the divine bow he had carried for so long, but he was too restless. Moreover, they didn't have a vessel for Sorey, and he didn't want to leave his partner alone without knowing he could sleep safely.

For now he skimmed the notes and journals he had taken since they had set out on their journey. Most of the writing had appeared once they had landed at Hell's Way, and now there were pages and pages of revelations: learning what Grand Shepherd Artorius had really planned, the lengths he had gone to, the terrible crimes he had committed against both humanity and the malakhim; Velvet and the rise of the first Lord of Calamity, the truth about her revenge, the origin of Maotelus - Phi, he reminded himself - and the sacrifice she made to be with her brother.

Even now, months into the longnight, he still had moments where he stopped, just stopped, as he realized how much of history had repeated itself. He wondered about Velvet's brother more than once, was repulsed by what had been done to Velvet. No wonder Phi had said it was time she was freed - she and her brother didn't deserve to be locked away eating each other for eternity. He wondered what the idea was, the grand thought that would get them to break the cycle. He wondered why Sorey had been asked to do this.

He looked down at his partner, curled around his waist and muttering about prickleboar jerky and fruit drinks. Rokurou was elsewhere, endlessly training. Sorey's biggest cowlick was slowly turning wheat blond, a sign he was getting stronger as a seraph and looking suspiciously like Gramps' one gold streak of hair. It gave him a bittersweet smile, to have a reminder of the person who took such care in raising them both, and the tragic end they had all come to.

Mikleo took a deep breath and tried to center himself.

Best to think on how to organize the day.

That day would be Sorey's turn to train, so Mikleo would have the time to keep resting after wearing out his seraphic artes so thoroughly. He'd focus on healing Sorey as needed and, once he was feeling up to it, do some of the control exercises that he'd learned as a child. The following "day" such as it was up here, would be rest for all of them. Rokurou had mentioned that midwinter had a festival in town and he'd promised to go. Mikleo and Sorey had both been planning to go as well, just to explore and get more of the culture and history. Mikleo didn't want all of this round of journals to be world-shattering revelations of history. Some actual history and ruins would be a balm right now.

There was a flicker, out of the corner of his eye, and Mikleo looked up. Rokurou was still by the fire, on his side and sleeping. Sorey was still with Mikleo, curled around him. But there was a faint green tinge to the light.

Looking up, Mikleo gasped.

A sky on green fire! "Sorey!" he hissed, shaking a shoulder. "Sorey! Wake up!"

"Mikleo…" Sorey mumbled, "... what?"

"Look!"

Trails of green flowed over the sky, burning upward in beams of light, undulating and curving, far above them.

"Woah," Sorey said, immediately standing up. Mikleo joined him. "What is that?"

"I've heard stories but never seen it," Mikleo whispered, watching bits of gold and purple flare in the distance.

"This is amazing…" Sorey looked at Mikleo, delight flashing in his green eyes that reflected the green fire above them. "I wonder why…"

Mikleo sat back down quickly, pulling out his inks to sketch, eyes absorbing every detail he could. "You can sense weather, can you sense this?" he asked.

"I don't know, I kinda don't want to take my eyes off of it." Sorey pointed to the different colors in the distance. "See? Some of that looks like the color of your eyes. "Oh, and that coloration reminds me of sunrise."

Mikleo kept sketching, watching the strange lights, crossing the sky.

"Oooh," Sorey reached out. "That's… Oh, okay."

"Sorey?"

"I can sense it… It's… it's on such a small, small level." Sorey's eyes narrowed in concentration. "I don't know how to describe it. Something is… excited? The lights are calming down."

Mikleo frowned. "I don't understand."

"I don't have the words. But…" Sorey smiled, looking up at the sky. "I think it's like… my artes."

Mikleo smiled, going back to his sketches.

The sky remained on fire for another ten minutes… then just dissipated. Gone. Leaving the dark sky and twinkling stars. Mikleo set aside his sketches, standing next to Sorey again, both still staring at the sky.

"This world," Sorey said softly, "has so many things to discover. So many things to explore." He turned to Mikleo. "I want… I can sorta feel…" He looked up to the sky again.

"Yes, Sorey. Go ahead."

"Luzrov Rulay."

Mikleo the Enforcer.

Mikleo felt the pull along the contract he never closed, followed it, and engulfed Sorey, nestling into his soul as he did when Sorey was human. But the more spiritual nature of seraphim brought them closer, the link between them linking their minds in a way they hadn't tried since that fight with Rokurou when they had first armatized. Mikleo could sense Sorey's memories, feel his feelings of wonder and delight at seeing that strange light of the north, and he could feel Sorey's wish.

With both together in an armatus, with the merged power and artes, they summoned a column of ice, rising up to the sky so that Sorey, with a sensitivity he hadn't mastered for his own artes yet, reached out to the sky to better sense what had happened, using the armatus not as a weapon, but as a way to explore and discover.

"Ah, that's how you sense your artes," Sorey murmured, and Mikleo felt his connection to water being studied. Knowing what Sorey was looking for, Mikleo went through all the times he connected with water, how it was instinct, and before it was, when Zenrus had had Mikleo in the reservoir and told him not to leave it until he could manipulate the water.

