Chapter 59: Sharya Hansen's Future

"Runt!" Lars said, touching down off of his broom at the clearing where they so often trained. Alexis was waiting for his, practising manipulating the water in the crystal clear lake.

"I have one last thing to impart on you," the mind mage smirked, unsheathing his scythe.

Alexis spun around at the sound of Lars's voice, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. The water he'd been manipulating fell back into the lake with a soft splash as he hurried to attention, his staff clutched tightly in his hands.

"One last thing, huh?" Alexis asked, his breath steadying despite the fatigue etched on his face. "What's it this time, Lars?"

Lars gave him a sharp grin, unsheathing his scythe in one fluid motion. The weapon gleamed under the sunlight, its curved blade humming faintly with the aura of infused mana. Lars twirled it effortlessly, the weight balanced as though it were an extension of his own arm. Iskra, perched on his shoulder, tilted her head, her rose-and-pink hair catching the light.

"Control," Lars said simply. "Raw power means nothing if you can't focus it, and focus means nothing if you can't harness it in real combat. Today, you're going to learn Mana Coating."

"Mana Coating?" Alexis asked, stepping forward. His eyes flickered with curiosity as he tried to process the term.

Lars raised the scythe, the blade suddenly igniting with a vibrant pink aura as his magic surged through it. "Mana Coating allows you to reinforce your weapon—or in your case, your staff—using your own mana. It's how we turn ordinary tools into extensions of ourselves, amplifying their strength and versatility. This technique will push your limits, but once you've mastered it, you'll be leagues ahead of where you are now."

Alexis watched as Lars spun the scythe again, the pink energy leaving faint trails in the air. His brow furrowed in determination. "Show me what to do."

Lars smirked. "That's the spirit, runt." He gestured to the lake. "First, focus your mana into your staff. Feel the flow, like a current in the water. Let it coat the weapon, wrapping around it evenly. Too much, and you'll lose control. Too little, and it'll fizzle out."

Alexis closed his eyes, gripping his staff tightly. His grimoire floated beside him, its pages fluttering as mana began to pour into the weapon. A faint blue aura started to surround the staff, flickering like candlelight in a breeze.

"Steady," Lars said, his voice sharp. "Don't rush it. Listen to the mana. Feel it."

The aura began to stabilise, the blue glow growing brighter and more defined. Alexis opened his eyes, a spark of excitement flashing in them. "I think I've got it!"

"Good," Lars said. "Now comes the hard part. Maintaining it under pressure."

With a swift motion, Lars swung his scythe, sending a wave of pink energy crashing toward Alexis. "Defend yourself!" he barked.

Alexis's eyes widened, but he reacted instinctively, raising his staff. The mana coating on the weapon flared as it absorbed the impact of the attack, though the force sent him skidding backward.

"Again!" Lars commanded, leaping forward with his scythe. He attacked relentlessly, each swing testing Alexis's newfound ability to control and sustain the mana coating. "Don't just block—counter! Use the coating to enhance your strikes!"

Sweat poured down Alexis's face as he parried each blow, his movements growing more fluid. He began to weave bursts of water magic into his counters, combining the mana coating with his spells. Lars grinned, seeing the boy adapt under pressure.

"That's it, runt!" Lars said, his scythe locking against Alexis's staff in a clash of energy. "You're starting to get it."

Alexis pushed back, his determination blazing. "I won't stop until I master this!"

They continued their intense training, the clearing filled with the sound of clashing energy and the rushing water of Alexis's magic. Hours later, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Alexis finally collapsed to his knees, his staff still glowing faintly.

Lars stood over him, resting the scythe on his shoulder. "Not bad," he said, his tone lighter now. "You've got potential, runt. Keep this up, and you'll be ready for anything."

Alexis looked up, breathing hard but smiling. "Thanks, Lars. For everything."

Lars's smirk softened into something almost fond. He reached down and ruffled Alexis's hair. "Don't thank me yet, kid. Your real test is surviving out there. I'm just making sure you have a fighting chance."

