The morning rose again, and Ciel's wounds were healed. The indigo-haired man rose from his bed, scarred torso and the mark of the contract that covered his chest wholly exposed. Ciel yawned and scratched the back of his head. His brow furrowed when he felt the sting of a fresh wound in his scalp. The Steel Cross brought his hand before him and saw that dark, sharp claws had grown over his fingers again. He turned towards the sleeping, white-haired girl who was curled into a ball on the couch.
"Hey, Lu," he called her, knowing he would not have to raise his voice to make her wake. "Could you pass me my bag?"
"Not if you don't say good morning first," she answered as her eyes opened without a hint of sleepiness. She was always like that. Her beastly eyes opened so easily every time that Ciel wondered if she ever actually slept.
"Good morning, Lu," he sighed before reaching out his hand towards her. "Just toss the bag over; I need one of those potions."
The demoness eyed his clawed fingers for a moment, tilting her head at them before she got up and opened the cloth bag at her feet. She searched it and tossed a potion with a thick, lilac liquid to Ciel's open hand.
"Thank you," he said as he grabbed it before pulling the cork out with his teeth. He threw the cork away and let the minty aroma from the potion bring a pleasant freshness to the otherwise stale air in the room.
He took a sip and looked again at the demoness as she combed her long, knee-length hair.
"You didn't hold back, did you?" he asked.
She glanced at him. "Was I supposed to hold back when I was being attacked by hundreds of Glitter soldiers?"
"You put yourself in that situation," he told her firmly. "I want to know why."
She shrugged and continued to comb through her wavy hair delicately. Her silence, however, was an answer in itself. Ciel could remember how excited she was when she saw the priest teleport upstairs and behind the snipers.
"Does beheading demons turn you on or something?" he asked her, but she did not react at all. "I should know that so that next time, I won't get thrown around like a ragdoll by the next demon commander who's gonna come for our heads."
She stopped combing her hair, and her icy gaze narrowed at him. "There's no way Berthe would've been a threat to you. The El weakens us more than it weakens you humans."
"That's exactly my point," Ciel answered before taking another sip. "We share our mana, don't we? You left me with nothing to fight that monster with."
Her gaze softened, but she still crossed her arms at him. "Fine. You're right. I should've held back."
"Glad we agree, but I wanna know why it happened. You're usually good at controlling those urges."
"The way that Celestial fought was unusual," Lu explained as she looked for her veil. "My curiosity got the better of me, and I'm sorry for that."
Ciel chuckled. "You weren't just curious. You were excited. Bloodthirsty, even. Way more than you've ever been since we forged this contract. C'mon, tell me what it is. I won't judge even if you admit he's your type or that sorta thing."
She turned around, veil in hand, and glared at him. "You should learn to shut your mouth instead of spewing idiotic speculations. I already apologised; what more do you want?"
Ciel sighed. "I would've died there if it weren't for the elf. You owe me the truth and an apology."
She seemed to clench her jaw tighter as she stared at him. The silence between them grew thicker, but her emotions still slipped through. He felt her confusion eating up his heart. Guilt. Fascination. The swirl of emotions that stirred her soul was indescribable.
"I don't know why I did it other than curiosity," she admitted. "It's not the beheading itself that intrigued me. I don't know how to put it into words, but…"
A grin briefly lit up her gaze, and her memories of the bloodbath she and the Celestial created floated back to the surface so vividly that Ciel could picture them in his mind, too. More memories floated up to the surface: battles in barren lands, luscious forests, and wintery mountains where Lu slayed her enemies until their blood ran up to her ankles.
"It reminded me of the days when I had the power to subjugate anyone who got in my way," she continued, still lost in her thoughts before she swept all those memories under the rug. Lu approached him and sat by his side before leaning on his shoulder. "I'm still curious about him, but I promise I won't put you in danger anymore, Ciel. I'll find other ways."
He put his hand over her head, lamenting that he could not ruffle her hair over her veil. "Like what?"
The demoness grinned at him from ear to ear. "I can get him to spar, or at the very least, play a game of chess with me. I think he'll agree before that elven girl comes back to guide us towards the source of those rat people."
Ciel nodded at her suggestion. He still had half the potion, but his nails had already returned to normal. Though the fact that he had to increase his dose to have the same effect worried him, he knew he still had at least ten flasks left. Now that the El was secure, there would not be many fights ahead until the elf came back with news from her Elders. In the meantime, he still could make himself useful around the base.
The biggest priority was a certain prisoner.