"Just like Gramps," Sorey snorted. But with the knowledge of how Mikleo connected, he reached out to the air, feeling for what he had sensed before, the strange charge. Mikleo could almost feel what Sorey was reaching for, and then, he felt something click for Sorey.

All at once they were within the green fire, and Sorey focused, all his attention on something Mikleo couldn't see, and then the green fire turned lavender. The same color of Mikleo's eyes.

"Amazing," they both said.

Then their column of ice collapsed, the lights disappeared, and the two were falling through the air.

They righted themselves, Mikleo summoning a small burst of snow for a lighter impact, and Sorey rolling into it to distribute the momentum. Standing up, they split.

"Rokurou," Mikleo growled, looking at the daemon who smiled unrepentantly. "What was that for?"

"Yeah, what gives?"

Rokurou just grinned. "I've been wondering when you two would armatize again. You took a lot of punishment and never once called on it. Instead, you go up to look at the aurora?"

Sorey immediately picked up on the word. "Aurora? Is that what that green fire is?"

Mikleo, however, wouldn't be deterred. "That doesn't explain why you interrupted us."

Rokurou leaned in, closer than Mikleo was comfortable with and he stepped back automatically. "An armatus is a weapon. It combines strength and will. I've been training you two for quite a while now and yet neither of you has called upon it yet. Given that you were sick after you used it, I was wondering if it was too difficult to do with two seraph."

"We'd never done it before," Sorey said, drawing Rokurou's eye. "Before it was…" Sorey shook his head. "It was a lot. It was desperate. There's a… difference to it compared to when I was human."

"And this time?"

"Still different. Weird," Sorey crossed his arms, looking up to the sky again. "It's a… deeper connection. This time…" he trailed off, trying to find words.

"We both understood what we were doing," Mikleo said. "We were better braced. We were able to just… be."

"Hm." Rokurou leaned back, thumbing his chin. "I suppose it's like when you have a new sword or armor. You need to get the sense of it first. Okay. This changes things."

Sorey and Mikleo, as one, groaned.

Above them, the lavender of the aurora slowly faded.


"Changes things," indeed.

Training was now in the volcano; and Rokurou almost took pity on them by giving them half their time to train themselves independently. The two ranged from individual training, sparring together, working on their artes, or feeling out what their new armatus felt like. After that, however, they were expected to armatize and then fight for their lives with Rokurou's unrelenting assault. He stated flat out his goal was to push them, and push them he did. But, as they became more used to how close they were armatized, as they got better at reading each other's intent and harmonizing their movements, their training ended with Rokurou sweating, manic grin threatening to split his face.

"There's no training like fighting a shepherd!" he said brightly, hands on his hips. "Keep this up and I might actually have to push myself!"

… that was no help.

"Luzrov Rulay!"

Mikleo aimed while Sorey drew the divine bow, both of them reaching for their artes and charge the shot with both water and lightning. Rokurou was fast, and if they didn't hit on the first strike it would be one long chain of either dodging or defending before the daemon managed to break the armatus. They managed to hit, and Mikleo grunted in pride as Sorey drew again, the pair focusing first on water to dampen their opponent and then a third shot of lightning to shock him still. Rokurou never really stumbled, but he froze enough that they separated and Sorey, the better close up fighter, lightning dashed in for a strike while Mikleo started casting a distance arte. He froze Rokurou in a pillar of ice up to his hips just as Sorey landed the blow, but the hidden eye was glowing and one of his many elemental forms melted the ice. Cursing, Mikleo readied a healing arte as Rokurou landed a hit on Sorey, casting it before running up with his staff to engage in defensive combat. Rokruou was laughing, clearly enjoying himself - a sign that he was at his most dangerous. If he got carried away again…

Sorey lifted a hand, on one knee and panting.

"We yield!" he said, gasping for air. "We need a break."

"Tch! I won't get stronger against weak enemies!" Mikleo held his breath - twice now Rokurou refused to end the fight, but the daemon managed to hold a breath and his fighting spirit dispersed. "Good thing you guys aren't weak," he added with a lazy grin. "Lasted an extra ten minutes, not bad."

Sorey gave a shaky thumbs up before stretching out flat on his back. Mikleo dispersed his staff and shuffled over to his friend, falling more than sitting on his behind, just as exhausted.

"He sure pushes us to our limit, doesn't he?" Sorey said with a weak smile, his breath finally slowing. Mikleo placed a hand on his chest, looking to see if he needed another healing arte, but Sorey was just tired.

"If he pushes us any further he might get lost to his own malevolence again," he said.

Sorey huffed out a laugh before forcing himself to sit up. "Noted," he replied. "At least he can stop at a yield."

"Mostly," Mikleo said with a flat voice.

"I heard that!" Rokurou called out from across the cavern. "Just for that, I uninvite you to the midwinter festival."

"Fat chance of that happening," Sorey said brightly. "You couldn't keep us away if you tried!"

Rokurou offered a dark grin. "Is that a challenge?"

"Uh… n-nope! Not at all!"

"Hahaha, I'm just messing with you. Come on, if we leave now we'll make it right as the festival starts."

