Foes and Heirs: Segment Three: The Dangerous Life

SEGMENT THREE: THE DANGEROUS LIFE

"Never was anything great achieved without danger."

10: New Plan

For Daiyu, the morning couldn’t have come quickly enough. The sun shone from outside her cabin window, and she blinked in the startling light – even as she began to hear bumps from around the rest of the ship. Was it the others? Probably. It must have been. Suddenly slightly afraid, she rolled out of her bed – having taken one of the room that had an actual, physical bed – and crept to the door. The footsteps grew louder. It had to be them. It had to be them. She opened the door just in time to see Azura trotting past. She was saying something – Daiyu wasn’t sure what – and it helped her to relax. Yes. Azura was out and about, and it was just the people she knew and trusted on the ship.

Well, almost.

It was just as she had this thought that she caught sight of said thought’s… reason for being thought? Did that make sense? In any case, the girl that Loden and Iamos had brought back with them was walking down the ship’s hallway. She was wearing the same clothes as the previous day – various shades of white and grey, sophisticated embroidery, pretty-looking flats. She was obviously very wealthy, which was only made more apparent by how she carried herself. Her chin was turned up, as though she viewed the world by looking down on it. Her arms were by her sides, not stiff and yet not swinging in any sort of unsophisticated fashion. She reminded Daiyu quite a bit of the various… other well-off people she had met. It was disconcerting.

And it also made her more curious about what had actually happened the previous day. Loden and Iamos had been gone far longer than they said they would, they hadn’t returned with any food – which was a shame, as Daiyu had become used to actually eating regular meals – and they had brought this stranger with them. And where exactly had this girl come from? It would have been one thing if they had found someone off the streets like her, but this was… this had to be explainable. She needed an explanation.

After waiting for a moment, letting the other girl walk past, she silently made her way to the upstairs room, with the table. It was where, like, meetings had happened previously, right? It made sense for someone to be there now, if anywhere. Someone had to be planning to tell her and Azura what had happened soon. But what had happened?

Before her mind could take her to any of the dark possibilities she might have thought up, she focused on the sound of voices coming from the top of the stairs she had arrived at. One was feminine, and shouting quite loudly. She couldn’t really discern the others beyond masculinity. Trotting up the stairs, she was encountered by a sight that was either funny or scary. She couldn’t decide.

Azura was sprawled forwards onto the circular table in the centre of the room, lying on top of it on her front – as if she had jumped forward onto it. Had she? She might have. She seemed like the sort of person who would. Her arms were stretched out, her fists grabbing onto the lapels of Loden’s jacket. Ah – Loden! He was sitting opposite her, looking somewhat panicked, as the younger girl pulled him closer to the table. She looked up into his eyes with her own (presumably – Daiyu was behind her, and could only see her head rising).

“You have to tell me!” She was saying. “Tell me everything! I want to know what happened!”

Loden seemed about to say something to her, but then he caught sight of Daiyu, who had frozen at the top of the stairs, observing the scene. He gave a startlingly lazy wave with one hand.

“Hey, Daiyu.” He said. Azura’s head whipped around to stare at Daiyu, who began to feel very intimidated.

“You want to hear what happened, as well, right?” She garbled, tightening her grip on Loden’s jacket. Both Loden and Daiyu winced, and the latter held up her hands in what she hoped was a placating gesture.

“Even if I do, I’m not strangling Loden over it.” She pointed out, truthfully. “I… well, I’m sure that Loden and Iamos plan to tell us what happened. At least, I hope so.” She trailed off. Could she have sounded accusatory, or otherwise implicating? She hadn’t meant to. Hopefully Loden hadn’t taken it that way. She breathed in. She breathed out. She continued. “But we need to let them get to that… telling stage at their own pace, you know?”

“But this is big!” Pointed out Azura, shaking Loden’s jacket and pulling him back and forth. “There are four of us, and now there’s five! That’s a twenty-five percent increase!” Her eyes suddenly narrowed – whether in thought or in anger, Daiyu didn’t know. “Plus, that girl they brought back with them looked weird. What was she wearing, anyway?”

It took a second for Daiyu to grasp what Azura meant. “Did you mean… she looked rich? As in, wealthy?”

Azura considered this. Then nodded. “Yeah.”

Daiyu considered this. She had looked quite wealthy, yes. Like one of the people who would live in large estate houses or palaces, separate themselves from the rest of society because they were able. Now that this perspective had been brought back to her attention, her prime instinct was a wave of curiosity. If this girl was one of those people, then the fact that she had come back with the boys was all the more extraordinary. She found it unlikely that anyone would be willing to leave that life behind. What had happened?

“Am I interrupting anything?”

Daiyu gave a start and fell backwards – the girl was standing on the stairs, looking across the room with an expression of what looked to be schooled indifference, typical of the ones usually worn by people like her. How had she managed to get so close without Daiyu hearing her? Had she just been distracted? Her heart was thudding against her chest, and her fingers trembled slightly from adrenaline. She licked her dry lips, and forced herself to calm down. It was ok. It was ok. It was ok.

“It’s you!” Azura stared at the girl as if she had just confessed to a murder.

“It’s me.” Agreed the girl, walking past Daiyu – walking seemed too ungainly a description, it was like she was effortlessly gliding across the floor – and sitting down at the ship’s round table. She eyed Loden, wearily. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Loden rubbed the back of his neck as everyone’s gaze turned back to him.

“Uh… yeah.” He sighed. “The hyperactive one here is Azura. She’s our youngest. And Iamos’ sister.”

Azura stuck out her arm, fist clenched and pointed forwards. “Welcome aboard our ship!” Her mouth was set like an apple slice – upturned, with implications of sweetness. The girl, after a moment’s hesitation, reached forward and daintily shook Azura’s arm up and down, in something of a one-sided handshake. If anyone else had done it, it probably would have looked ungainly and awkward. The girl, however – she still managed to look refined. As though she were in firm control of the situation.

Loden rolled his eyes. “And, yeah, the other one’s Daiyu.”

“Daiyu?” The girl repeated, rising from her seat to greet Daiyu, who was hit with a wave of guilt for not going over to her before she had to rise. “A pleasure.”

She held out a dainty hand. Daiyu tentatively grasped it in her own, only to find it surprisingly firm – not only was her grip stronger than expected, but her skin wasn’t nearly as soft as Daiyu had thought it would be, either. A very faint smile flashed across the girl’s face as their hands shook once before the connection was severed. What was that all about?

“Anyway, this is… uh…” Loden trailed off, before turning to the girl. “You’ll want to do your own introduction, I presume?”

“You presume correctly.” The girl said, a hint of teasing in her voice. All of her emoting, Daiyu noted, seemed to be very reserved and minute. Not that she was as emotionless as she might have appeared, but she had to be supressing a lot. But why? What reason could she have had for having such a tight grasp on her emotions? Unless she was simply naturally unemotive. That was possible too, right?

“Daiyu.” A voice drew her out of her thoughts. “Azura.” Continued the girl, making eye contact with each of them in turn before lowering her head and speaking almost solemnly. “My name is Motokami Ame Miyuki. I am the daughter of Motokami Ame Ryo, the emperor of the Cheinise provinces.” She rose to meet them again. “I am a princess of this land.”

There was a silence for a moment, and then Loden grumbled.

“I thought you may have wanted to keep that to yourself.” He admitted. “Now matter how bad of a father your own may be – he’s still the emperor, and you’re still the princess, so action’s going to be taken to get you back.”

“I would gain nothing by keeping my identity a secret from these two.” Miyuki argued. “From strangers, I understand, but these are your crew. I don’t know how much time I shall spend here, and it’s not something that ought to be revealed by someone else further down the line.”

She may have had more to say on that matter, but at this moment her words hit their audience. Azura’s intake of breath was so deep and sharp, Daiyu couldn’t believe that her lungs would be able to hold so much air. Then, she began to speak.

“Oh my God.” She began to say, grasping the table and jumping up and down, several times. For Daiyu, it trod the line between endearing and unsettling. “She’s a princess she’saprincessshe’saprincess-” – she stopped, one of her legs still bouncing up and down. She indicated wordlessly to Miyuki for several seconds with her arms, waving them up and down in her direction. Her excitement was palpable, as though it were a physical thing.

“W – what’s it like?” She gasped, stars in her eyes. Miyuki seemed – understandably – a little surprised by Azura’s enthusiasm, but after a moment, she relaxed, and let a full smile blossom across her face. Which was odd, noted. Daiyu. Why was she now showing an emotion so openly?

“It’s nice.” She admitted, with the air of a parent or carer talking to a child. Age-wise, this may well have been plausible, but the illusion was slightly shattered by the fact that Azura was obviously the taller of the two. Nevertheless, she spoke in a maternal-esque fashion. “There are a lot of expectations, and a lot of people watching, which can be hard. But you get to see amazing things. And if you’re good, history will remember you.”

Azura nodded enthusiastically, head practically a blur as it moved up and down. Was she taking it all in, or was it all going over her head in the rush? Daiyu couldn’t tell. The girl seemed to be enjoying herself either way, though, so… oh well.

“Do people do everything for you?” She continued. Was she getting even more excited? Her words were becoming less discernible as they shot out of her mouth like cannon fire.

“So often that you wish you could do it for yourself, after a time.” Miyuki nodded sagely.

Was Azura even speaking words anymore? A high-pitched, excited, exclamation was coming out of her mouth as she jumped up and down. Whatever it was, it lasted for several seconds – long enough for Daiyu to wish that she could cover her ears without looking rude.

“…How are you here with us?” She eventually squealed. She was quite the sight, hopping from foot to foot as she stared expectantly at Miyuki, who was able to continue to patiently smile. What had brought on this change in attitude? She had seemed so… uncaring, before.

Miyuki brought one finger to her chin, in a show of thought. “Well, it’s a long story.” Her eyes flickered to Loden, and her smile grew a tiny bit wider. “I suppose you could refer to it as a daring rescue.”

Azura gasped again, turning to Loden and back to Miyuki. “A rescue!”

Miyuki tittered. “I am afraid that I cannot recount the entire tale right now. There are some pressing matters to be attended to first.” She leant forward, and stared Azura in the eyes. “But I promise you, when I have the opportunity, I will tell you the entire story. Does that sound fair?”

“…Yes!” Azura fumbled with her body for a moment before sinking into a clumsy curtsey. “…My lady!”

Miyuki laughed again. “No need for that, Azura. “Miyuki” is alright.”

“Okay!” Azura nodded to show that she had understood, before her gaze started flickering around. She began to bound towards the stairs. “I’m going to go check on the engines again!”

“Alrighty.” Loden waved her off. “Take care.”

“See you later!” Azura waved before vaulting down the stairs, landing with a metal clang. A moment passed – metal clangs could be heard getting ever-louder as she hurriedly ran back up the stairs. Her head popped over the top of the floor, from where she hit Miyuki with one last sunshine-y grin. “It was really nice to meet you, princess!”

“Miyuki.” The princess reminded, smiling back in kind as she gave a dainty wave. Azura nodded, then ducked down the stairs again. The sound of her footsteps quickly faded. Without the girl’s presence, the room suddenly felt very empty. Definitely a lot quieter. As she listened, Daiyu realised that the ship must have landed again – the hum that could be heard when in the air, which Daiyu had assumed was from the mechanics of the engines, couldn’t be heard.