Aisha had already cried and yelled all she could when the sun had gone down. She was confused to find herself imprisoned as a Landar. It made no sense, but she had understood that the people around her would not listen to reason. Who knows when she would see the world outside that tiny, barred window that brought mosquitoes and flies inside. She had not slept – how could she, considering how hard the bed was and how bland her meal had been? – so when the purple-eyed mage saw a butterfly enter her cell, Aisha thought she was dreaming.
The insect fluttered its blue wings as it swirled around her room before leaving from where it had come. Dream or not, the purple-haired mage wished at least it had stayed longer.
Aisha heard steps and mumbling voices coming her way – three sets of steps, seemingly all men, judging by their voices. She decided to peek through the bars to see who was coming her way. The knight who brought her meals was a green-haired woman, so whoever these men were, they were not getting her breakfast.
The men stopped, and the mage finally got a glimpse at them. It was the Steel Cross, the Lieutenant, and the Captain. Though she supposed the indigo-haired man would surely see reason and be on her side, the presence of the other two made her uneasy.
'What if they're here to deliver a sentence for heresy?' she thought as she bit her lip. 'Yuria did say that the regulations around the El here are more strict, but surely the ritual I had in mind isn't heretical.'
Every Elrian mage in Fluone travelled to either the Wind Temple, the Water Temple or the Fire Temple to receive the blessing of the El. Aisha had secretly gone to all three temples to cure her problem but with no luck. Obviously, she had kept her failures to herself. Still, the Sanderian mage had come here to see if the El she had used to recover her mana reserves was too distinct from the Primal El. As far as she knew, Ruben's El Shard was as close to the Primal El as she would get. She had tried to explain it so many times but to no avail.
The two knights still looked at her like she was a criminal, but she found solace in the Steel Cross' blue eyes. He offered her a friendly nod and a smile that reassured her. He was undoubtedly on her side.
"Good morning," the Steel Cross greeted her. "Did you rest well?"
She shrugged, trying to hide the fear eating away at her every time she glanced at the two knights.
"I guess I did," she mumbled, trying to ignore the less-than-friendly stares from the Captain and the Lieutenant as much as she could.
The Steel Cross turned to Banthus. "It's like I said, see? It's best if you leave. The poor girl is terrified."
Lowe huffed. "We won't leave. I'm sure you'll be lenient with her when we can't hold you accountable."
"It'd ruin my reputation if I were lenient," the Lanoxian man answered. "But I don't think I can get her to answer any questions with both of you here."
Banthus sighed. "Lowe, let's do as he says."
The Lieutenant furrowed his brow. "Captain, we can't leave. Those two are—"
"Are what?" Banthus firmly cut his subordinate's protest short. "Fluonians? So what if they are?"
"You know what they do over there, Captain."
The Lieutenant's tone was low and full of venom. Yet, the brown-haired knight captain remained firm. He shook his head. "I didn't make you my right hand just to watch you hold on to an old grudge. Let's leave it to him, Lowe. We'll negotiate her sentence if it's too lenient."
The brown-haired Captain turned his attention towards the Steel Cross. "You'll listen to our concerns too, won't you?"
The Steel Cross nodded, but it did not soothe the Lieutenant's suspicions.
Lowe briefly cast his gaze down, but his hesitation did not show more than that. He faced his Captain defiantly. Banthus crossed his arms and kept his stern but cold look on his face. Whatever the Lieutenant was going to say, Aisha was sure the Captain would have a way to counter it.
Lowe clicked his tongue and hurriedly left. The brown-haired knight captain sighed and calmly followed his subordinate. Though Aisha was always looking for gossip everywhere she went, she told herself it was perhaps not in her best interest to discover the details. She knew some things about the war between Velder and Senace, but to see that both sides still hated each other to this very day seemed so childish.
"So, I'm just gonna ask you some questions, okay?" The Lanoxian man began. Aisha welcomed his new and, quite frankly, friendlier demeanour. Despite his slightly longer ears, the Steel Cross was not as scary as she had feared he would be.
She smiled back at him and nodded. "Sure! I'm Aisha Landar, a genius magician, and I'm fifteen years old!"
"Oh, so I'm talking to the famous granddaughter of Kuenbaran Landar?" he asked back before quickly writing down her name, age, and occupation in his notebook. "I'm very honoured to meet you."
"You know my grandpa?" she gasped, already excited to see someone who finally seemed to acknowledge the importance of her clan in this backward land. "How did you two meet?"
"Oh, it's a long story. I'll tell ya another day. You can call me Ciel, by the way," the Steel Cross explained as he finished writing down her basic information.
"Now, first things first," he added. "What is a Landar doing so far from home? It's not easy to cross from Hamel into Velder nowadays."