With that, Lars turned, his scythe disappearing into a shimmer of pink light. As he walked away, he glanced back, his voice carrying over his shoulder. "Take the night to recover. Next week, we will see if you can hold your ground without me holding back. Of course, you'll get destroyed."

…

"I hoped I'd never have to come back here again," Sharya sighed. "Well, I have you for mental support, at least, right Oda?"

They were at the Hansen Estate, a large building that's imposing spires stretched far up to the sky. Oda and Sharya were stood lazily next to each other, the latter unenthused by the prospect of seeing her family again. The spatial magic user, however, was less confident.

"You realise that we're walking into a den of assassins, right. All of them are your family, most of them likely out for blood?" Oda said, his voice not betraying his fear.

"Don't worry," Sharya replied, waving a dismissive hand. "We'll be quick! Just grab my little brother Apollo, grab the katana, and leave! Easy smash and grab."

Oda raised an eyebrow, scepticism clear on his face. "Easy? Smash and grab? You do realise this isn't some random mission, right? This is your family we're talking about. If they're as skilled as you claim, it won't be as simple as waltzing in, grabbing your brother and that katana—what was it called again? Yultin's Edge?—and just walking out."

Sharya leaned against one of the estate's ornate stone columns, folding her arms casually. "Relax, Oda. I've done this before. Well, not exactly this, but close enough. My family is predictable. A bunch of scheming assassins who spend more time stabbing each other in the back than actually training. Trust me, if anyone's going to walk out of here with Apollo and Yultin's Edge, it's me."

"Your confidence is inspiring," Oda said dryly, his hand hovering near the hilt of his grimoire. "But let's not forget, this is the Hansen Estate—an infamous den of assassins and killers with a reputation for leaving no loose ends. I'm a spatial mage, not a miracle worker."

Sharya grinned, her sharp teeth glinting as if she were already savoring the thrill of the challenge. "That's why I brought you, Oda. You can teleport us out of here when things inevitably go sideways."

"I'm thrilled to be your escape plan," Oda muttered, his tone laced with sarcasm. He took another glance at the massive estate, his unease growing with every passing moment. "What exactly are we walking into?"

"Well," Sharya began, tapping her chin as if it were a minor detail, "my family probably isn't thrilled about me showing my face here again. And they're definitely not thrilled about me taking Apollo or Yultin's Edge. But I'm betting they won't be prepared for us. Besides, I've got you, Oda. You're the brains. I'm the brawn. We'll make a great team."

"Comforting," Oda replied, adjusting his cloak. "Alright, what's the plan?"

"Simple," Sharya said, pushing off the column and starting toward the imposing front gate. "We get in, grab Apollo, swipe the katana, and get out before anyone notices."

"That's not a plan, that's wishful thinking," Oda snapped, hurrying to catch up with her. "Do you even know where Apollo and Yultin's Edge are?"

"Of course!" Sharya said confidently, though she avoided meeting Oda's gaze. "I mean, kind of. Apollo's usually in the west wing, hiding from our older siblings. As for Yultin's Edge... It's probably in the vault."

"Probably?" Oda echoed, exasperated. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?"

Sharya smirked over her shoulder. "Dangerous? That's my middle name."

"Of course it is," Oda muttered, rubbing his temples.

As they approached the gate, Sharya reached into her coat and pulled out a small, cylindrical device—a lock-breaking tool imbued with magic. She gave Oda a wink. "Watch and learn."

Oda stepped back, watching as Sharya expertly disabled the magical locks securing the gate. The mechanism hissed and clicked, and with a low creak, the gates swung open. Sharya gestured for Oda to follow.

"Welcome to the Hansen Estate," she said with mock grandeur, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Please enjoy your stay, but don't expect the hospitality to be warm."

Oda sighed, stepping cautiously through the gate. "Let's just hope we get out of here in one piece."

As they entered the estate, the air grew colder, the shadows lengthening under the spires of the towering structure. The faint sound of footsteps echoed in the distance, and Oda's grip on his grimoire tightened.

"Sharya," he whispered, his voice low, "do you hear that?"