Miyuki’s shoulders sagged slightly, and her face returned to one of indifference. Had it all been an act, then? Daiyu found that she wasn’t sure whether that disappointed her or not.

“Sorry about that.” Loden smirked as Miyuki moved back towards the table and sat down again.

To Daiyu’s surprise, Miyuki smiled again.

“Don’t be.” She said. “As a matter of fact, I actually enjoy talking to children and younger people a great deal.”

“Why?” Daiyu blurted out before she could stop herself – mortified, she slapped a hand to her mouth, but Miyuki didn’t seem to take offence at her interruption.

“Some of the most earnest people I have ever met have been children.” She explained. “No hidden agendas, no dark thoughts. They always seem to mean well, and it is refreshing when they do not take everything so seriously.” She waved a hand. “Adults are always overthinking matters, trying to outwit and double-think one another into submission. Children-” she paused. “Or maybe it’s not fair to call her a child. I don’t know exactly how old she is. But she has that quality of childlike wonder and innocence – at least, that is what I see. In any case, people like her say what’s on their mind. They’re honest, and kind. After all of my experiences, it’s…” she seemed to genuinely search for the right words. “Refreshing.” She eventually decided.

“Makes sense.” Loden shrugged, before folding his arms as he leant backwards in his chair. It was a precarious position, and Daiyu couldn’t help but worry that he might topple backwards, but he seemed confident enough. “You said that “pressing matters” needed to be attended to?”

“Indeed I did, prince of nonsense.” Miyuki declared, smiling at him before schooling her face into a more intense expression of experience. Prince of nonsense? Where had that come from? Loden wasn’t reacting badly, so… maybe it was an inside joke? In any case, Daiyu dismissed the issue. It was obvious that something more important was being discussed. “You see,” continued the princess, “I… well, no, I’ll start with this: thank you.” She faced the two (mostly Loden). “Thank you for allowing me to join you, or – at the very least – tolerating my presence. That being said…” She turned directly to Loden, now. “You were right. My father will try to get me back, and he will be relentless in doing so.” She sighed. “Which is why we have to leave the country.”

“Leave it?” Loden repeated, sounding incredulous. Daiyu couldn’t blame him. It sounded like a drastic proposal.

“Once we cross a border, we will be out of his jurisdiction.” Clarified Miyuki, extending a hand in a placating gesture. “What were you going to do with this ship? We could adjust it, or come to a compromise?”

“We…” Loden trailed off, frowning. Daiyu nervously viewed him, then Miyuki, then decided to speak again.

“We didn’t have a plan, as far as I know.” She confessed. Feeling Miyuki’s gaze turn to her, she flinched. “We… we used the ship to escape from a… from our village after it was destroyed. We don’t have any sort of plan.”

Miyuki steepled her hands together and leant back in her chair as she processed this, before leaning forward again to address her audience.

“As empty as it may sound, know that I am sorry for what happened to you.” She said, voice low and solemn. Daiyu nodded acknowledgement – Loden said nothing. “But…” She continued, “this does mean that you can leave the country. Technically.”

There was no immediate reply. She sighed.

“Believe me, I want to stay. It is important for me to interact with, and understand, the people of my country. But if my father catches me, this will have all been for nothing. He will take me back to Phek-Kai, and place me under heavier guard than before. This is my only chance to see the world.” She turned to look towards the ceiling, as though she were speaking as much to herself as her audience. “I am the caged bird that has fled the cage. Someday, I shall return. But the knowledge and experience that I could gain by prolonging the inevitable…!” She trailed off. The words remained unsaid. To Daiyu, at least, her point had been made. But the decision wasn’t hers. She turned to Loden, who shrugged.

“Don’t know if it’s our call, to be honest.” He admitted. “We’ll have to check with the others, to see what they think. But…” He stopped talking, and raised his head to meet Miyuki’s eyes. The two stared at one another with a certain intensity. “Miyuki, I get it. And I think that we can give it a try.”

There was no overstated celebration, and no dramatic embraces. But Daiyu was still able to sense from Miyuki a feeling of palpable gratitude.

“Thank you.” She dipped her head humbly, the power of the two words resonating with Daiyu and almost sending shivers down her spine. Loden, for his part, simply winked.

“No problem, princess.”

**********

Two hours later, Iamos finally awoke from his slumber. Upon hearing a groaning from the room that he had claimed, Daiyu wandered to the door and gently tapped on the metal. She was met with a sleepy “Yeah?”

“You’re awake, then?” She asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. As much as she wanted to befriend Iamos (and, to a certain extent, she had), there was still that underlying current of fear from when the had first met. How little effort had it taken to trap her? Could he do it again? What else would drive him to it? Granted, it was mostly irrational. She had discerned enough about his personality by this point to understand that he would never do something like that without good reason, and that he felt no ill will towards her. But there was still a small part of her subconscious that could only view him with fear.

“…Yes.” He said, before opening the door. He blinked wearily as he itched the side of his chin, where a thin layer of stubble had grown after days of neglect. He – he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Daiyu clapped a hand over her eyes as she felt heat rush to her cheeks. Was he okay with that? Had she crossed a line? Had she invaded his privacy?

“You alright? Didn’t you want something?” Iamos continued to talk. Either he couldn’t detect her embarrassment, or he didn’t care. She exhaled sharply through her nose, making a snap decision to bite the bullet.

“Are you alright with me seeing you without a shirt?” She managed to say without gabbling or choking up the words. She couldn’t see Iamos’ expression (still covering her eyes), and there was a petrifying moment of silence before he replied to her question.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

She uncovered one eye, spreading her fingers apart across her face. “Are you sure?”

Iamos nodded, looking down at himself before – was he meeting her eyes? No, not quite, but it was still jarring to see his gaze relatively in line with hers. He was, she decided, looking past her head. Not quite eye contact, but there was something notable – and somewhat flattering – about the effort that he appeared to be making. “I’m not really bothered by that stuff, I guess. Apparently, when I was younger, Rainer had to keep reminding me to put clothes on, because it wouldn’t… uh, it wouldn’t register with me.” His face visibly fell, and Daiyu winced at the mention of the old man. They still had no idea if he had survived or not.

“So…” She tried, awkwardly, to fill the silence. “Does it embarrass you at all?”

He shrugged. “I guess I grew into a little bit of self-consciousness. But people just seeing my chest doesn’t bother me.” He frowned, suddenly. “Wait, does it bother you?”

“Huh?” She was taken aback by the change in the conversation’s direction. Did it bother her? “I – I mean, I didn’t… I didn’t want to embarrass you, that was my main worry.” She stuttered.

“Does it bother you?” He repeated in almost the exact same tone, only he placed a bit more emphasis on the question.

“A… a little.” She admitted, blushing again. “But only because I’m not used to it!”

Iamos almost stumbled over himself as he backed out of view, poking his head round the door whilst hiding his torso. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok!” She gasped. “Really!”

“I’m sorry!” He said, again, before shutting the door with a metallic clang. Daiyu stood stock-still in place for a moment, unsure how to react, before dragging her hands down her face in mortification. Her toes had curled inwards inside her shoes from the embarrassment. She must have stood there for several seconds in a semi-petrified state before the door opened again. Iamos reappeared – this time, the purple shirt was slung over his chest.

“I… just realised.” He mumbled, now looking down at the floor (as usual). “You, uh… you wanted something, right? Was there… was there a reason for coming to see me?”

“…Yeah.” Daiyu’s voice was a whisper. For her part, she couldn’t look him in the eyes either. “It’s about where we’re heading next.”

Iamos sighed, as his body began to lose tension. She heard him inhale, then exhale. “Yeah, alright. Makes sense. I’m the pilot.” He straightened up again, clenching his fists by his sides as he rose to his full height, as though he were shrouding himself in confidence. He turned to Daiyu. “So, uh, where are we headed?”

Daiyu recalled Miyuki’s words. “we have to leave the country”, she had said. But Iamos wasn’t one for change – she knew that now, she thought. How would he react…?

She was jolted out of her thoughts by the sight of him staring intensely at her. His eyes were actually making contact with hers. A deep cerulean, like an ocean, they had an indescribable piercing quality. It was as though she were being stripped bare, removed of all secrets or lies, and her soul was in his sights. She shook her head to clear the thoughts. He was speaking.

“You don’t want to tell me.” He said, frowning. “Is it that bad?”

He could… tell? How she was feeling?

“…We have to fly out of the country.” She admitted. “So that Miyuki’s father doesn’t take her back.”

Iamos closed his eyes. For a fleeting moment, his face contorted into something painful, but then it relaxed again, and he opened his eyes again – though they weren’t looking at her any more.

“I figured it was something like that.” He admitted. “At least, I figured we’d have to pretty far to get away from the Emperor. Did everyone else think it’s a good idea?”

Daiyu nodded. “And, once we’re across a border, we won’t be under his jurisdiction.” She repeated. He nodded back.

“Got it.”

The next thing he did was to pull a fast-becoming familiar piece of parchment from his pocket, tied up in a bright green cord. His master’s map. Unfurling it to its full length – the size of a large scroll, or thereabouts – he held one end in either hand, stretching the whole thing out until it filled up most of his vision. Daiyu watched, expectant. Suddenly, Iamos said with such an authority and clarity that it made her jump:

“Map. Show me the quickest route to the nearest national border.”

A very faint scratching to be heard, like distant pen over faded parchment. Daiyu didn’t have a proper view of what was happening, but she could see dark shapes appear on the other side of the map, implying that something was being drawn on the front. What was happening? She stepped back, both figuratively and literally, to examine the map in a new light. Though she wasn’t sure what was happening, she believed that she could guess. Was the map… changing based on Iamos’ instructions? His wants?

Did it have something to do with the man from the village? Daiyu remembered Iamos saying something about the map, as though it were important. Then she remembered the fire, and then she shuddered, breaking herself out of her memories. Iamos was already marching ahead. She almost tripped over her own feet following as they made their way to the cockpit. Iamos wasted no time in sitting down in the pilot’s seat, positioning the map on top of some dials so that he could see it. Daiyu sat beside him in the adjoining seat.

“Iamos, are you sure about this?” She asked, coming to a sudden realisation. “You’ve been doing a lot of flying already, don’t you want to-”

“What time is it?” Iamos interrupted. Daiyu obediently peered through the cockpit’s glass at the sun.

“It looks like early in the afternoon.” She said. “Do you think you’ve gotten enough sleep, then?”

“If it’s the afternoon, then I’ve slept for upwards of twelve hours.” Iamos revealed, flicking switches and pulling on the wheel that seemed to control the ship’s steering. The Origin jolted to life. The hum of the engine returned – a constant, soft background noise. “I’m good to go.”

Before Daiyu could say anything else, Iamos tugged on the wheel again, and slammed his leg down. The Origin began to drive forwards before lifting off into the sky. As Daiyu clutched onto her chair to balance herself, she suddenly noticed a button she hadn’t observed before. Frowning, she edged her finger towards it. What if it was dangerous? What if it wasn’t? She pressed it before she could change her mind. It brightened up a colour, but nothing happened.

“What did you-” Iamos’ question was cut off as it became apparent what she had done. His voice should have only been in the cockpit, but now they could hear it from outside the room, booming down the corridor. If Daiyu had to guess, it would be carried all around the ship.

“I think it’s to let you talk to everyone at once.” She revealed, in wonder. Her voice, too, carried everywhere at once. The Origin, it seemed, still had surprises in store. Just what kind of vessel was this?