The first question was already hard to answer. Aisha tensed a little, but he looked to be genuinely curious about her journey. It did not seem like he would sentence or judge her. Most of all, he knew her grandfather. Ciel would surely not punish her for sneaking into a merchant ship after Hamel's Imperial Navy refused her application to leave the continent thrice. For every answer she gave, Aisha grew more and more confident that Ciel would get her out of her cell very soon. She was not afraid to tell him anything as long as it helped her find her freedom.
Once she was out of her cell, Aisha pictured herself returning to Sander and publicly undergoing the ritual in the Air Temple. Whatever reputational damage she or the Landars took from it would be better than spending more time in Lurensia with its dull, hateful people.
Ainchase did not know how to answer the demoness' proposition. She had tossed a wooden sword towards him, but he had not picked it up.
"Come on," she urged him, waving her wooden greatsword. Seeing her wield a weapon almost as tall as she was with ease was strange. "Pick up the sword, and let's get started!"
"Why do you want me to spar with you?" he asked, his surprise too great to make any sort of move. There was something the demoness was planning, or perhaps she was only being reckless.
"Because I'm bored," She groused. "You're the only one besides Ciel who looks remotely interesting to fight, so come on!"
Ainchase took a deep breath and grabbed the wooden sword at his feet. With his mind now cleansed from Henir's infection, the Celestial saw no point in rushing her execution. The goddess would give the word when the time came. In the meantime, he would do well to remind that demon scum that her days were numbered. He picked up the sword the demoness had tossed his way. Immediately, it answered his divine energy. The wood began to glow, and he instantly unveiled his true form to leap right towards the white-haired demoness. She lifted her sword to parry, but he easily got through her rushed defence, and his blade touched the middle of her chest.
She stayed frozen for a moment, her eyes wide as she took in how fast everything had ended. Ainchase returned to his human form, signalling the end of the fight.
"I win," he announced with a cold expression on his face. "Are you entertained now?"
"How could I be?" She hissed as she leapt back and summoned more of her power. She unveiled her full strength once more. As an adult, she was now tall enough to wield her blade as if it were an extension of her body.
"What happened to you?" she asked him as she readied her stance to attack him. "You fought better yesterday."
"Are you unafraid of the consequences of unveiling your true form here?" he asked as he, too, unveiled his spiritual form once again. The wooden blade in his hands transformed into a divine weapon. The energy within it burst through, reducing the wooden exterior to atoms.
To his surprise, the demoness threw her weapon away and began to approach him. Perhaps the demoness sought to provoke him. However, she would need far more than that to get him to expedite the goddess' order against her kind.
"I made a promise this morning," she told him as she approached. Each step was confident, yet her gaze was fixed on him, studying his every move so she could retreat if needed. "I will not hurt anyone, including you. You know, Mr. Celestial…"
She was now only a step away from him, and strangely, Ainchase felt his grip on his blade falter. It had to be a message from the goddess. He was not meant to kill her yet. She leaned in closer, and though her body went through his ghostly form, he could feel her warmth and her heartbeat resonate within him as if they were part of him.
"You're interesting. I would hate to hurt you," the blue-eyed demoness whispered in his ear before stepping back.
"Can't you fight like you did yesterday?" she added with a small pout. Her tone was far more childish than it had been only seconds ago. "Please, it'd be so much fun!"
Though the demoness' attitude seemed more childish, her eyes still gleamed with bloodlust. She was asking nicely now, but should Ainchase continue to refuse, she would do anything to get him to spar. He could picture her going on a rampage against the knights. If so, whatever followed would involve him far too much in mortal matters.
"You want me to fight like that?" he scoffed at the suggestion as he regained his human form. "I suppose that is the only way you would stand a chance. Fine, but we will fight with real weapons."
"Oh, that's fine by me," she assured him. "Make those blades as sharp as you can, Priest."
"Are you giving me orders?" he asked, amused by how her natural confidence overtook her words and actions towards her natural enemy.
The demoness chuckled at his remark before picking the wooden sword back up. "It was merely a suggestion. I can fight against anything you wish to use."
There was no doubt in his mind that she had most likely faced low-ranked Celestials and lived to tell the tale. That had to be the reason behind her attitude towards him. Though it was unfortunate that his brothers had not managed to kill her before, it made her far more intriguing than the rest of her species. Perhaps that was why the goddess had not yet given him the word to kill her. He had to gauge her strength before executing her.