Sharya stopped, her sharp senses attuned to the faint noise. Her grin widened, but this time it wasn't playful—it was predatory. "Sounds like we've got company."

"Great," Oda muttered. "Just what we needed."

Sharya's eyes gleamed as she turned to face him. "Relax, Oda. This is where the fun begins."

Oda swallowed hard, scanning the dimly lit corridor for signs of movement. The faint footsteps grew louder, accompanied by the subtle scrape of blades being unsheathed. His heart pounded as his spatial magic hummed faintly around him, ready to activate at a moment's notice.

Sharya, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease, even energized. She cracked her knuckles and stretched her arms lazily, as though preparing for a light workout. "Looks like the welcoming committee's arrived. Typical. Can't even let us get five steps in before starting a fight."

"Sharya," Oda said, his voice tense, "are you sure you're ready for this?"

She shot him a sharp, confident grin. "Ready? Oda, I live for this."

From the shadows, a trio of figures emerged, each clad in the signature dark garb of the Hansen family. Their faces were obscured by masks, but the glint of their weapons—wickedly curved daggers and throwing needles—was unmistakable. The leader of the group, a tall, wiry man with a jagged scar across his exposed neck, stepped forward.

"Well, well," the man said, his voice a low, menacing rasp. "If it isn't the family disappointment, back to grace us with her presence. And you've brought a friend. How quaint."

Sharya tilted her head, her smirk never faltering. "Good to see you too, Edgar. Still playing errand boy for our dear siblings, I see."

Edgar's eyes narrowed behind his mask. "You've got a lot of nerve showing your face here, Sharya. After what you pulled last time, the family's been dying to settle the score."

"Dying, huh?" Sharya said, drawing her war fan from her belt and snapping it open with a flourish. "Well, I'd hate to disappoint."

Edgar motioned to his companions, and the trio spread out, cutting off Sharya and Oda's escape routes. The tension in the air was palpable, the faint hum of magic crackling like static electricity.

"Oda," Sharya said, her voice suddenly serious, "I'll take the loudmouth. You handle the other two. Try not to get yourself killed."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," Oda muttered, flipping open his grimoire. A faint glow surrounded him as he began to channel his spatial magic, creating a shimmering field around his body.

The battle erupted in an instant. Edgar lunged at Sharya, his daggers flashing in the dim light, but she was faster. Her war fan deflected his strikes with a series of sharp, metallic clangs, each movement precise and deliberate. She countered with a swift kick to his midsection, sending him stumbling back.

Meanwhile, Oda faced off against the other two assassins, his spatial magic creating portals that intercepted their attacks and redirected them. One of the assassins hurled a volley of throwing needles, only for them to vanish into a portal and reappear behind him, forcing him to dive out of the way. The other assassin closed in with a curved blade, but Oda teleported behind him, delivering a powerful strike to the back of his knee.

"Not bad, Oda!" Sharya called out, her tone teasing despite the intensity of her own fight. "Maybe you are good for more than just running away."

"Focus on your own fight!" Oda shot back, narrowly dodging a slash aimed at his neck.

Edgar growled, his frustration evident as he launched a flurry of attacks at Sharya. "You've always been a thorn in this family's side, Sharya. Do you really think you can just waltz in here and take whatever you want?"

Sharya's grin turned fierce, her eyes gleaming with defiance. "I don't think, Edgar. I know."

With a sudden burst of speed, she closed the distance between them, her war fan slicing through the air with deadly precision. Edgar barely managed to block the strike, but the force of the blow sent him skidding backward.

"You've gotten stronger," Edgar admitted, his voice laced with grudging respect. "But strength alone won't save you."

"Good thing I've got more than just strength," Sharya retorted. Her war fan glowed with magic as she activated one of her spells. "Clone Magic: Doppelganger Blitz!"

In an instant, three identical copies of Sharya materialised around Edgar, each one poised to strike. The assassin's eyes darted between them, trying to discern the real one, but before he could react, the clones attacked in unison. He managed to fend off the first two, but the third landed a devastating blow, sending him crashing to the ground.