“Cool.” Iamos muttered, before speaking louder. “Okay, everyone. After consideration of a passenger’s requests, we are heading for the nearest border – once we’ll cross over it, we’ll be in an area called the “Icy Wastes”. Rough estimates are that it’ll be…” He frowned. “At least a couple of days.”

He glanced towards the horizon, and his frown turned into something lighter. A confident smile that Daiyu didn’t think she had seen on him before.

“But we’ll get there.” He assured them.

11: Hostile North

The wind was surprisingly quiet, all things considered. This may, she thought in an admitting manner, be attributed to the fact that she was inside the Origin – from the inside, external noises were severely limited, with the only sign that the weather was as bad as it was being the constant deluge of snowflakes pattering against the windows; a flock of angry snowbirds, waving their wings against the glass as she watched. Her eyes scanned the pale horizon. The ground was snow-covered, the sky was cloud-covered. The sights morphed together to create the illusion of an empty world, devoid of everything from life to colour. Of course, she knew that all she had to do was look out of a window on the other side of the vessel to see civilisation, of a sort. A week after leaving the city of Phek-Kai – four days of flying, three days of rest and finding supplies – the Origin had settled down on the outskirts of a snow-covered town somewhere in the lands north of the Cheinise border, collectively known as the Icy Wastes.

She bit into an apple. A pair of her earrings had been traded in for three baskets of them, and the cold environment had helped to keep them preserved – one of the baskets, as it happened, was buried in the snow outside the ship. She had initially feared that the crew themselves would suffer in the cold, but as it turned out, being inside the Origin was like being in a room with a fire. Part of the strange technology of the ship appeared to be the ability to keep warm its inhabitants. Whilst mostly a mystery to her (it was Azura, after all, who had taken it upon herself to figure out how the mechanics of the ship functioned), she wasn’t going to question the turn of good fortune.

A raven flew by the window. As she swallowed the apple, she stared at it for the brief moment it was visible. A pure black coat, flecked with specks of white from the incessant snowflakes, as though someone had immaturely flicked paint onto its form. Eyes the same colour as its back, mad banquets of darkness that it used to hunt. Ravens, she had been told, were the spirits of her ancestors, appearing in a physical form to watch over her. Had she seen any proof of this, technically? No. But she hadn’t seen any proof to the contrary, either – she considered her mind open to the possibility. She frowned. Auspicious or inauspicious, she wasn’t sure, but if that really had one of her distant relatives, then they had to be there for a reason. She resolved herself to being ready for whatever may have been coming her way, before taking another bite of the apple.

Her trip so far, she mused as she ate, had been quite the success. After arriving in the town (following an escape from her father’s area of jurisdiction), she had taken opportunities to venture out of the ship, and interact with the town’s inhabitants. It wasn’t as though she had been particularly short of options, to be fair. A lot of food was needed to keep five people sated, and everyone had been in want of some clothing good for keeping out the new cold weather. As a matter of fact, Loden and Daiyu had, just that morning, left to go and find some good snow boots for everyone. In any case, as well as being present for the transactions and handling of her belongings as they were traded for supplies that the crew needed, she had also taken the chance to talk to as many people as possible. It was a little jarring, so many new faces, but she had been able to adapt to her new circumstances, she wanted to say, relatively well.

The people of the north were definitely not cut from the same cloth as the nobles that she had known back in Phek-Kai (though that should have been obvious from the outset). Increase in volume and cursing aside, the extent to which they were willing to speak their mind was incredible compared to what she had seen in the past. Arguments were not drawn out over months through the use of passive-aggressiveness, underhanded strategies, suspecting glances, and – in general – nothing more than insinuation. Instead, they were often ended in the same hour they were conceived. She had seen two men break into a fight, at one point. Not any sort of duel with weapons, but a fistfight that had them both rolling on the ground in the snow and dirt, surrounded by a cheering group. After several minutes of this, they had broken apart, both heaving and retching and covered in blood, before wandering away, as though it had never had happened! She had been stupefied after this.

There were, however, the higher-class members of this town. She hadn’t seen much of them so far – understandably, the rarely travelled into the area of town where the people less well-off lived, and where the Origin had landed itself. They seemed more typical to what she was used to in characters, rarely walking on feet, but instead riding on horseback, surrounded by an unhappy-looking retinue. The rest of the town’s inhabitants seemed wary, which was worth noting, but she didn’t yet know enough about interaction between the two factions to know whether that was commonplace or not.

“Your highness!”

Turning, she caught sight of Azura standing in the doorway. The younger girl appeared to be in quite a state – covered in grease splotches, breathing heavily in the door. Miyuki leaned forward.

“Is everything alright?” She asked. Another time, she might have reminded the girl to call her “Miyuki” instead of “your highness”, but her visitor seemed rather agitated, so she let the matter slip.

“Come look at this!” She urged, indicating with her hand. Miyuki realises that she was clutching a metal tool of some kind in her hand.

“What do you mean, when you say “this”?” She rose, in spite of her caution, clutching what was left of her apple like a lifeline as she did so.

“It’s-” Azura paused in her speech for a moment, even as she continued to move. It was a tic of hers, Miyuki had observed, that conveyed implications of her mind moving a little too fast for her mouth. “It’s nothing bad, I promise!” She eventually managed, which only muddied the waters further. The phrase “it’s nothing bad” was one often said when things were actually quite bad. She was beginning to feel slightly trepidatious. Would an apple suffice as a weapon?

“Then what is it?” She prompted as the two strode down the Origin’s corridors, Miyuki breaking into and out of a jog in order to keep up with the girl’s quick and long strides. It was frustrating how, despite Miyuki being the better half of a decade older than Azura, Azura was still the taller of the two. She had grown used to her own height, of course, but still-!

“I’ve figured something out.” Azura’s voice lowered as they stormed through a final door and into what Miyuki had come to recognise as the room that housed the strange machines that kept the Origin afloat and moving. Azura had been spending a lot of time inside them, so it made sense for her to pick things up over time, Miyuki supposed.

“What do you mean, when you say “something”?” She pressed. Azura did not immediately answer. Instead, she crouched low and peered at one of the machines, giving Miyuki the chance to look around. There was a faint cloud of steam at the top of the room, and a large amount of dust and rust on top of the machines in a thick coating. Strange icons flashed with lines, and pieces of metal clacked back and forth in rhythm. Everything was coloured varying shades of grey and brown.

“This –” She said with a flourish, indicating to a small glass window in a large segment of machine, “is what powers the ship! I think. Maybe. I mean, it looks like it does from a certain angle, and I saw it one day, and I just kind of…”

Miyuki blocked out Azura’s words as she approached the window, peering inside. Surrounded by wires and other components was a circular object. It possessed a gold and shiny surface, and rotated slowly within its chamber, as nearby metallic components moved with it and forced the rest of the mechanics to move as well. It was, she thought, the sun to the ship’s system. And, starting with it, she could see the spread of movement throughout the mechanics as the engines softly whirred, in a sort of standby, waiting for the command to move from a pilot.

Gold trim aside, it looked almost plain for something that might have been so important. Whatever it was that powered the ship, she couldn’t help but feel that its relevance was a little understated. Instead, she mused as she stepped backwards, one had to focus on its surroundings to see the important effect it was having. Because it did seem to be having an important effect. She believed that much. Azura’s theory on it powering the whole machine wasn’t very far-fetched.

“…watched it when we were flying one time, and it was moving around faster.” She faded back into Azura’s words. The younger evidently hadn’t realised that her companion hadn’t been paying complete attention in the first place, and Miyuki played along, a wave of embarrassment hitting her as she realised her failure to conform to such a simple social etiquette.

“Yes.” She tapped her chin in a considering manner. “That does look significant.” She couldn’t pretend to understand the machine’s workings, but she had no intention of giving Azura the impression that she didn’t care. What would that do, she wondered, the young girl’s spirits? “How do you suppose it works?”

Azura shrugged quickly. “I don’t know, exactly. There’s a thing marked “fuel” somewhere over there, but I’ve been looking at it for, like, weeks, and it’s barely moved. I don’t know if that’s some kind of super-fuel, or if that’s just a key piece of the actual mechanics. Either way, I’m not risking taking it out. What if everything gets screwed up?”

Miyuki sighed and drew back, allowing Azura to peer closely at the orb. “Fair enough.” She conceded. “Though it would perhaps be a good idea to carry out at some point. Surely, we need to know what the ship runs on, considering no-one seems to know how long we shall be travelling for.”

Azura peered even closer, hunching over. Her grubby shirt was ill-fitting and torn, with one of her shoulders having slipped through the neck hole. She tentatively reached a grimy hand (the one not holding a tool) towards the machine, but then drew back.

A metallic banging. A few days ago, Miyuki might have jumped out of her skin, but by this point she recognised it as a signal that someone had returned from a reply one, and was now “knocking” on the ship’s rear door to be let in. Based on the strength of the banging, it was probably Loden – though it seemed to be quicker and louder than normal.

She could have sworn that Azura’s ears had physically pricked up upon hearing the noise.

“Loden and Daiyu.” She decided, before scurrying out of the engine room. “Come on, let’s meet them!”

Miyuki nodded, and began to stride towards where she knew – well, suspected – the rear door was. After a week or so on board the ship, she was beginning to understand where everything was, and how to navigate the Origin’s metal corridors. She heard the slide of the door, a moment’s pause, and then Loden’s voice.

It sounded very different to what she had grown used to.

“Azura,” she heard Loden say, “I need to talk to Iamos, I- I need to talk to Iamos and Miyuki right f- uh, right hecking now.”

His voice was low and urgent. None of the usual playfulness that she could hear whenever he opened his mouth. She could almost imagine the grave expression on his face. She could feel an uncomfortable feeling spring to life in the pit of her stomach. Something had to be wrong.

“Why?” Azura said back. Then, another short pause. Then:

“Where’s Daiyu?”

Miyuki felt a chill creep up her spine. The next moment, Loden was storming past, most likely not even noticing her presence. There was a stream of blood running down his lip, and a bruise on his cheek. His teeth were bared in a barely-contained grimace.

Something had happened, she decided wordlessly. That much was very obvious. But what exactly had occurred, and what had happened Daiyu?

“Loden.” She said, holding out a hand. He wheeled around at the sound of her voice, brows raising in surprise.

“Miyuki.” He breathed. “Princess.”

“What happened?” She stepped forward, with the intention of getting straight to the point. Loden cringed. His hands quivered slightly, and Miyuki noticed that his knuckles were smeared with blood. His gaze flickered down, following hers, and then met hers once again. His bright eyes glimmered with the fire she had grown used to seeing in them.

“Not my blood if, that’s what you’re wondering.” There was a self-satisfied smirk on his face for half a second, before it was replaced by cold anger once again. “But there’s no time. Daiyu… Daiyu’s been taken.”

**********

Loden was on one side of the table. Miyuki, Azura, and Iamos were all bunched together on the other side. A captive audience. The air was heavy, leaden with depression and anger. To Miyuki, it felt palpable, like a thick blanket. The silence ate away at her – at all of them. Eventually, it was Iamos (of all people) to muster the courage to speak.

“Give us the details.” He said, speaking softly, like a parent trying to get a child to confess to a misdemeanour.