She leapt forward, swinging her blade, aiming towards his ribs. Ainchase already forged twin blades to deflect her hit and met her weapon mid-way through her movement. Indigo sparks mixed themselves with a flash of neon blue. Demonic energy was clashing in full force against his divine power. He easily overpowered her and her sword dug itself into the ground. The demoness' stance faltered for a moment, giving him an easy angle to aim for her neck. Before his blade grew too close, the demoness pivoted away from him, summoning her gauntlets to intercept his attack. Her grip threatened to shatter his blade, so he had no choice but to step back. She recovered her sword and swung it back at him.
Her every movement was calculated not to finish the fight quickly but to provoke a counter. The grin on her face lit up her eyes with an almost playful joy. Strangely enough, Ainchase found himself looking forward to how she would try to lure him into prolonging their fight for another second. The dance of their blades grew faster, inhumanly so. The demoness had a delightfully unique way of fighting, seamlessly switching between her sword and her fists to keep him on his toes even as he, too, switched weapons from bastard swords to knives to halberds.
Theirs was a battle of skill and instinct, where the world narrowed to only the two of them. They sought every little hint that could help them predict the next move in the nick of time to parry and counter.
The Celestial did not notice it at first, but he found himself smirking when the demoness had almost pierced through his defence when her blade crashed against his halberd with full force. He suppressed that unnatural expression and pivoted his weight back to make the demoness fall.
Before she had the time to catch herself, he cut her weapon in half with one sword and pointed the other only a hair away from her neck.
"Enough," he ordered, his voice even and expression unreadable. "You lost."
He threw a cursory glance around them. Lieutenant Lowe and a dozen knights were looking at their fight. Ainchase spotted the characteristic purple hair of the Landar mage and turned towards her. The Steel Cross was by Aisha's side, furrowing his brow at them.
"What are you, girl?" the grey-eyed Lieutenant asked the demoness.
"A woman who was cursed by a demon", the demoness confidently lied before pushing her long hair over her shoulder. Then, she turned around and showed a four-pointed star mark that covered her entire back. It was most likely her mark of the contract between her and her servant.
"Can you see this mark?" she continued. "It's a seal the Church put on me and the Steel Cross I serve. Think of it as a last resort. Only he can activate it to kill me if my curse gets out of control."
She pushed her hair back to cover the mark and turned back around. She offered the knights a shrug. "I can't do anything to reverse the effects of demonic energy in my body, but I could activate the seal's maximum power again and return to a child-like appearance." The demoness tilted her head. "Would that make you feel safer?"
"It would," Lowe immediately answered. "Keep the seal up while you're within the base."
Ainchase was somewhat surprised that the Lieutenant had not asked for anyone else's opinion. What was more curious was how readily the demoness accepted the Lieutenant's order and joined the Steel Cross's side without a word.
The Celestial had not noticed the crowd around them. Now that it was dispersing, he counted at least thirty young men who had come at some point to observe their fight. Losing sight of the bigger picture was a grave mistake; he knew that better than anyone.
Ainchase looked at his weapons and the broken piece of wood in a patch of grass. A battle was only a task like any other. There was no reason to enjoy it, yet he had immersed himself in it to the point of forgetting his surroundings. He had immersed himself in the fight to the point he had smirked when his opponent had managed to break through his defence.
'How unsightly', he scolded himself.
Ainchase kicked the broken piece of sword further away and decided to spend the rest of his day meditating.
Aisha told herself that she was perhaps being too optimistic. On one hand, being out of jail was a blessing, but on the other, being stuck among low-rate healers and making potions for them was just as tedious as being behind bars.
She ground the Ruve Herb leaves, oil, and alchemy powder into a thick, red-ish paste. Her hands hurt, and she still had two more batches of potions to make. Her atelier was thankfully in a well-lit room. However, her joy at being free plummeted every time she looked at the magic-suppressant bracelets she was forced to wear. They were shackles, in all but in name.
She walked down the corridor, passing by the dorms of the female healers before heading out. She had to leave the potions in the healing ward before it got dark. As she made her way to her destination, she passed by different knights, though none she could recognise.
"That priest is really something else," an ashen-blonde teen with grey eyes said to his other two friends. One was a short, silver-haired knight, and the other had copper hair and lilac eyes. "He must've been a Steel Cross before."
Aisha stopped to eavesdrop, hiding behind a tree so she would not be seen. She had almost completely forgotten the fight between the white-haired woman and the priest. Still, she also needed an explanation for how both were so skilled.
"I don't know. I've heard that the Sun priests of the Order of the Golden Falcon train in martial arts," the silver-haired knight replied. "My uncle went to one of their monasteries in Xin before the war. He said that they can conjure thousands of light swords in the blink of an eye. He was going easy on her."
"Well, the Captain said he's a pilgrim from Hamel, so he can't be a Golden Falcon," the lilac-eyed knight countered. "But you guys are focusing on the wrong person. That cursed woman is too strong. She's a threat."