It was a two day trek across the ice fields back to Meirchio, the stars and moon lighting their way. Rokurou had been hunting when he wasn't training, had a string of animal pelts, cuts of meat, bone and ligament selections, and teeth and claws for charms, a veritable feast of items for a village so far north and living off the land. As they entered the village showered his arrival with praise, quickly picking apart the bounty and separating it out. Mikleo watched Sorey observe the work intensely, always more interested in human economics than him - he had forgotten he was invisible to the northern continent and was asking all sorts of questions that Rokurou was in no position to answer as he chatted up a village elder.

Mikleo left his partner to his fascination, drifting around the edge of a small crowd and taking a better assessment of the fishing village - the architecture was different than almost anything he had seen before. The stone blocks that made up the structures were embellished with artisanal glass windows with iron detail work, all materials that conducted heat and cold, and he wondered how the homes kept warm. The roofs were at steep angles to handle the weight of the snow, semicircle windows - again artisanal - were placed high up to grant light inside. The streetlights, too, were highly stylized, and the fires burned blue, which immediately caught his eye. He climbed one of the polls, inspecting to realize there were special elements added to the oil to make the color. Interesting - did the color have specific significance? Was there cultural subtext?

He moved back down to street level, noting the furs and cuffed sleeves and thick hoods as everyone moved about, a visual reminder that the place must be very cold this far north. He spied someone moving up the lamps as he had done, adding something to the fires and the lights slowly shifted to warm gold. Strings were hung between the polls, charms and chimes hanging from them and clicking together in the wind. A massive bonfire was held up the main steps at the center of the village, at least a dozen cookpots and cauldrons boiling delicious smells.

As the time wore on more people started gathering outside, benches and crates set up for people to sit and pull out instruments made of various materials. As they practiced Mikleo snuck into one of the buildings and felt the immediate change in temperature. There was a fire in the middle of the building, smoke pulled up through a chimney high above them, the windows crafting artful shadows in the space. Blankets and rugs were everywhere, but the thing that impressed him the mose was the vents in the floor. He held his hand over it and felt more heat - they had somehow piped or dug into the magma flows of the volcano, using them to heat their homes. How clever!

He stepped outside to find Sorey to share the discovery point, but his partner was already approaching him, waving his hand. "They're dancing in squares!" he said brightly. "I've never seen anything like it, you have to see!"

Sorey grabbed his hand and pulled him along, past the bonfire and back to the crowd in the main square - the musicians belting out a jaunty tune and everyone clapping a distinct beat. There were at least two dozen people moving about - indeed in a square - moving through obviously rehearsed gestures and turns and twirls, perfectly synchronized.

"Wow," Mikleo said, eyes drinking in the patterns, trying to understand the flow. "Why are they dancing like this?"

"Don't know," Sorey said, "No one can see us and Rokurou said he didn't care to ask. It's amazing isn't it, though? I wonder who even came up with the idea of it."

"I wonder if it's some kind of homage or heredity to soldier formation," Mikleo wondered, crossing his arms. "Old battles were often fought in phalanx formation, right? Those were quadrilateral in shape."

"Maybe, but you can't really describe any of these moves or steps as an echo of military formation. Maybe it comes from a more sociological perspective."

"It is mesmerizing to watch," Mikleo said with a nod. "Maybe it's a depiction of unity? To have everyone move as one."

"Maybe it's an ancient celebration of armatization," Sorey wondered. Then he looked down. "Then again, maybe not…"

"It's not impossible," Mikleo said, "Remember, it's not public knowledge of the origin of armatization, people here probably think of armatization - if they even know about it - the same way they do on Glenwood, the merger of a shepherd and seraph as a demonstration of their ability to work together. That might be why there are two different kinds of ceremonial dress."

"Wait, there is? But everyone's just in furs…"

Mikleo leveled a flat glare to his partner. "Look at their cuffs," he said.

"Oh. Oh! You can see there are different widths of the cuffs, and look at the embroidery!"

"Exactly. See the pattern that climbs up the sleeves? I can't get a good look at it but I think it's an old symbol of the seraph from the Era of Asgard."

"That's pretty dubious," Sorey said, squinting, "but that second pattern, that's definitely a stylized symbol of the Five Lords."

"That leads to the idea of this square dancing being a celebration of the gods at least," Mikleo said, putting a hand on his hip.

"Yeah…" Sorey said, before turning. "Wanna join the dance?"

Mikleo sputtered. "Wh-what? But we don't know the moves? We'd bump into the dancers, and-!"

But Sorey, ever living in the moment, grabbed his hand and started moving closer to the dance. He didn't quite set them up in the square, putting them on the edge of the crowd, in front of the square so they could better watch and mimic the moves. He started a poor imitation of the jig, hopping from one foot to the next, swinging his and Mikleo's arms. He was being deliberately bad, grating on Mikleo's sense of perfectionism, and sheer irritation made him correct his partner as the two of them slowly started to learn the dance. They moved from side to side, swinging and kicking their legs or shifting their hips, hopping and skipping as they slowly traced out a square within their square. The musicians moved from one song to the next, giving them a new dance to learn, and then another and another. Mikleo was a dutiful student, and Sorey laughed and enjoyed himself the entire time.