"Stay down, Edgar," Sharya said, her voice cold as she stood over him. "I've got bigger things to deal with than you."

On the other side of the clearing, Oda dispatched the last of his opponents, teleporting them into a nearby tree with a sickening thud. He turned to Sharya, his breath coming in short gasps. "All clear on my end. How about you?"

"Piece of cake," Sharya replied, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. She looked down at Edgar, who was groaning in pain but still conscious. "Be a good little errand boy and tell the others I'm coming for what's mine."

Edgar glared up at her, his eyes burning with hatred. "You'll regret this, Sharya. The family won't let you walk out of here alive."

Sharya leaned in close, her voice a low, dangerous whisper. "Let them try."

With that, she turned and gestured for Oda to follow her. "Come on. We've got a brother to rescue and a katana to steal."

Oda hesitated for a moment, then sighed and fell into step beside her. "You're insane, you know that?"

"Maybe," Sharya said with a sly grin. "But you have to admit, it's kind of fun."

…

Sharya and Oda moved through the corridors of the Hansen Estate with practiced stealth, the only sounds their quiet footsteps on the cold stone floor. The estate was a labyrinth of shadowed passageways, ancient walls lined with family portraits, and the occasional glint of weapons displayed as trophies. But they weren't here for the estate's history; they had a mission.

Sharya's eyes darted from shadow to shadow, scanning for movement. The air felt thick with tension. The deeper they went into the estate, the more familiar it became. She had spent years here, training alongside Apollo, though their paths had been forced to diverge in the cruelest of ways.

"He's just beyond this hall," Sharya whispered, her voice low but confident. "In the senior council room with the elders. He's got the katana with him."

Oda nodded, his eyes narrowing as he kept a hand near his grimoire. The tension was palpable, the quiet before the storm. The Hansen Estate was notorious for being a den of ruthless assassins, and while they might be skilled, they'd never faced Sharya and Oda working together.

Sharya glanced at him, a grin tugging at her lips. "You ready to make this quick and clean?"

"As clean as I can get it," Oda muttered, his brow furrowing. "Just make sure you've got your brother and the katana first."

They approached the council room's ornate doors. Sharya paused, taking a moment to glance at Oda. "Just remember: I'm the distraction. You'll need to teleport us out fast once we have what we need."

Oda nodded. He could already feel his spatial magic buzzing beneath his skin, ready for action.

With a steady breath, Sharya pushed the doors open, years of bad memories and painful training coming back to her at once.

At the far end of the room stood Apollo, his back to her, his profile illuminated by the flickering light of the nearby torches. In his hands was the katana—the very same weapon he had been entrusted with all those years ago. The weapon that symbolized the cruelty of the family that had torn them apart.

Sharya's fingers twitched, and for a brief moment, she wondered if Apollo could feel her presence, if he would turn and recognize her for who she really was. But instead, his focus remained on the blade as he slowly ran his fingers along its edge, a strange calm in his posture. He had grown, no longer the reckless boy she remembered. But neither had she. She could feel it deep in her bones—the difference in both of them. The weight of their lives had shaped them both into weapons.

"Sharya," a voice called out from across the room, cool and detached. One of the elders, an older man with a thin moustache, rose from his seat. "Back to claim what was never yours? You and your brother have always been a disappointment. Do you think you can just waltz in here and take him?"

Sharya's eyes locked onto the elder, her face betraying no emotion. She had no time for their games. Not tonight.

"I'm here to take Apollo," she said, her voice calm but resolute. "And the katana."

The elder's laugh was low and mocking. "You're hardly in a position to make demands. The Hansen family is a legacy, Sharya. You've run from it, but it's never truly been far from you."

"I never ran," she replied, stepping further into the room. The door behind her clicked shut with a soft thud. "I just never belonged."

The katana gleamed under the torchlight as Apollo finally turned to face her, his eyes narrowing when he saw her standing there. It was as though a veil had been lifted. There was recognition in his gaze, but also something else—a flicker of hesitation, of something more complex, buried beneath years of training.

Sharya took a deep breath. She wasn't just here for the katana. She was here for him, for the promise she had made so long ago.