"She's strong, but she's not a threat. Come on," the blonde knight sighed. "I just visited Vincent in the med ward. He told me the woman and the priest dealt with most of the demon forces in the Tree of El. They exploited those beasts' need for bloodshed and made it easier for the rest to protect the El before it was too late."
"I'm just saying she could be a problem. I don't like how she was grinning throughout her fight against the priest," the copper-haired priest grumbled. "Do they think that fighting is fun? They could've killed each other or hurt us."
"I don't think they were fighting seriously," the silver-haired knight pointed out. "Did you guys ever get to read those tales of the Old Kingdom and their heroes?"
"Yeah, and what about it?"
The silver-haired knight chuckled. "I'm saying they're probably on the same level as the people back then. And if they are, they showed restraint. It was just a spar."
The Old Kingdom. Aisha furrowed her brow as she decided to continue her way to the medical ward. They were referring to the Elrian Kingdom and the Old Lineages, which was something she had not considered. The El Explosion was devastating for the world's mana. No one, not even her, could hope to come close to the level of the El Masters or Elrianode's High Clergy. Still, while the sheer level of power both fighters displayed was on the High Clergy's level, it left an even bigger question: Why were they so powerful? Curses and divine blessings were all affected by the weakened El. That was why one's inner mana could never be increased or reduced. The El Energy within all things – which depended directly on the strength of the El – was constant, for better or worse.
However, she had met an exception to the rule. The Ring of Mimir.
'Could it be?' she asked herself as she opened the door to the medical ward. 'They must hold the answer. They must! I need to talk to them.'
As she looked ahead of her once more, she almost jumped back when she saw a wounded recruit – a young man around her age with curly blonde hair and expressive, chocolate eyes – who also jumped back when he saw her.
"Oh, sorry," he excused himself with a small bow before stepping aside to let her through. He gestured with his bandaged arm for her to come in.
"Thank you," she said, somewhat surprised by his strangely polite gesture. Besides the Captain and Ciel, nobody even pretended to be courteous towards her. As she walked in, he followed her with his eyes, curious yet hesitant.
"Do you need something?" Aisha asked as she looked over her shoulder to look at him. "If you need a potion, you'll have to wait until tomorrow."
"Oh, I wondered if you'd seen a boy a little smaller than you. He's got red hair and red eyes. He's a recruit, like me."
Aisha's eyes narrowed. She knew who he was talking about, although she wondered why he would worry about him.
"I haven't seen him since yesterday," she answered. "Is something the—?"
She did not have the time to finish her question before he rushed out of the door, barely muttering a 'thank you' before closing the door behind him. Aisha frowned at his rudeness but ultimately decided that worrying too much was not worth it. Lurensians clearly had other customs, and getting used to them would be a boring yet necessary challenge.
However, his face seemed familiar. After she left her potions with the night healers, Aisha thought about where she could have seen him before. When she found her answer, she came to a halt. She hoped she was wrong, but that recruit looked like he could be related to Liam.
'Doesn't he know by now?' she wondered as she rushed back towards her atelier. 'Is he playing dumb? And if he really doesn't know, how will he react when he hears about it?'
Just as she saw her dorm in front of her, Aisha noticed the same blonde recruit wandering around the camp, looking for the other recruit.
"Hey, you," she hollered at him as she approached the blonde teenager.
He flinched before turning around. The Sanderian mage found his brief, fearful reaction rather odd. He probably was still afraid of the dark like a kid, but it was surely nothing more days of rigorous training could not fix.
"You're still looking for that little brat, right?" She asked him.
His eyes narrowed at her words. "He's not a brat." he countered, "If you're going to call him anything, use his name. It's Elsword."
"Elsword, I see," she echoed. "Well, the base is pretty big to search on your own. How about I help you, uhh… What's your name?"
"Wyll. How about yours?"
"I'm Aisha," she muttered, expecting his rightful anger to explode. She had already planned some form of apology but feared it would not be enough.
"Aisha, huh? Is that a foreign name?" he asked her, his eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity.
'Nobody told him…' she mentally concluded, relieved and puzzled at his ignorance of her actions.
"Yeah, I'm from Sander, actually," she told him. She was uneasy about saying too much about her. Helping him out was not part of her sentence, but it was at least a more useful way to make up for her actions.
Aisha looked around them and found the perfect chance to redirect the conversation elsewhere. "It's getting dark, so how about we get an oil lamp to light the way in our search?"
Wyll nodded at her suggestion. "You're right. Thank you so much for helping me, by the way. You're too kind."
His smile was a knife to her heart.