At some point the music stopped, leaving the entire crowd clapping, and Mikleo and Sorey looked at each other, energized and thrilled at the idea of what came next.

The square emptied out of the dancers, the village elder Rokurou had been talking to stepping forward and greeting different villagers as two men and a woman set up a small wood pallet - intricately painted - for the elder to stand up on it.

"Happy midwinter!" she said, feathery voice carrying out and causing a round of applause.

"This winter has gifted us with many gifts: thunder-snow, light and ice, an exuberant aurora. Young Ichigo says there may be some seraph wandering amongst us!"

Mikleo groaned and hid his head. That stupid daemon!

"We've also had two whales for bounty - perhaps a blessing of those same seraph! Let us show our respect for such a gift by eating heartily! Step up and take your share while we celebrate all the new births of the year. First is the Ainu family, their third daughter born one day after the festival last year. Next is…"

"I see," Sorey was saying, clapping a fist into an open palm. "So it's a multi-purpose festival. They're not only celebrating their good fortune for the winter but also debuting the children born in the last year."

"Never mind that," Mikleo said, holding a temple. "That idiot just announced our presence to the village."

Sorey, damn him, laughed. "I don't think it's really that bad," he said, "We have done a lot of things that they could notice, even if Rokurou didn't mention it they probably would have made offerings to the seraph anyway. Come to think of it, I don't think we've seen a Lord of the Land since coming to the continent. I wonder why that is? Maybe we should ask Rokurou. Have you seen him?"

Mikleo wasn't really interested in seeing the daemon, but he looked up and scanned the small village before groaning and pointing. "He's already half drunk," he said, Sorey seeing Rokurou sitting in the snow with a collection of men passing around sake and whatever other alcohol was local to the area.

"Right, so no revelations tonight," Sorey said, scratching a cheek. "Oh, well, that gives us the whole night to ourselves with no parents to watch over us. Wanna get in trouble?"

Mikleo snorted. "Of course."

"Trouble" for the two of them was relative - there weren't really any ruins to explore, but they took great delight in figuring out how to steal bowls of stew from one of the bonfire cookpots without anyone spying floating silverware, and threw snowballs at several kids to start a massive snowball fight - infinitely more epic than anything they had done as children when it was just the two of them. Mikleo took one side - the girls, apparently - and Sorey took the other, and the two of them played competitively, helping either side hit each other. Mikleo rather thought he had the clear advantage - right up until Sorey outright cheated by using one of his artes to subtly burst the snow right before hitting his boys. Well, if artes were involved…

On reflection it ended right before the two of them became, uh, too obvious to the humans, the children ushered to get out of the square as sleds led by teams of dogs were slowly lined up. They watched as a route was slowly cleared and marked by changing the color of the streetlights, the village elder moving through the dogs and petting them and talking with the drivers of the sleighs. She held up a finely woven cloth - clearly ceremonial - and dropped it.

"Musha!"

The dogsleds began the race, and Mikleo and Sorey watched in fascination over their stolen stew as the teams moved around the edges of the city, speculating the need for such a display.

"I mean," Sorey was saying, "speed in extreme climates like this is obviously important for sending messages and information. The port must only be open one season a year, if that. There's also agility with those hairpin turns, I wonder if there's a longer version of this race to measure endurance?"

Mikleo nodded, a little stressed to see so many dogs, mouths open and massive paws pushing along the track. A warm arm wrapped around his shoulder and he realized he was probably being obvious. Embarrassed, he felt his face flush and tried to find something to add to the conversation. "I wonder if the build of the dogs lend to their speed and agility. Some of them look pretty big…"

A pause drew out, Sorey watching Mikleo, he was sure of it. "Come on," his partner said. "Let's go see what the village elder's next ceremony is."

Grateful for the escape, Mikleo nodded, moving through the crowds again. Children were darting around, offering small charms to adults in exchange for flavored ice to suck on. The elder was sitting with the drinkers, pouring for each of them, including Rokurou, offering her gratitude for the whale bounty.

"Have you ever seen a whale before?" Sorey asked.

"No," Mikleo said. "Though I have heard of them. Supposedly they're waaaay bigger than that giant squid we saw coming here, fishlike in shape but they breathe air like land-faring animals. I don't really know much else about them though."

"Wow, there's so many parts of the world we still haven't seen yet - and you've been traveling for hundreds of years!"

The sleds came back in for an epic finish of the race, everyone crowding the exhausted teams and cheering them. A new round of dances had started up, and Mikleo noticed Sorey starting to feel overstimulated - after so many centuries asleep there had been times when crowds started to bother him. Less so as their travels wore on, but Mikleo thought for a moment for a good excuse.

"Come on," he said, "let's find a better spot to watch the square dance."

The small grateful grin warmed Mikleo's heart, and they moved up the hills before finding a vista overlooking almost the entire town, the ice covered ocean beyond. The dance below undulated, but the stars in the sky dazzled their eyes - there were no lights of a city to quell the spectacle, the sky was ablaze with stars as they slowly spun around the sky, milky swirls of painterly color behind them, making for a beautiful tapestry.

"Sorey, it's so beautiful," Mikleo said, leaning forward on an iron safety rail.