Loden’s fingers tightened around the sleeves of his jacket. His arms were folded, defensively, and for once, he couldn’t meet any of their faces. “Iamos… I…”

“I don’t blame you.” Iamos sounded more firm, now. “I wouldn’t blame you for this. But I want to know exactly what happened.”

Though Loden made no effort to address the issue of blame, his tight frame loosened slightly. Miyuki suspected that he was quite relieved. “We had just- we had just been in town.” He said. “Looking, for, you know, boots.” He paused. “Like we said we were going to do. And then…” He sighed, suddenly. “Then, these… these guys. They came after us, all of a sudden.”

“How many?” Iamos pressed. Had she been in his shoes, Miyuki would have let Loden speak at his own pace – questioning would feel hostile, and interrogative. But (and she realised this with no ill will towards the content of Iamos’ character), he didn’t seem to understand a lot about social interaction. Yes, he was aversive, but he remained unaware of the small cues, and the possibilities and feelings, that someone like her or even Loden would be able to pick up on. Loden, to his credit, seemed to not be perturbed any further by Iamos’ questioning tone.

“…Three.” He decided, after a moment’s hesitation. “One went for Daiyu, two for me.”

“What happened?” Iamos was relentless. Probably, she realised with a jolt, he was anxious about Daiyu’s fate.

Loden shrugged, still trying to pretend that he possessed even a sliver of confidence. “I fought them off.” He confessed. “But it took a while.” He licked his split lip, and spat a globule of blood onto the room’s floor. “By the time they were both down, Daiyu was basically gone.”

Iamos leant back in his chair. Miyuki could feel the despair seemingly radiating from him. “Completely?”

Here, for the first time since his return, Loden was able to produce one of his classic smiles. “Nope.” He reached into the pocket of his grey jacket and tossed something – a slip of paper – onto the table. Azura grabbed and unfurled it, and the trio all read it at their own pace, taking in the information on it.

It was Azura who spoke first. “Auction?”

Loden nodded. “Nasty business.” His eyes flickered to Iamos and Miyuki – a message? – but Azura seemed dissatisfied.

“Daiyu’s my friend.” She declared. “Yeah, it could be bad, but I don’t want to be left out.”

Loden sighed. “Figures.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s an auction of people. A slave auction.”

There was quiet after his words. The discomfort in the pit of Miyuki’s stomach had returned with something of a vengeance.

Loden pressed on. “I… well, I had a “talk” with one of the guys I laid low.” He clenched and unclenched his fist again. “Turns out this town is well known for it – in poorer circles, people know not to visit here unless they want to be snatched up, and in richer circles, people know all about the regular opportunities to bag yourself a nice slave or two.” His mouth was bared in a snarl as he finished speaking.

Perhaps, Miyuki mused, that was why she had seen the higher-classes be observed with such wariness and trepidation by the rest of the town’s civilians. They had known something about this.

“So.” Iamos’ voice was low. “What do you suggest we do?”

She wasn’t sure who he was speaking too, but it was Loden who responded.

“Actually, I have an idea.” He revealed. Everyone else leant forward as he began to explain. “You see, I had a nice, long talk with my would-be kidnapper. Got him to tell me all that, for starters. I also got him to tell me the name of the place. Evercrest Mansion.”

Iamos’ brow furrowed, and he reached into his pocket before pulling out – Miyuki peered at it. She hadn’t recalled seeing it before. He pulled from the paper a lime-green cord, allowing it to unwind, and spoke in a clear voice: “Map. Show me how to get to Evercrest Mansion.”

The scene on the paper began to morph. What was once a map of the entire continent suddenly shifted, until it was one of the entire town – complete with them in the Origin. There was a deep black path that was pulsating and vibrating, emerging from the Origin, and snaking through the houses until it reached a large rectangle labelled “Evercrest mansion”.

“What the-?” She heard Azura gasp. “It’s a magic map!”

The map shifted again. Bright red text scrawled over the top, reading:

“Obviously.”

“A magical map with an attitude.” She mused.

“Yo.” Loden muttered. “So… so that’s why Rainer said it was important, I guess. Right?”

“Right.” Iamos nodded, before returning his attention to the map. “So, we… we know where it is?”

Suddenly, Miyuki had a thought.

“Map.” She said, leaning forward. “Show us where Daiyu Abernathy is.”

Slowly, a black dot faded into existence within Evercrest Mansion – tiny text labelled the dot as “Daiyu Abernathy”. Nobody spoke for a moment. They had a confirmation.

“What do we do?” It was Azura who posed the question that was surely on everyone’s mind. To Miyuki’s surprise, however, Loden raised his hand.

“If I may.” He said. “There’s, ah, some more information on that paper I gave you.”

Azura held up the page once again, hunching over as she squinted at it. “There’s… there’s a date here.”

“That’s right.” Loden sounded as though he had regained some of his roguish confidence as he folded arms and tilted his chin upwards in a satisfied sort of triumph. “On there, they’ve got the date for the next auction they have scheduled. See, the thing is, it’s an open evening.” He smirked. “They’re not gonna limit the number of potential buyers by making it an invite-only event, so they’ve made it so that anyone can attend. I mean, I say “anyone”, but they’re not going to let you in unless it’s obvious that you’ve got both the funds for slave, and the need for slaves. I mean. Probably.”

“And there’s our issue.” Iamos tilted the map downwards, his brow furrowed in a disappointed sort of look – only for a moment, however, before morphing into something more closely mirroring mortification. “I mean- uh, I’m assuming that your plan is to go there ourselves, and try and find Daiyu. Right?”

Loden performed what Miyuki could only describe as some kind of mock bow.

“Spot on, you beautiful genius.” He applauded, before pausing and eying Iamos shiftily. “But you said there was a problem?”

“Loden, we can’t pass for rich people.” Iamos spread his arms out wide, holding the map in one hand, to illustrate his point. “We don’t look like rich people, and rich people probably act in a whole other way as well. We have no idea how to do any of that stuff.”

It was at this moment that Miyuki felt compelled to clear her throat. The rest of the room’s occupants turned to her, realisation dawning on their faces.

“You forget,” she told them, “I grew up in the royal court. I don’t think environments get more “rich” than that.” She allowed a wry smile to form on her face. “Some of the outfits I brought with me will be suitable disguises, and some can be traded in or sold in return for ones that might be more suitable for…” she eyed Loden and Iamos. “…men.” She finished. “As for the mannerisms, the social cues, the hidden gestures and courtesies of a higher-class life? Well, I suppose it’ll be my job to whip you all into shape.”

Loden looked as though he were about to dive across the table to embrace her. “You livesaver.” He breathed.

Azura began to jump up and down, yelling something intelligible about princesses and parties and daring rescues –

Iamos turned to her, gratitude brimming in his eyes. He held out a hand.

“Thank you.” He said. Miyuki offered him a courteous smile as she grasped his hand in her own.

She stared into his eyes. “We’ll get her back.” She told him.

He nodded. “I know.”

12: Fear

Breathe.

In, out. In, out. In-out-

A rough hand gave her shoulder one final shove, and she stumbled forwards into the cell that she had been brought to. Her knees hit the floor, painfully. She choked back a sob as the door slammed shut behind her with an almighty clang. The cell floor’s moisture soaked through her trouser legs, mixing with the blood from her scraped knees.

Breathe.

Her hands were shaking, she noticed. She clenched her fists, suddenly overwhelmed by a shameful anger. Tried to get them to stop. But they didn’t.

Her heart felt like it was trying to burst out of her chest.

Breathe.

Her throat was tight, as well-! It felt like someone had grabbed her windpipe, and was slowly tightening their grip. She sucked in another small lungful of air. Her mouth was dry. Too dry. She licked her lips.

Why was this happening? Why was any of it happening?

She bit her lip, and forced herself to hold back tears.

Breathe-

A hand clamped against her shoulder. If she had had more energy, she would have screamed – it came out as a shuddery gasp. She violently jerked herself away from the hand. She tried to limit the movement to her torso, but ended up wriggling her entire body, and falling to the floor with an undignified thump.

“Easy-!” Someone said. Who was there? There was someone else in the cell with her! Who-what-?

…

She suddenly felt very tired.

In, out. In, out. In… out.

The adrenaline began to wear off. With a heavy heart, and a heavier head, she began to lean forwards.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Someone – was it the same someone? – held her up, stopped her from just falling straight to the ground. Despite panicking over the contact a second ago, Daiyu now had to resist the urge to just sink into this person’s arms.

“Trust me when I say that ground is filthy.” They continued. “There is a bed.”

She didn’t reply, focusing on forcing her throat to move and flex, removing the pressure. She gasped once. The pressure was slowly withdrawing as she calmed down. She shifted her legs, and stood up, breaking away from the other’s grasp.

Breathe.

Though she had many questions, she settled for the most pressing.

“Where… am I?” She said, looking around. She could barely see anything – there was no real light. She could make out the silhouettes of metal bars in one direction, and there was damp rock under her feet. Some kind of… some kind of prison cell?

Her question was met with a snort of bitter laughter.

“A total lortehul.” The person said, the distaste clear in their voice. “Worst place I’ve ever been, for sure.”

Daiyu turned her head to view the person in her cell. Another girl, she could tell that much. Everything was too dark to discern many details, though. She looked to be wearing rags of some kind? Probably. She certainly couldn’t imagine their captors giving anyone particularly nice clothes to wear, at any rate. Her hair looked to be… a shade of red, perhaps? It was also quite long, and obviously very matted and tangled.

“That’s… that’s all you know?” She did want to press her cell-mate (assuming they were her cell-mate – who else could they be?), but she just had to know.

“Basically.” The cell-mate shrugged. “I haven’t really focused on that.”

“Then…” Daiyu faltered. “What have you, uh, been focusing on?”

The darkness meant that she couldn’t see her cell-mate’s expression. She could only hear the wryness in her voice

“Giving these… people…” she spat the word like a curse – “a hard time.”

“I…” Daiyu, for her part, wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Right.” She eventually managed, feeling like an idiot.

“Loosen up.” She felt an arm sling over her shoulder, and flinched. Her cellmate seemed to pay her discomfort no mind, and continued to speak. “I mean, you’re obviously not one of them, otherwise you wouldn’t be in here with little old me.”

“Yeah, I…” She trailed off. What could she even say? “L- look, what’s your name?”

“Akane.” The cell-mate replied. Akane. Ok. Perhaps she should have been more nervous (or, at least, trepidatious!) to meet someone new like this, but she seemed to have run out of fear for the moment. Besides, there were more pressing issues than the terror of social interaction… right?

“Okay, Akane.” She said. Ignoring the rhyme. “Can you, uh, please tell me everything you can about this place?”

There was a sigh from Akane. “You sure you want to know everything, uh…”

“Daiyu.” She managed, in a rush. “My name is Daiyu.”

“Die-you.” Akane muttered, testing how the name sounded on her tongue. “Ok, well, let me give you the lortehul talk.”

“What does “lortehul” mean?” Daiyu blurted, before clapping a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to interrupt. How would Akane take it? She anxiously glanced off to the side, to see her cell-mate sniggering to herself.

“You don’t want to know, pige.” She told her. “Just trust me.”

Daiyu was burning to know, but kept her mouth shut out of fear of affronting her only companion. After a moment’s pause, Akane began to speak again.