"Apollo," she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of every shared memory they'd had, every moment they had spent as children before the Hansen family had torn them apart. "I promised I'd get us out of here, didn't I?"

His grip on the katana tightened, but he didn't speak. His eyes, cold and distant, were a mirror of the man he had become—a product of their cruel upbringing.

"You think you can just waltz in and take me away?" Apollo's voice was low, but there was a tremor in it. "You never understood, Sharya. What we were meant to be. What I was meant to be."

"I understand," Sharya replied, her tone firm now, no longer hesitant. "I understand all too well. But I'm not leaving here without you. And you're not staying here, not after everything they've done."

Apollo's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing in frustration. He raised the katana, the blade catching the flickering light as if it was alive, a symbol of the family's control over him. "You were never meant to leave. Not after you ran. Not after you abandoned me."

Sharya's heart tightened at the pain in his voice, but she knew this wasn't about abandonment. This was about survival. About the broken promise they'd both made to each other—the promise to escape.

"I didn't abandon you," Sharya said, her voice steady now. "I left to protect you. I always planned to come back for you. And I always will."

For a long moment, Apollo didn't respond, his grip on the katana tightening until his knuckles turned white. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the war between the brother she had once known and the weapon they had made of him.

"Then let's go," Sharya said, her voice suddenly softening, her eyes meeting his in a silent plea. "I kept my promise. Now it's your turn."

Apollo's eyes flickered with something she couldn't quite place—something familiar, something warm, buried deep beneath the layers of training and manipulation. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he lowered the katana, its edge resting lightly against his side.

"I never asked for this," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely a whisper. But it was enough. Enough for Sharya to know that this could work.

"I know," Sharya said gently, stepping closer to him. "But we can leave it all behind. We can start over."

A sudden clattering sound echoed from behind them—the door had been thrown open. The elder who had spoken earlier was no longer sitting at the table. In his place stood a group of heavily armed Hansen assassins, their eyes glowing with deadly intent. The family would never allow them to escape—not without a fight.

Without hesitation, Sharya reached for her grimoire. The air around her shimmered with energy as she conjured a perfect clone of herself—an exact replica, a decoy. The clone moved with fluid grace, stepping forward and launching itself toward the incoming assassins, distracting them and drawing their attention away from Sharya and Apollo.

The real Sharya turned to Apollo, her voice low. "Go. Get to the katana."

Apollo hesitated for a heartbeat before he nodded, swiftly moving to the table where the katana had been resting. In one fluid motion, he grabbed it, the steel blade humming with power as he pulled it from its resting place.

"Let's go," Sharya said, her voice urgent. She turned to Oda, who had been standing just outside the room, waiting for his cue. "Oda, now."

Oda's grimoire flared to life, a pulse of spatial magic rushing through the room like a wave. The world around them seemed to bend and twist as he opened a portal, a shimmering tear in the fabric of space. Oda's face was taut with concentration, his body strained from the effort.

"Get in, now!" Oda shouted, his voice edged with urgency.

Without a second thought, Sharya grabbed Apollo by the arm, pulling him toward the portal. The assassins were still distracted by the clone, but they wouldn't stay that way for long. The moment they stepped through the portal, the world around them shifted violently, the Hansen Estate fading into the distance.

A moment later, they landed in a quiet alley just outside the royal capital. The cool night air hit their skin like a shock, and the familiar hum of magic receded into silence.

Sharya took a deep breath, her heart still racing, but she allowed herself a moment of relief. She had done it. She had kept her promise.

Apollo, still holding the katana, stood motionless for a moment, as though processing everything that had just happened. Finally, his gaze met hers, and there was something there—something that had been missing for so long.

"You're right," he said softly. "We're free now."

Sharya smiled, her eyes shining with something more than triumph. "We're not done yet. But this is a good start."

Together, they stood there for a moment, the wind brushing their faces, and for the first time in years, they both allowed themselves to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could finally leave the past behind.

A/N: The next chapter pretty much sets the scene for all the stuff that's gonna be happening, like chapter 14, so stay tuned!