"Yeah… beautiful."

Mikleo turned and saw his partner was staring at him, green eyes full of respect and adoration and love and the water seraph felt his cheeks color. Mikleo always watched Sorey, true, but he tried to be subtle about it. Sorey had no such compulsion, always openly looking at him, and it made something pleasant flutter in his chest. He smiled, suddenly feeling shy, and Sorey reached out and touched his shoulder, squeezing. Then the lightning seraph turned up to the sky, reaching out and closing his eyes, building up the power for an arte.

Mikleo traced along their contract, curious what Sorey was casting, but all he could sense was concentration.

Eventually Sorey exhaled, letting go of the magic. "It's hard," he said after a moment. "I don't have the control yet that I need."

Mikleo frowned. "Do you want to armatize?"

"... would you mind? I want to give the village something for such a wonderful festival."

Mikleo nodded, giving permission.

"Luzrov Rulay." Mikleo the Enforcer.

They reached out again, Mikleo sensing what Sorey was trying to do: create another aurora. Mikleo remembered how the arte was caste, and made small nudges, feeling Sorey click into place. "Borealis Burst," they breathed, and the sky lit up in a dazzle of sudden light - greens and reds flaring across the canvas of stars. They watched as the village caught sight of the show, all of them slowing to a stop as Sorey painted his picture, shifting the greens to blues and then to lavenders. Mikleo fed into the arte as he could - taking the shifting snowflakes in the air and edging their angles just so, trying to make them catch the light. It was the finest control he had ever mustered, controlling individual snowflakes, and he knew Rokurou would be proud of the attempt.

They held the arte for as long as they could, pushing all their positive feelings into the show, before one of them lost concentration and it fell apart, the borealis and reflected snow fading as the magic dissipated. They separated, both a little out of breath, but when they caught each other's eyes they were smiling.

"Still the perfectionist," Sorey chuckled.

"Always," Mikleo smiled. "I've never had such control before."

"Yeah, I could sense that."

They looked up to the fading aurora, the plethora of stars. "I wonder," Mikleo said, reaching out and holding his partner's hand. "We've been using my true name to armatize this whole time. Would our skills and abilities change if we used your true name?"

Sorey stiffened next to him, surprising Mikleo. He turned to see Sorey - of all people - turn bright pink and look down. "Uhm, about that," he said, and then sputtered and fumbled. "I've been meaning to ask… but… when does a seraph… how do they realize… um…" He winced, scratching a cheek and then snaking his free hand behind his head. "... I don't…"

It clicked audibly in Mikleo's head as he realized the truth. "You don't know your true name?" he asked.

"Uhm… no?"

… this whole time? Mikleo stared, poleaxed.

Sorey stuttered, trying to explain. "I mean… I know true names are this really private thing, and nobody really talked about it growing up - I didn't even know about true names until you told me yours, and so many things were going on in my head when I first woke up and I've always been Sorey so having a true name never really bothered me but when I did think about it I figured I'm probably doing something wrong and then I was embarrassed and I didn't know if it was against the rules to ask and-"

Mikleo lifted up a finger, sealing Sorey's lips and stopping his ramble, shaking his head. "No," he said, "This is my fault, I should have realized sooner. You're right, true names are a very private thing, because true names are given to us. The same way you gave true names to Alisha, and Rose, true names are given to seraph. They're one of our most prized possessions because of the care and consideration given to naming us."

"Oh," Sorey mumbled around Mikleo's finger, eyes wide.

Mikleo pulled back, covering his mouth. "I had assumed Maotelus had given you a true name when you woke up. I should have confirmed that before making assumptions."

"It's a natural assumption to make, I guess," Sorey said, looking down. "Can I ask who gave you your true name?"

"... Gramps," Mikleo said.

Both of them hummed at the memory of the seraph who raised them.

"... Maybe Phi can give me a true name when we meet up again," Sorey said, trying to sound hopeful.

"That's… possible," Mikleo said, thinking. "He could be waiting to see what kind of seraph you are, to give you an appropriate name."

"Is that what Gramps did?"

"I don't remember," Mikleo said. "I was too young." He had asked about it later though, during his training. Zenrus had explained that the idea of the enforcer came from watching him and Sorey play as children. "You always followed Sorey's lead, and you always defended his decisions. Those are the actions of an enforcer." He wondered further about it after learning about Camlaan, about Zenrus' dream of two children becoming a shepherd and sublord, if he didn't pick a true name to solidify that dream. He looked at Sorey, lost in his own thoughts, silhouetted against the galaxy of stars and snow.

"... I could try and come up with a name." The offer left his lips before he truly had the chance to think about it, and he stiffened when he realized what he said.

Sorey snapped to attention, elation immediately overwriting thoughtful melancholy. "Really?" he asked, exuberant. "Really? That would be amazing! I would cherish it for all time!"

"Geez, way to put pressure on me!" Mikleo groused, putting fingers to his temple. Oh, what had he just signed himself up for? How could he sum up Sorey into a true name? How was he going to do it?

"Oh, don't worry! I know anything you chose for me will be perfect - who knows me better?"

"... says the guy who chose Rose is Rose for a true name."