“Anyways, welcome to the lortehul.” She said, doing something with her hands. What was it? Daiyu couldn’t tell. She squinted some more. She was twirling a lock of hair in her hands. Oh, that’s what it was. “A place of… well, of nothing good, basically.” Oh, Akane was still talking. She focused again, embarrassed by her easy distraction. “You are probably here because you were kidnapped or something. Well, the good news is that the kidnapping was nothing personal. You haven’t done anything wrong, or, like, offended anyone. You were just unlucky.”

Daiyu nodded, frowning. One of her thoughts, in all honesty, had been that this was all to do with law enforcement. It was a slight relief – only very slight, but still – to learn that she wasn’t a criminal now, on top of everything else.

“The bad news?” Akane continued, probably relishing the chance to have someone to talk to. How long had she been in here? Daiyu was almost afraid to find out. “You’ve been taken by slavers. These people will kidnap you, wear you down for a bit, and turn you into a slave to be sold at an auction. You’ve got anything from days to months before they decide you’d make a good sale.”

“Slavery?” Daiyu’s blood ran cold. “Isn’t there any way we could escape?”

“I’ve been thinking about that, myself.” Akane admitted, turning her head to stare upwards at the cell’s ceiling. “But it won’t work.” She faced Daiyu again, who could almost see the light in her eyes. “On top of everything else, these guys use magic.”

“Magic?” Repeated Daiyu. Akane’s eyes rolled.

“Stop repeating everything I’m saying! Yes, magic!” She snapped. Daiyu reeled back, wincing. Now she had blown it. But Akane continued to explain, voice lowering to an almost-whisper. “Look, I don’t know all the details. But whenever a slave is bought, they head down there-” she pointed out of their cell, down the corridor. “And they… they do something to them. I don’t know what except that it’s magic, but the people they take down there are put through some kind of freaky ritual before being sent off with their masters. And believe me, I want to escape, but I have no idea what kind of magic they use. For all I know, these guys have the power to curse me for a thousand lifetimes or something. Besides, there’s still this mess of tunnels – and armed guards – to deal with. Much as I hate to say it, your best course of action is probably… I don’t know. Whatever you want to do before being taken away forever.”

Daiyu crawled to the bars, craning her neck to try and see down the corridor. She couldn’t. It was too long. Instead, she could see two walls of iron bars, and several shadowy shapes shifting in the darkness. She felt sick. How many people were down here?

“It’s a long kind of ritual, whatever they do.” Akane was still speaking. “Lot of words in languages I don’t understand. But once they finish, that’s it.”

“That’s it?” Echoed Daiyu. Akane paused for a moment – finger on chin – before shrugging, apologetically.

“Well, most people scream.”

She flinched.

Blinking several times, she tried to focus on what little she could see. Her vision began to blur at hot tears trickled out of her eyes. Another wave of fear hit her, and she felt herself physically rock backwards. Shaking. Shaking.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe-!

“Lort.” Akane approached, then stopped. At least, Daiyu thought she could see her approaching. She wasn’t sure, and she- she wasn’t in a position to trust her senses, surely. “I’m sorry, Daiyu. I shouldn’t be so…” She trailed off, snapping her fingers. “What is the word? Ligesom afslappet… uh, flippant? Flippant. Yes.”

In, out. In, out.

Daiyu said nothing.

What could she say, anyway? What good were words?

Akane waited for a moment longer before speaking. “This is a bad situation. I know. I’m sorry. I’m used to it by now, so I feel more… more, uh comfortable with it.” She laughed what was probably the most humourless laugh Daiyu had ever heard. “As twisted at that may sound.” But the laugh faded, and her face twisted into one of strained sympathy. “But this is all new and scary for you. I’m sorry.”

Breathe.

“S’alright.” Daiyu muttered, feeling the shock wear off again. Whenever the panic faded, she was left with a feeling of helplessness and tired-ness. Like all of her energy was sapped away by the fear. The panic.

It made her feel so… inadequate.

“The fault is mine.” Admitted Akane, sitting on one of the beds chained to the wall. “So, let’s not talk about that anymore.” She sighed. “Let’s talk about something else, if you want?”

The question echoed throughout the cell for several seconds, which gave Daiyu enough time to wonder why no-one else was talking in any of the cells. They should have been able to hear and speak, right…? She shook her head (and immediately regretted it as a feeling of dizziness washed over her) to clear it of those thoughts. Focus on one thing at a time. She panted. The floor was cold, the bars were cold against her back, Akane was sitting on the bed. She focused on grounding herself, bringing herself back to reality. The underground air was warm and humid against her skin, and smelt vaguely of clay.

“Yes.” She managed to say. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay.” Akane seemed to brighten up a little at the idea. Daiyu saw her body perk up slightly, saw her sit a little straighter. “What do you have in mind?”

Nothing immediately came to mind. Immediately.

“Akane.” Daiyu eventually ventured after a few moments of pensiveness. “How do you… how do you stay positive, in situations like this?”

“How?” Akane laughed slightly, and Daiyu felt another rush of panic. Was that a stupid question? Then her cell-mate started to speak.

“I myself do not know.” Said Akane, leaning back against the wall. “I think… I think everyone deals with fear in a different way. My way of coping is jokes. Is humour. I use it to hide my fear.”

Daiyu wanted to take comfort from what Akane was saying, but could only feel herself becoming more depressed. Was her panic, her helplessness- was it how she dealt with fear? She could feel her brow furrowing at this. She couldn’t even handle her fear right.

She felt pathetic.

“Besides,” Akane continued, doubtlessly unaware of Daiyu’s inner turmoil, “I have no specific fear of this. I mean, the whole situation is bad. Yes. But it is not a personal dread, or fear, of mine. There is a saying where I come from: et brændt barn frygter ilden, og et bittet barn frygter hunden.” Daiyu must have looked confused, because Akane sniggered, and spoke again. “It means, uh, the burnt child fears fire, and the bitten child fears the dog.” Her face fell, but instead of fear, Daiyu could see a sort of grit. A determination. “It is true. I am the bitten child, and I fear the dog.” She suddenly spread her arms wide. “But I see no dogs here. So, I am less afraid.” She turned to face Daiyu. “Do you get it?”

It took Daiyu a moment, but then it hit her, what Akane was essentially saying.

“So… it could be worse?” She ventured. Akane shrugged.

“Sort of.” She turned to face Daiyu. “What is your biggest fear, Daiyu? What are you the most scared of? What haunts you when you are alone in darkness?”

It took Daiyu a moment to decide. If only because the thought scared her.

“…Fire.” She confessed. Rather than provide any sort of condolences, Akane laughed again. Logically, Daiyu should have been insulted by Akane’s lack of sympathetic reaction. However, she couldn’t help but feel slightly uplifted.

“Then you are the burnt child!” She grinned. “You and me, burnt and bitten.” She let her laughter trail off, before pointedly looking around in the cell. “But look around, pige. Do you see any fire?”

There was no fire in the cell, no. There were, Daiyu conceded, burning torches outside. But that was okay. The lights were small, and covered by with a metal grating around the flame, and they were helping her to see anyway. They did not resemble the wave of orange light and heat that still haunted her dreams, still made her leg ache. Still made her tremble with fear.

“No.” She said, before realising how stupid she must have sounded, with the torches outside. “I mean-! Nothing, uh, bad. Nothing bad. Nothing scary.”

Akane nodded sagely. “So. You are here with me. It is dark. And the future is uncertain.” She grinned. “But close your eyes and imagine that fire, Daiyu. Imagine it closing around you, turning you to ash, blowing you away on the wind.”

Daiyu found that she could, vividly. She could feel the hair standing up on her neck, she could-!

Breathe.

“And open your eyes.”

Daiyu opened her eyes and looked around. Everything seemed a lot darker than it had before. She found it comforting.

“There is no great fire.” Akane finished. “And doesn’t that just fill you with relief?”

It was… a bizarre coping mechanism, to be fair. Conjuring up some greater fear or dread, to make her current predicament seem less significant. However, Daiyu mused, there had to be something to it. She honestly felt a little better.

“I wouldn’t say “fills”,” she confessed. “But… I do feel better now.” She turned to face her cell-mate. “Thank you, Akane.”

“You’re welcome, Daiyu.” Akane smirked. “Come on, let’s find another way to pass the time. Know any good stories?”

Daiyu tapped her lip, thoughtfully, trying to think back through her life’s experiences. Funnily enough, it was something recent that eventually came to mind.

“Well, a strange thing happened to two friends of mine recently.” She said, cautiously, but warming up to the role of storyteller as she spoke. “They went out to buy groceries, and came back with, uh, a princess.”

Akane laughed raucously, the sound echoing throughout the corridor. Could Daiyu hear, she wondered, more than another voice laugh? There seemed to be other people in cells. Rather than the possibility of a larger audience daunting her, it instead filled her with confidence.

“Go on, go on!” Akane clapped her hands, rubbing them together like a satisfied rodent. “How did this happen?”

Daiyu struggled to recall the details that Iamos, Miyuki, and Loden had each let slip over the past few days.

“Well, I believe it started when these friends of mine didn’t bend the knee when they really should have…”

13: Evercrest Mansion

“Chin up.” Miyuki scolded for what had to be the dozenth time. “Iamos, you can’t stare at the floor while you walk.”

By this point, Iamos seemed to had given up even arguing. He grunted in a dissenting manner, obediently sticking his chin up in the air.

“Too far.” She said, indicating his face with a fan. “Now it looks like you find the ceiling more interesting than anything else happening around you.”

“How appropriate.” Iamos muttered. Loden chuckled, even as Miyuki shot him an evil glare. He couldn’t help it. This was priceless.

Having finished his own “training”, if it could be called that, with Miyuki hours ago, Loden was busy amusing himself by watching her struggle to get Iamos to conform to high-class social convention. It was going about as well as he had expected it to go, and he definitely felt bad for both parties involved, but… it was also a decent laugh.

“We’re doing this for Daiyu, remember?” Miyuki reminded him, sounding as exasperated as Loden had ever heard her. “We have to look the part, so that we can stay long enough to find her.”

Iamos sighed, his head falling low again. “I just can’t understand the logic-”

“Alright, but I can put it to you in a logical manner if you so wish.” Miyuki told him as she eyed his body position, poking his arm to indicate that he had to remove it from his pocket. He did so in a manner that couldn’t have been described as anything more or less than begrudging.

“Please.” He nodded. Loden nodded approval from the sidelines. That was, he had observed over time (if he didn’t know Iamos well, who did he know?), a prominent feature of Iamos and his psyche. He had to understand the logic, or the reasoning, behind something before he could do it. If no-one gave him a good reason for doing anything, he wouldn’t do it. And if he thought that a rule was stupid, and didn’t make sense… Loden involuntarily shuddered as he remember the times he had had to bail Iamos out of trouble, in that regard.

“Well, looking down implies that you’re unconfident.” Miyuki explained. “It implies that you’re insecure, that you don’t know what you’re doing, that you’re not happy with your position. And someone high-born has a lot less reason to look down than everyone else.”

“I’m sure they have their reasons.” Iamos muttered, darkly. Miyuki actually rolled her eyes at that.

“They do, but they don’t show it. They’re not as readable in their body language as you are. And we don’t want to take any chances with this, do we?”

Iamos said nothing. He forced his head to raise.

“So now you’re staring apathetically forwards, instead of apathetically downwards.” Loden pointed out, before shrugging. “I mean, that technically counts as a victory, but you still look too much like a waxwork.”

“Loden has a point.” Affrontingly, Miyuki looked displeased with the words leaving her mouth. What was wrong with the idea of him being right? “Forgive me, but you’re going to have to make eye contact with people.”

Iamos let out a drawn-out sigh. Miyuki, for her part, seemed to show considerable restraint by not sighing herself, before continuing to talk.

“I know it’s horrible and sensitive and it feels revealing and intimate.” She declared, moving around so that she could keep looking directly at Iamos as he tried to tilt his head away from her. Trying to establish something like that connection with him. As an example? Loden wasn’t sure. It was only after he began to look up again that she cut her losses, and continued to speak without making that oh-so-important eye contact. “Iamos. I wouldn’t dare suggest that you have to make constant eye contact with anyone. But if someone talks to you…” She trailed off, suddenly snapping her fingers. “If someone talks to you, all you have to do is find out their eye colour. Okay?”

Iamos moved to face her again. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.” She nodded. “A couple of moments is enough time to not be rude, and you get something to focus on for a bit.”

Well, now. Loden had to hand it to her – the princess was sharp. Quite good at getting people to do things, as well, which probably came in handy for a royal. Though, to be fair, Loden had known that since their very first meeting. He would have continued daydreaming further (and doubtlessly have enjoyed himself doing it), but was shaken out of his thoughts by Miyuki saying something quite loudly.

“And where has Azura gone?”

Good point, Loden had to admit as he pushed off from the wall to properly focus on his surroundings. Where had the little gremlin run off to?

“Azura!” Called Iamos. A moment of silence – then the unmistakable stumble of pubescent feet. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as Azura tottered into view, though that relief quickly morphed into… some fun bag mix of curiosity, humour, and irritation. Probably. It was a weird emotion, whatever the name was.

“This is so cool.” She breathed, already decked out in one of the dresses that Miyuki had had to spare. Admittedly, she didn’t look terrible (in that, formality-wise, she didn’t look like a complete mess). The dress had been designed to be flowing, so Azura’s extra inches in height compared to Miyuki weren’t really an issue. Just less flow. No biggie, right?

In any case, the dress fit decently, which was good. It looked pretty good, too. Nice and fancy and gaudy, with the main fabric being a light blue… turquoise… aqua… sort of colour, and thick gold trims on the sleeves and chest acting as a nice secondary colour scheme. There were some translucent bits too, which was pretty nifty, near the upper arms and shoulders, before the sleeves thickened and hung down. It was all a little more fancy-pantsy than Loden was used to, but he could appreciate the whole aesthetic. However, Azura’s hair was undone, and hung sloppily over her shoulders – and the dress was very creased, looking a little like a used bedsheet. It quite spoiled the look, or so Loden thought.

Miyuki raised her arms to the heavens.

“Damn on your second uncle!” She hissed with an enragement that seemed almost out of character – the stress of the event had to be getting to her – before breathing heavily and wasting no time in escorting Azura from the premises, out of sight. A moment passed, and a bag was laid gently on the floor outside the room’s door.

“Get changed.” Miyuki’s disembodied voice ordered. “Tell us when you’re ready, but don’t come in.”

Marvellous. Loden wordlessly took the bag and placed it on a nearby table, opening it up and eying the contents quizzically. There were two distinct suits within. One looked more Cheinise, whilst the other looked unfamiliar in style. Presumably, since the clothes had been brought in town, it was more stylised to the culture of the Icy Wastes. Loden eyed Iamos.

“Any, uh, preference?” He ventured.

Iamos peered into the bag before stepping back with an apathetic shrug. His brow hadn’t unfurrowed since the news of Daiyu’s kidnap, Loden had realised. And it had been over two days.

“Alrighty then.” Loden, without any further ado, leant forward and grabbed the Cheinise-looking suit. It looked just a little bit snazzier to him. A bit cleaner. “Well, let’s, uh, get changed.”

He pulled the suit out of the bag, examining it as he dipped into thought. The day before the day before, Daiyu had been taken from them. Kidnapped. Under his watch, no less...! Even now, the memory made him furious. He clenched his fists around the shoulders of the suit jacket he was holding. If only he had been more efficient, if only he had been faster, if only he had been more alert!

He stopped himself. It was a form of survivor’s guilt, the logical side of him knew. Because he had gotten off scot-free while Daiyu had been taken, he would find ways to blame himself for what had happened, feeling as though he didn’t deserve to be around when she wasn’t. It was a stupid mental response, and he physically shook his head to try and clear it. He sighed through gritted teeth.

What kind of guard was he?

He was still fuming as he stripped off his jacket, grabbing the suit and slinging it over his shoulders. The whole matter upset him. Not just his own incompetence. Daiyu didn’t deserve it. Hell, nobody deserved to be kidnapped off the streets, and forced to-! He caught himself again, pausing. Spades. He really was wound up about all this, wasn’t he? He had to focus. He had helped come up with a plan. He was an active participant in the rescue operation that they had planned for that night. Even if he had screwed up, he was making amends now. That was all he could do.

“Loden.” Iamos’ voice interrupted him. He turned around, half-hoping for some kind of advice or heartfelt conversation. He was instead greeted by the sight of Iamos all but trapped inside the thick woolly coat he was wearing. “How does this work?”

Loden eyed the numerous buttons and zips on the coat before chuckling, and stepping forward.

“Come on, fashionista.” He rolled his eyes, fondly. “Let’s give you a hand.”

**********

Nightfall brought with it a certain feeling of intensity. It was weird, Loden pondered as he trudged down the snowy street. On paper, it’d seem like the night – when most people would have been asleep – would have been calmer. More peaceful. Loden had experienced that sometimes, when he had been training as a guard. The mock night watches, with a lack of real danger about them, had been something of a contemplative time for him. A time to enjoy his own company (because he was good company) and just relax.

Tonight, however, was different.

Far from savouring the experience, or enjoying the fact that they were able to play a sort of fantastical pretend – step into a life that few had ever experienced – their party was quite subdued as they made the walk from the Origin, hidden away near the town’s boundaries, to Evercrest Mansion. Loden tugged on his jacket, wishing it was just a little thicker. The cold was ever-palpable. His outfit was, he liked to think, simplistic yet stylish – white jacket, done up with golden buttons, and black trousers and undershirt. Loden had pushed his hair back a bit, messing it upwards and pulling some of his unrulier strands into place. It was a little uncomfortable, but Loden knew that it was simply the feeling of new and unfamiliar clothes, and that he’d warm up to it soon enough. (With a little bit of luck.)

To his side stood Miyuki. Though it was mostly obscured by the long fur coat she was clad in, her dress was stylistically similar to his. Black and white, with a relatively simple design. Her arms were bare (hence the coat), which had given Loden the opportunity (before that coat) to take note of a tattoo on one of her shoulders. To be specific, the left shoulder. Inked into her porcelain skin was an image of some kind of bird, bearing its chest outwards and extending its wings. Its beak was extended, as though mid-call, and the wings spread outwards beyond her shoulder, stretching across her back and chest, under the dress’ fabric. Several tendrils of ink, looking like bursts of flame and clumps of feathered cleaved into one, trailed down her arm – some reached as far as below her elbow, snaking across the top of her forearm. Were they supposed to be the bird’s tail? He wasn’t sure.

It was an interesting feature, to be sure. Loden couldn’t take his mind off it. It had to be royal family-sanctioned, because he doubted that the Emperor would condone his daughter getting her skin inked as she pleased. That, in turn, meant that it probably had to mean something, or have some kind of symbolism. He made a mental note to ask Miyuki about it later.

To his other side stood Iamos. A cross between a cloak and a fur coat was draped across his shoulders, making his shoulders look almost twice as broad. His underclothes were mostly plain, and dark. A jacket hanging past his waist, tied with a bronze-buckled belt. He looked like some kind of commander, a cold-weather warrior. His face was suitably stony, too. Beyond his slightly lowered eyebrows, his blue eyes blazed with a dark intensity. Loden was tempted to give him his sword, just to complete the look – but if things did go to pot, Loden would be able to use it better. Iamos had his alchemy, anyway.

Azura was by Iamos’ side, wearing the dress that she had tried on earlier. The longest folds were tied around her legs, to avoid the fabric draping into the dry snow gathered on the streets they walked through. The dress had been un-creased by Miyuki, just to ensure that the girl was looking her best – and her black hair was done up in a tight bun, held in place by a long metal screw that she had found in the engine room. Miyuki hadn’t approved, but everyone else agreed that it worked fine, and that no-one was going to notice anyway.

The four walked as one unit, striding confidently towards the mansion – as he turned another corner, Loden was suddenly hit with its image, windows ablaze with light. Perhaps unsurprisingly, no-one was loitering near the mansion’s streets. They probably didn’t want to be made slaves, either.

The mansion was surrounded by a high wall, made of plastered brick, that stretched father than Loden could be bothered to glance. A little way away, he could see a gate of metal bars, guarded by four heavily-built men in furs and armour. The gates themselves were open, but it wasn’t likely that those guards were going to let just anyone in.

This was it. He glanced at Miyuki, who nodded in affirmation. Time to put their plan into action.

“Evening, gents.” The duty of cold open fell to Loden himself, who forced his legs to keep moving as he ambled in what he hoped was an amicable and relaxed fashion towards the guards. He held up the poster as he arrived in front of them, the poster that had given him the information to begin with. “Open evening, we heard?”

“Aye.” Grunted one of the men. The guards didn’t seem too threatening or suspicious, to be fair – just weary. Made sense, Loden thought. Especially considering the fact that they had to stand outside in the cold for their masters – human traffickers. “You can pay, right?”

“Aye.” Loden replied. Wordlessly, Miyuki held up a pouch of coins that she had gained by trading in some of her jewellery. The metallic jingle seemed to be enough of a proof for the guards, who shrugged and stood to the side.

“Get through the main doors, and straight ahead. Everyone’s in the hall.” Another guard said. “You can’t miss it.”

“Cheers.” Loden thanked them before striding forwards, the trudge of boots breaking through fresh-fallen snow his indicator that Iamos, Miyuki, and Azura were all following his lead.

The doors themselves were closed, but another two men standing guard outside opened them up, allowing the group to wander inside. Though this should have made Loden less nervous, it was actually having the opposite effect. It felt worryingly simple. What kind of security was this?

“Do we think it’s a trap?” He asked Miyuki as they walked, still alone, through the hallway.

“Unlikely.” She responded. “Even if word of your exploits got out, they’d have no way of suspecting that you were trying to infiltrate this auction.” Loden furrowed her brow as she continued. “I know how you feel, though. I thought it odd that entry seems so simple. I think we can attribute it to a combination of our… disguises, for lack of a better word, and a possible nonchalance on the part of the guards.”

“Makes sense.” Muttered Loden. His eyes wandered to Iamos, who was keeping up the illusion brilliantly thus far. Head and shoulders straight up, piercing gaze straight ahead. He looked very noble-slash-rich-slash-whatever indeed.

At his other side, Miyuki straightened herself up. “Be wary.” She warned, as they arrived at a final set of doors. Loden allowed himself a moment’s hesitation before pushing the doors confidently open.