"Hey! In my defense we were in the middle of a battle - I didn't really have time to think and we still barely knew Rose!"

"And Alisha the Smiling?"

Sorey sputtered.

"You're bad at names," Mikleo said. "I'm going to have to do better, as usual."

" 'As usual'?" Sorey moved in to tickle his partner, and Mikleo let it happen as a corner of his mind started to settle into the enormity of the task. His heart fluttered at the assignment, and he worried - intensely - that he'd do a good job.


Training… was hard. Now that they were comfortable with slipping into the armatus, Rokurou was pushing them even harder. For all that Sorey's muscles protested about all the work being done, he had to admit, he'd never seen his skills increase so swiftly before. Growing up, his "training" had been a lot of play with Mikleo. A stick held like a sword versus a stick held like a staff. Growing older, as Sorey was able to start hunting prickleboar on his own, the seraph had crafted a shortsword that, for his height, was like a real sword. Once he'd found a ritual sword in the ruins, he'd been set. Between the prickleboar, sparring with Mikleo, and just understanding his own body and when a stance felt off, he'd gotten fairly far. Having Rokurou regularly beat him down, however, was something else. It made for more creative (desperate) thinking and coming up with tricks and stances he'd never have thought of. Adding on Mikleo's centuries of combat with a staff and the bow while armatized and it felt like Sorey's muscle memory was learning something new every day.

With Mikleo in his journals and Rokurou reflecting over his sake, Sorey thought he'd go for a walk, maybe go through some forms on his own (and maybe stretch, seriously, owwwwww). There was something about being out on the ice fields that was… spiritual? In a way? Of looking up at the vast galaxy above them in the longnight, the glowing snow, and the sense of open space that stretched for eternity. This longnight was perhaps the strangest occurrence Sorey had ever encountered, and… in its own way, it resonated. Like his long sleep with Phi in darkness. But this darkness had so much light. Twinkling stars, the moon, the snow and the occasional aurora. Even in the deepest darkness, there was light. Even when they'd been exploring the deepest of caverns, there was bioluminescence to light the way. It was the same in Elysia. So high up on the mountain, the night sky was always dotted with the stars, unlike cities where the torchlight made the sky hard to see.

Sorey sat down in the snow, stretching out every muscle group he could, just feeling the space around him, and the light above him. He could still feel that piece of him that trailed off, that piece that was a part of Mikleo, left over from their contract. That piece that he cherished, now that he understood. As he stretched, he also stretched out his senses. There was a fuzziness way further south that he knew meant a snowstorm, but no weather nearby that he could sense coming their way. He also tried to sense above, to see if another aurora would form, but he wasn't strong enough with his lightning to sense that. He was actually curious to get back to Glenwood and see what other weather patterns felt like, to see how the lightning felt when he was so far from it this far north.

Done with his stretches, he just leaned back, admiring the clear sky above him, once again admiring this discovery of something new.

He couldn't help it. He liked aesthetic things.

He took a deep breath and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Oh, that's something you don't see every day."

Sorey sat up in a rush, surprised, and looked around. Several yards away was a massive, massive bear, pure white, with barest hints of blue at the tips of the fur, wearing greaves, and studying him.

"Ah, hello?"

"Greetings," the bear replied, ambling closer. "I don't usually see other malakhim this far north."

"Oh, um, hi." Sorey shifted, kneeling more politely as Gramps had often reminded him. He bowed. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Sorey."

"I am Ursi. What brings you this far north?"

"My partner Mikleo and I were looking for someone," Sorey replied, then chuckled, rubbing at his cheek. "That someone is now training us, much to our surprise. With the spring, we hope to get back to Glenwood."

"Ah," Ursi lay down crossing his forepaws carefully over the armor. "So you're with that daemon?"

Sorey chuckled in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his head. "We didn't exactly know he was a daemon when we came. We wanted to find someone who knew some of the history we're researching."

"Interesting." Ursi leaned a massive head forward, sniffing. "Ah, you have that touch about you. You were human once, yes?"

"Yes. I was a Shepherd."

"Hm. Probably the Shepherd?" Ursi's massive maw twitched into a toothy grin. "Even up here we heard of a Shepherd who chose to take an Empyrean to purify. Every malakhim who remembers will know that that child Maotelus is a far better Empyrean than Innominat. I thank you, Gentle Shepherd." Ursi bowed his head. "And only someone like that would travel this far north, away from that child's domain. Malakhim rarely leave an Empyrean's domain. You are bold."

"Uh, thank you." Sorey bashfully looked away. For him, it was just sleep. Closing his eyes, tuning out the world, to just be. It didn't seem like much, when he stated it. He fell asleep. It was so strange to have people thank him for it. Really strange. Deflect! "What's your story?"

Ursi let out a puff of air like a grunt, once again smiling. "I wander the north. I don't much care for humans, unless they become malakhim. I don't need the prayers. Instead I track across these glaciers and ice, I find daemons from time to time and address them, and I listen to the animals."

"You sound very old."

"I am," Ursi looked up the stars. "The stars seem permanent to humans. They only see them for a short time. I have watched the stars move."

"Woah, amazing!"