He wasn’t quite sure what he had been expecting, to be fair. Some kind of theatre? A rave? A torture chamber? The former was probably closest, though that wasn’t exactly saying much. The room was simply enormous, stretching meters and meters forwards in front of them. A large portion of it was mostly empty space, with guests milling around and being fed refreshments from uniform-clad servers. Towards the other end of the room were a large number of chairs, and a central stage area, lifted up from the floor. As Loden stepped forward, he noted some kind of podium on top of said stage area. He narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what he was seeing. His best guess was that the chairs and stage were the site of the auction itself, and the rest of the space was just for honoured guests to make themselves comfortable. In all honesty, the whole horror of the situation – the fact that people were being bought at auctions – wasn’t as disturbing to Loden as it logically should have been. Perhaps he just hadn’t experienced it yet, hadn’t seen it happen. For the time being, though, he’d take it. They were here on a mission, and couldn’t get distracted by feelings. Iamos, certainly, would have said something similar.

Large glass structures hung from the ceiling, filling the room with a warm golden glow even as the wooden-rimmed windows revealed a darkened outside, swirling with light snowflakes. The glow shone down on the assembled highborns, illuminating them and their fancy clothes as they talked and ate. Loden had half expected some kind of music, but the only ambient sound was the buzz and mutter of voices as they faded into the background.

He leaned over to Miyuki. “I’m guessing that that stage is where the people are actually bought.”

“I suspect you’re right.” Miyuki muttered back. Her face remained impassive, and Loden struggled to even see her lips move.

He licked his lips. “What’s the plan?”

There was a moment of hesitation. Then-

“I thought that was your job.”

He paused, flushing. Was he the leader? He hadn’t realised. Well, he had organised most of this. He was the one doing the talking. Did that count? He suddenly realised that Miyuki was probably waiting for a reply.

“Humour me.” He tried to emphasis the feeling of eye-rolling with his voice, which wasn’t easy. “I could do with a second opinion.”

“Well.” There was a touch of humour to her voice now, though it was nigh undetectable underneath a seriousness coming from both the need to remain impassive amongst unsuspecting guests, and the general intensity of their mission. “Our objective is to not only free Daiyu and leave, but to do so without detection. The way I see it, we have two options.” The others gathered around her as she spoke. “One: stealth. We sneak away, find where the prospective slaves are being kept, find Daiyu, break her out, and leave.”

“Could be difficult.” Reasoned Iamos, who had a hand placed on Azura’s shoulder – energy both nervous and excited was combining into general fidgety movement, and she probably would have been bouncing on her heels if not for her brother’s restraint.

Miyuki nodded. “We don’t know anything about the mansion’s layout, it’ll arouse suspicion if we’re caught wandering around, and if we miss the auction, Daiyu might end up being bought by someone else.”

Iamos’ faced contorted as Miyuki’s mention of Daiyu being “bought”, but he remained silent.

“Two: hiding in plain sight.” Miyuki continued, unmoved by Iamos’ show of emotion. “We mingle here with guests and sit out the auction. If Daiyu’s there, we can buy her back ourselves.”

“Do we have the funds?” Loden raised an eyebrow, surprised. Miyuki shook her head.

“I have no idea.” She confessed. “We might be outbid, and we’d have to stay up here the whole time, talking and mingling-” she spread an arm out to indicate the room’s occupants- “with the rest of them.”

“So, we’ve got two options, both with a lot of risks.” Iamos summarized. Miyuki nodded.

“Suggestion.” Azura suddenly blurted. Everyone turned to her, and she faced them down confidently. “Both!”

“Both?” Repeated Loden, as he processed the idea. Azura nodded.

“We split up. Some of us stay up here, some of us go looking around.” She eyed the group. “I’m… well, me and Iamos can go look around.”

She turned to him and Miyuki.

“You two are far better at talking to people. You should stay up here and see if you can rescue or buy Daiyu.”

Loden looked to Miyuki. She nodded, once, for confirmation. He smirked.

“Alright, squirt. Sounds like a plan.” He shook Azura’s hand before eying the room. “Let’s see if we can find a good place for the two of you to slip away from.”

Azura nodded, and the group began to walk forwards. Their walk was brief, stressful, and littered with servants offering refreshments. (Azura was the only one to accept – Loden, for his part, didn’t really have an appetite.) Eventually, Loden spotted a side door. Small, almost hidden through the crowd. Looking back, he could already see Iamos uncomfortably rubbing his shoulders from all the contact. Time to split.

“Through here.” He hissed, indicating the door. “Just make sure there isn’t anyone on the side.”

Azura cracked the door open and stuck her head through. One moment and heartbeat later, she turned around.

“No, there’s no-one.” She reported.

Once again, Loden was left pondering lax security, but critically analysing his good luck didn’t seem particularly beneficial. Wordlessly, he opened the door wider and ushered Azura and Iamos through. He would have said something along the lines of “goodbye and good luck”, but he didn’t want to know what would happen if someone saw them slipping through the door, so he saved the sentiment. The door clicked shut, and suddenly he was alone with Miyuki. Well, not “alone” in the traditional sense. But she was the only person there he knew, so…

“I suppose we ought to mingle.” Miyuki’s voice interrupted him. He nodded, after a moment.

“Yeah.” He agreed, before realising something. “Uh, is it okay if we give our real names, or whatever?”

“No.” She said, simply. “But don’t worry about it. Just let me introduce ourselves, assuming it comes to that.”

“Pretty sure it will.” Loden nodded over her head. He had noticed an approach. Two people, a man and a woman, arm in arm. Walking towards them – slowly, so not particularly threateningly, but also deliberately.

“I see.” She muttered, her face remaining unchanged. She had put some of the make-up back on, as well, and the white clothing helped her to further resemble how she had looked when the two had first met. Wait, why was he thinking about that now?

“Haven’t seen the two of you around before. First auction?” The man said, finally reaching them. He had dark, tousled hair, and was wearing the furs that a lot of other people seemed to be wearing. The woman on his arm was almost as tall as he was, with long blonde hair. A beat passed, and the man stuck his hand out towards Loden.

“Lord Miroslav of Sertograd.” He said, simply. “The woman is my wife, Yara.”

Loden grasped the man’s hand, shaking it firmly. He remained silent, though – Miyuki had asked him to let her handle the introductions, and let her handle the introductions he would.

“This is my husband, Count Adalwin of Senlo.” She declared. And- wait, where had husband come from? Loden’s first reflex was to wheel on Miyuki and question her, but he suppressed this urge. It was part of the plan. He forced himself to listen when he realised that Miyuki continued speaking – a fake backstory of some kind? He probably ought to know it.

“We’re newlyweds, travelling to the east as a celebration.” Miyuki was still talking. “Some time for us to spend together, and get to know one another better. Our staff is a little underhanded, so we decided to attend this auction to, ah… boost our numbers, slightly.”

Miroslav nodded affirmation. “Talkative one, this one.” He was still addressing Loden with his speech. Miyuki shot him a look. Welp. Time to improvise.

“What can I say?” He slipped into a fake nonchalance, trying to imagine that he and Miroslav were just old friends. “The east is her homeland, after all. Exciting for her, I’m sure, to be back.” He forced a smile. “Well, almost back. Not quite there yet.” He couldn’t tell whether Miroslav wanted to say anything else or not, so he pressed onwards. “I assume that you’re experienced with these, ah… auctions?” He offered.

Miroslav nodded. “That I am.” He replied. “Must have been to a dozen of these things. I bought some of the most efficient members of my household.”

“Well, I hope to do the same.” Loden replied cheerfully. “Is it just a conventional auction, then?”

“Aye.” Miroslav indicated the stage. “They’ll bring ‘em up onto that stage, and you bid. Simple, really.”

“Wonderful.” Crooned Loden, feigning enthusiasm. “Nice and simple.” His eyes roved around the room, looking for a way to escape the conversation – natural as it may have looked, he didn’t want to talk for any longer than was necessary – and his eyes eventually fixed themselves on a table of food. Refreshments. A convenient excuse.

“Well, we’ll take our leave.” He said, politely. “I intend to… sate my appetite.”

Miroslav nodded, one lord to another (or so he presumed), and said: “Good luck with your hunt for service, Adalwin.”

“You too, my lord.” Loden nodded back respectfully, blindly reaching to the side and ensnaring Miyuki’s arm in his. “Come, wife. Do you hunger as well?”

Miyuki did not try to wriggle out of his grip as he had half-anticipated. Instead, she meekly bowed her head in an almost disturbing manner. “I do, my lord.”

With a final nod to Miroslav, Loden pulled her with him as he wandered away, suddenly finding himself with a genuine appetite. A few moments passed, and they were in the midst of a sort-of crowd, before Miyuki spoke again.

““sate my appetite”?” She repeated. Loden eyed her.

“Was that wrong?”

She shrugged. “No, it was grammatically correct. It simply sounded a little different to how you might have otherwise phrased it, is all.”

It was Loden’s turn to shrug. “Well, princess, I am doing that undercover thing. Might as well try to pass myself off as a highborn, at least.”

“You’ve been doing… well.” She assured him. Well, maybe assured was too strong a word. Her hesitation certainly did nothing for his self-confidence. (But he wasn’t going to bring it up.) “But we aren’t finished yet.”

“Didn’t think so.” He sighed. There wasn’t any more conversation between the two of them for a moment, and Loden filled the time and silence by sampling delicacies from the snack table. They ranged from “succulent” to “over-sweetened”. He looked around the room wearily as he chewed. There was no sign of any prisoners, or the auction’s beginning in general. There was also no sign of Iamos and Azura, returning either empty-handed or with Daiyu. With an uncomfortable jolt, he realised that they hadn’t set up any way to meet up after either succeeding or failing at finding Daiyu. Whoops.

“Hey, why “husband”?” Loden blurted out, curiosity suddenly taking over for just long enough to ask the question. Maybe to distract himself from the uncomfortable realisation that their exit strategy could have used work.

Miyuki didn’t reply straight away, presumably maintaining an unsuspicious composure. Eventually, she spoke.

“It was the most convenient explanation.” She said, simply. “How else would you have passed us off?”

“Dunno.” Acknowledged Loden, slipping pieces of honeyed fruit into his mouth. “But don’t husbandsh and wivesh have an intimashy, or shomethin’ wike ‘at?” His speech was hindered by his mouthful, and he hastily swallowed enough to let him speak clearly. To be fair, the food was delicious.

“A lot of the time, marriages are arranged.” Miyuki explained, turning her head away from Loden to survey the room. He had to listen closely to pick up her words. “Newlyweds was convenient because it would explain a lack of such intimacy. Many married couples only grow closer to one another as their marriage progresses.”

“Hmm.” Loden furrowed his brow. She turned to him, her own brow raised slightly, and he met her eyes. He suddenly felt an urge to speak. “Well, uh, it’s not to do with the cover – it’s a good cover – I was just thinking about the idea of arranged marriage in general, you know? I mean, I really enjoy being free to love and live as I want, so something like that… it doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Understandable.” Miyuki said. “Though, the truth is, most people end up falling for their betrothed regardless. Or, at least, learning to co-operate.” She sighed through her nose. “Love is a choice, Loden.”

He glanced at her sceptically, even as he continued to eat. This was definitely news to him – love was supposed to be an affection. An uncontrollable feeling. (At least, in his experience.) Wasn’t it supposed to be something that no-one had any ability to resist or manipulate? Love couldn’t be controlled, or decided upon. It was… it was almost beyond that, or so he thought. Apparently, some people thought differently.

Fancy that.