Another snorting laugh. "I'd guess you have only recently awoken as a malak."

"Yes," Sorey bowed his head. "Almost a year ago."

The bear's eyes narrowed. "And yet, you are very strong."

"Heh. Like I said, training."

Ursi nodded. "You are most unlike the malak who come up here."

Sorey sighed. "Yeah, I get that a lot. But, you said you don't like humans? But you are interested in seraph-er-malak who were human?"

"Indeed." Ursi leaned in to sniff again. "Humans are messy. Humans forget. Humans are the primary beings who bear malevolence and their taint has led to fellow malak fading to dragons and then fading to dust. But a human who ascends to a malak? That should not be possible."

Sorey frowned, remembering how Edna didn't have much of an opinion on humans either. Even now, having an improved opinion, Edna still preferred to be on her mountain at Eizen's Rest, only interacting with humans who came to visit, as those were usually humans who came to pay respects. Sorey couldn't help but feel… sad. That humans like him were all lumped together.

"When did you last interact with humans?"

"Over two eons."

Sorey was fairly certain his jaw was down in the snow. "Eons?"

"Eons."

Over two thousand years? Sorey shook his head. "Things have changed," he said. "On Glenwood roughly forty percent of the human population can see and interact with the malakhim now. Humans and malakhim are starting to live together as they once did."

Ursi's face changed, brows raising, and lips pursing. "Truly? How odd."

"There's a human village, Meirchio, not far from here," Sorey said. "None there have the resonance to see malakhim, but there's a trail down to Hell's Way, the port. They have people who come through who can interact with malakhim, in fact, on our voyage here, there was someone who could hear us. She was able to aid us."

The bear stared for a while, looking up to the sky. "Hm. Perhaps I should visit humans and see how they've changed."

"There is no Lord of the Land here from what I've seen. If you would like, you could likely be one here."

Ursi's maw opened to the sharp teeth with a roaring laugh. "Still a Shepherd, I see." Ursi stood on all fours, then up to hind legs, towering over Sorey who scrambled to get up. "Human malakhim are fascinating. I will visit. I will observe. That is all I will do. All else depends on humans."

"That's all I can ask," Sorey bowed deeply.

"Interesting."

"Shall we go visit my partner?"

Ursi nodded, dropping back to all fours. "I wish to meet the daemon who hunts daemons. And this partner of yours, who is tethered to you."

Sorey stumbled again. "Ah, you can see that?"

Ursi chuckled.


"Form Six: Dark Vortex!"

Rokurou slid around the armatized pair, the vortex sucking them in and throwing them off balance. Blood racing, heart pounding, Rokurou never felt more alive!

"Form Two: Imbue Earth!"

Close attacks, slashing at their back, keeping them off balance, he was winning this fight!

"Borealis Blast!"

"What?"

Colored light of an aurora burst out of them, pushing Rokurou back. He blocked! Stormquell and Stormhowl crossed! But it pushed and pushed!

Balance!

He stumbled and was shoved back, no! He would win this!

Arrows of ice surrounded where he landed, lightning danced between them, then surged at him. Rokurou screamed, eyes focused on his opponent. Surrounded by water and lightning, it cut through him, making him spasm, palms loosening.

Even as the circle died away, he was still stunned.

No! Damn it!

They lunged forward, blade heading to his throat!

Control! Control himself!

The blade stopped at his throat, a killing blow held. He wouldn't lose!

"I yield!" they shouted, despite their clear victory.

The incongruity of it cut through Rokurou's mind.

He had lost, but they yielded?

It gave him enough pause, and they split, two malakhim stood above him, weapons on defense, slowly backing away, and panting heavily.

Right. This was training.

Rokurou sank back onto the ice. "I'll be damned."

Both malakhim let out heavy sighs and collapsed forward, heaving great gulps of air.

"You're impossible," Mikleo grunted, on his hands and knees, arms shaking. "You are just impossible."

Sorey was just flat on the ice, not even trying to move.

Rokurou got up shakily, still fighting off the small spasms from that last attack. With a breath, the malevolence he could feel surging around him dissipated. No more fighting, no more need to prove himself, no more need for that pride. "In a real fight, you have to deal with an opponent who won't give up or will resort to dirty tricks," he said, trying to shake off the spasms. "Me going all out, well, it's a mountain to cross."

Mikleo looked up to scowl. "Why cross a mountain. Enough time and weather erodes it."

Rokurou laughed. "That's the water in you. Let me guess, you also had a thought about a glacier?"

The water malak grunted and looked away, cheeks turning pink.

Rokurou laughed some more. "Still, the two of you have made incredible progress."

Sorey groaned. "We only beat you, what, one in five times? Maybe one in four? That's not exactly good percentages." He attempted to get up and fell back down.

Rokurou walked over, stumbling himself. "Percentages don't matter. Nothing is ever a one hundred percent guarantee. Not even death, as you prove, Shepherd Malak."

Sorey weakly reached up to grab the offered hand and with more effort than he expected, Rokurou helped him up.

"What you two don't realize is that I'm having to work harder and harder to win," he offered. He straightened, putting his fists on his hips. "It's a thrill sparring with you two."

"Wait, are we actually pushing you?" Mikleo looked up in shock.

"Yup."

Mikleo's face was complete shock, then he just collapsed on the ice.

"Mikleo!"

Sorey tottered forward, but Mikleo waved him away, just catching his breath.

Rokurou chuckled. He hadn't had good fighting like this for almost a century, when a wayward Shepherd had found him and tried to purify him. He looked across the ice field and saw the polar bear, Ursi, watching. He waved, the malakhim slowly lumbering forward.

"Oh, Ursi!" Sorey said, not-quite jogging over. "How have you been?"

"The humans have some contraption in the bay," the bear said. "They called it a ship."

"Oh? Oh! The ice has melted - spring is here! Oh, wow the winter went by fast. Hey, Mikleo, did you hear that?"

Rokurou moved closer, watching the two malakhim bubble excitedly about the idea of spring arriving and finally getting back to Glenwood. He smiled, seeing how smoothe their movements were, how much more controlled both of them were, how better balanced. The season had been fruitful if nothing else. He saw Ursi was also watching them, and he threw over a smile to the polar bear before joining the young malaks. "Better make room on the boat for me," he said, clapping Sorey on the shoulder. "I'm coming with."

"Oh, are you sure?" Sorey asked, green eyes wide.

"Sure, I'm sure," he said. "You two are going to free Velvet - and I owe her a debt that I haven't had the chance to repay. Besides, I doubt even a pair of ruin geeks like you know where Artorius' throne is."

Both of them stiffened, faces draining of color.

"Did… did you say…"

"Artorius' throne?"

Rokurou frowned. "Yeah. Why?"


Sorey was sitting in the crow's nest, eyes closed, senses out. Somewhere about now they were going to cross into Phi's domain, and he wanted to feel the sensation. Mikleo was at the bowsprit, also senses out, looking for trouble given their last adventure sailing. Rokurou was by the wheel, making small conversation, but watching the two seraph with well hidden interest, aware they were using their senses and ready for anything.

Sorey smiled to himself - the daemon was so laid back as to be easy to like, almost lazy in most things until it came to training or fighting. His insight ran completely counter to the aura, and both he and Mikleo had grown more than just physically spending the longnight with him. He understood, now, why Phi thought Velvet should be freed, understood what she went through and why she made the decision she did. His heart was full, more than when he had first awakened as a seraph. It was full of his love for Mikleo, Velvet, Rokurou, Phi, Zaveid, Edna, Lailah, Shepherd Astra and his partner Hino, Ursi, all the people he had met in both of his journeys. It was full of potential, hope, faith, believing in the goals he had and excited to see more of the world when this was over. He and Mikleo had learned so much on their journeys, both of them had grown.

Mikleo had learned independence and self reliance, learned grief and growth, and was a more complete person - Sorey marveled every time he looked at him. Sorey, too, had learned patience, solitude, contemplation - Gramps would be so pleased to see those lessons finally beaten into him. They were ready. Ready to help save Velvet.

I'm glad to hear it.

"Oh! Phi!"

Sorey's eyes snapped open, excitement trilling through him as he felt the soft shiver of passing through a domain. He stood, bracing himself against the mast, elated smile on his face. "It's so good to hear your voice again," he said.

You're still very far away, Phi replied. I can barely sense you.

"That's okay," Sorey said. "We're on a ship, heading to you. We'll be landing north of the Camelot Bridge. Rokurou said we're heading to Artorius' Throne."

Okay. I'll see you soon.

Sorey frowned at the wording - see him soon? But his pleasure at finally sensing his old friend won out, and he pumped a fist in the air, happiness bubbling up into a howling laugh. Rokurou as watching him openly now, but Sorey paid little mind as he made his way down the mast. "Mikleo!" he called out, landing on the main deck and darting to the bowsprit. "Mikleo guess what!"

"Sorey," his partner said, turning. "I thought I felt something through the armatus. What…?"

"I just talked to Phi!"

"Oh, wow, really?" Excitement started to fill Mikleo, absorbing Sorey's own elation. "That's great! What did he say?"

"He could barely feel us, we couldn't really talk much. But I was able to tell him where we're landing and where we're going. He sounded really excited!"

"Amazing. We should tell Rokurou."

"I already heard it," the daemon said, moving up behind them. "You're pretty noisy when you think no one is listening."

"Oh, sorry," Sorey said quickly. "No one here has enough resonance to sense us and…"

"Nah, it's fine," Rokurou said, lazy grin on his face as he fingered his chin. "It's entertaining to me, if nothing else."

Mikleo soured, muttering about not being anyone's entertainment, and Sorey laughed at the tease.


Author's Notes: The boys went on a date, finally! Even though Sorey is aroace in this fic Mikleo is his favorite person, aesthetically attractive and emotionally supportive etc, and it was fun to imagine what and aroace date would look like. We also lean into some of the game mechanics of discovery points and history explanation, as well as poke at things like dogsleds and square dancing and festivals.

We also finally close the winter arc with Rokurou, who FINALLY turns into our third party member for this excursion. Mikleo gets some homework and Sorey reflects on how much everyone has grown.

Next chapter: Sorey et all meet another shepherd, and an unseen plot button finally get's pressed.