“Alright.” He murmured, suddenly feeling quite thoughtful (though maybe that was being full of food). He edged closer to Miyuki. “So, wife, mind if I ask you something?”

“Depends what you ask, husband.” She replied without missing a beat. Seemed about right.

“It’s, uh nothing serious.” He felt compelled to say. Maybe it was the nerves of the situation, but their conversation suddenly felt a lot more stand-offish then he had wanted. Best to pacify the situation. “I just wanted to ask about your tattoo.”

“Ah.” Her voice betrayed no emotion. “Is that all?”

“I was curious.” He shrugged. “Didn’t figure your old man would approve of such a thing.”

“As a matter of fact, he’s the reason I got it.”

He couldn’t resist turning to her in surprise. Well, maybe not surprise, because he had figured that the emperor had to have approved of the inking – especially something as large and blatant as that. (It wasn’t, like, a little symbol on her back or something, it was a ruddy great phoenix all across her forearm and beyond.) It was more like… just interest. She offered him no emotion, which was to be expected, but continued to talk anyway. Which was nice. And at least she wanted to talk about it.

“It’s a family tradition.” She explained. “There’s a lot of symbolism behind the symbol of the phoenix, did you know that?”

Loden wracked his brains, but couldn’t come up with anything. Not that he had honestly expected to know what a phoenix meant to a princess. He was neither.

“’Fraid not.” He sighed. Miyuki nodded understanding before continuing to talk. By this point, both were standing with their backs to the buffet table, watching the lords and ladies mingle throughout the rest of the room. There was no eye contact – or even any physical contact – but there was something of a connection between them by this point. At least, Loden hoped there was. It would help with their husband and wife story.

“The phoenix is a symbol of the empress, and royal females.” Continued Miyuki. “It is customary within my family for females to get a phoenix tattoo. Respectively, the men get a tattoo of a dragon – and on their right shoulder, as opposed to their left.”

“Let me guess.” Loden filled in. “The dragon is the symbol of the emperor, and royal males.”

“Correct, prince of nonsense.” She said to him. “My father, the emperor, has a dragon tattoo. His father had one also. And I expect that whoever I wed shall one day bear the same image.”

“I should have one.” He remarked. She turned to him, and he shrugged. “Add more to our marriage story.”

She smiled. “It’s only for the evening. I wouldn’t ask you to do something so drastic just for that.”

He shrugged again, not knowing quite how else to physically react. “Maybe I’d want one anyway.”

She pursed her lips. “Do you?”

He smirked, rolling his shoulders as he stood up a little straighter. “What can I say? Dragons are cool.”

She nodded a small acknowledgement, and no further words were said for a little while. The ever-present hum of voices echoing around the room remained constant. If anything, Loden could hear it getting a little louder. (Presumably as time passed, and they got closer to the actual auction. It was the main event, after all.) He hummed to himself a fair part of the time, not quite sure what else to do. Not that he wasn’t against socialising, but an environment like this wasn’t exactly something he was used to.

The environment itself was still nice enough that the situation hadn’t really hit Loden yet. On top of the fancy attire and venue, there was now a band sitting on the upper levels and playing slow and sweet music – the sort of music that encouraged warmth, and intimacy, and it was putting Loden to SLEEP-

He shook his head slightly. Compared to the snowy outside, the warmth in the hall was a cosy bordering on stifling. Fatigue was also hitting him. Embarrassingly unprofessional, all thing considered. Wake up, man, he told himself, you’re on a rescue mission. A glance to his side revealed that Miyuki seemed to be having no such troubles. (Though, to be fair, she was a lot better at hiding reactions than he was. She COULD have been just as tired as him, and just not have been showing it.) He pinched his own arm, trying to convince himself to stay alert.

Things remained slow. Several times, someone approached him and made shallow conversation. Most of the time, he was able to handle it (with a little help from Miyuki, whenever necessary), but he almost found himself bored. The conversations weren’t interesting, and nobody even suspected a thing. Which was technically a good thing, but it was also a little… anticlimactic. He felt himself beginning to yawn, and hastily stifled it. Miyuki glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes as she surveyed the room – she had finally developed something of an appetite, and was busy nibbling daintily at some kind of meat. He didn’t recognise it.

“Don’t let your guard down.” She murmured in his direction. He rolled his eyes in response. Fatigue and unawareness were two… well, two mostly different things.

“Sorry.”

Miyuki let out a small sigh through her nose, before popping the rest of the meat (maybe some type of seafood? Loden still wasn’t sure) into her mouth and wiping her fingers on a handkerchief. The origins of this handkerchief were a mystery. Loden wasn’t going to dwell on it. He wasn’t going to dwell on a lot of things. The boredom was really taking hold now, to the point where he initially didn’t notice Miyuki’s outstretched hand. When he did, it snapped him out of his stupor quite quickly.

“Princess…?”

“Come on.” Her fingers twitched, perhaps with impatience. “We’ve stayed in the same position too long, and don’t think I can’t see you falling asleep beside me.”

“I’m not asleep!” He protested. And he wasn’t! It was really stuffy inside the actual hall, that was all. And there was nothing to do. Not that he told any of this to Miyuki, of course, because she had already seized his hand in her own. Something of a feat, considering. Miyuki’s hands were a lot smaller and daintier than his. There was, however, a surprising amount of strength in her grip. It was this above all else that motivated him to raise an eyebrow and stare at her – though she appeared to misunderstand.

“How would you prefer me to move you?” She asked him, staring him down with those intense eyes of hers. “Pulling your hand, or pushing your back? Or would you prefer to move on your own terms?”

“I can move.” He protested, managing to pull his hand out of hers. “Just tell me what we’re doing.”

She indicated with her other hand, to a large section of space full of people moving. The details of their movement hit him just as she said the word:

“Dancing.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” His arms slumped, deadened, to his sides. It wasn’t that he was necessarily against the idea of dancing (at least, as a… as a thing), but it just seemed like a terrible time. Their friend was imprisoned somewhere in the mansion, and their other friends were sneaking around looking for them. And he and her were going to just dance in the hall? It didn’t sit right with him.

“I know.” Miyuki muttered. “It seems… in poor taste.”

With a start, Loden remembered the circumstances of the gathering once again. An auction. For people. And they were all dancing like it was some kind of ball. It felt as though his stomach was tying itself into knots, and he wasn’t quite sure whether he wanted to laugh or be sick.

Well, it wasn’t like anyone had said that this undercover business was going to be easy.

“Let’s get this over with.” He said darkly, before turning to Miyuki and offering her his hand once again. “May I have,” he said through gritted teeth, “this dance?”

He felt her fingers twine with his, and they began to stalk forwards as one.

“You may.” She sounded as stony as he felt. After a moment, they found themselves amidst a throng of people twirling in rhythm, clinging to one another as they moved with the music (which seemed to have gotten a little faster, though Loden couldn’t be completely sure). It was here that Loden realised something else.

Damn.

“I can’t dance.” He confessed, even as he and Miyuki turned to face one another, intertwining their hands. “Like, not formally.” The two were quite close, now – he had to look down, and she had to look up, in order for them to meet each other’s eyes. “I’ve danced before, but not… not like this.”

Miyuki breathed sharply through the nose (which, by her standards, was a sign of deep agitation). She began to tug on his arm, and he felt himself lumber forward as she stepped backwards.

“Well then,” she said, betraying no further emotion, “I suppose I’ll just have to lead.”

He felt her pull on his arm again, and he remained obedient, mimicking her motions as the two began to fall into a swaying sort of rhythm. After a moment, some familiarity eased into their movement – for Miyuki, Loden figured that she had practiced formal dance movements before. (Because court life, or whatever.) On his part? Well, he had certainly danced before, even if it was nothing like this, and he could feel the sense of rhythm and tandem-based movement through their admittedly stiff movements.

Miyuki led him on, and after another moment, they began to turn and sway to the music. It was a low melody on some… Loden spared a glance upwards to the band. He didn’t recognise the instruments they were playing. But the music that they were making flowed like a river. If rivers were slow and sad. And deep. Yeah, there was definitely a metaphor in there somewhere. But it was interesting. Most of the music that Loden had heard was beats, and people hitting things, but this was smooth. It felt, to him, as though he were flying after walking all his life. He smiled, in spite of himself.

“Enjoying yourself?” He couldn’t identify Miyuki’s tone – was she chiding him for distraction, or happy for him? He couldn’t tell. Looking down at her face again didn’t help.

“Only a little.” He admitted, before sighing. “We didn’t organise a way to meet up with the others or anything. We didn’t… we didn’t think this through.”

Miyuki said nothing for a moment, and Loden kept an ear open as they moved. He had taken to this dancing lark quickly – the two were stepping with one another in tandem. Suddenly feeling impulsive, he observed the surrounding dancers – some of whom were moving more daringly, spinning one another around, leaning back and grasping each other’s hands for balance. He waited a moment, before throwing caution to the wind and pulling Miyuki’s arm up.

She raised an eyebrow at him, but leant into the spin, twirling round where she stood before almost falling against his chest for balance. When they met eyes again, her expression remained unreadable.

He shrugged. “Wanted to try something interesting.”

She nodded a single nod – one of assent – but said nothing else.

No further spins were attempted.

Loden kept his eye on the door that Iamos and Azura had disappeared through, eying the other visible doors as well. There was no sign of them or Daiyu. Surely, some of them would have appeared by now? “When,” Loden muttered after an uncertain amount of time slowly swaying with Miyuki, “is this damned auction going to start?”

“Soon, I daresay.” Miyuki’s eyes flickered over to the windows. It was pitch black outside. “I doubt that they would have this event last until the morning.”

As if on cue, the players on the upper levels stopped playing the music, and the wide space of room – the dance floor – cleared quickly. Loden pulled Miyuki alongside him as he struggled to remain in sync with the crowd. He didn’t want to risk getting singled out for any reason.

A new man stepped onto the stage. (New, as in, Loden hadn’t seen him mingling with the rest of the crowd.) He wore a suit similar to Loden’s, Cheinise style, and looked as though he were from the Empire himself, with black hair and pale skin similar to Miyuki’s. Also like Miyuki, he had a tattoo – a pattern inked into his skin. His was on the back of his hand. It was barely visible, but the dark ink was enough of a contrast to his ivory-toned skin that Loden was able to just about spot it. Was it significant? He had no idea, but it was an interesting little detail.

He was good at noticing those.

Hastily, he and Miyuki headed towards the seats, which were filling with people as the room’s occupants sat down to listen to whatever this may have had to say. (Though everyone probably had a… decent idea of what was about to happen.) When the man spoke, the thing that really stood out to Loden was the showboating. Whether it was the booming voice or the expressive hand gestures, this announcer man was obviously doing his best to make the auction look like some kind of theatre play. Maybe it was to distract everyone from the truth.

Miyuki shot him a glance as the announcer talked on – something about “the most diverse selection yet” – and muttered so subtly he almost missed it: “Keep an eye out for Daiyu.”

He tilted his head ever-so-slightly as a nod of affirmation. “I haven’t forgotten the mission, princess.”

Minutes that feel like hours trickled by, like sand in an hourglass, until the announcer suddenly took a step forward to make room on the stage for what must have been at least a dozen different people. They all wore clothing that both looked like and was in the same shape as a potato sack, and some of them bore the marks of old wounds. Surprisingly enough, they themselves looked relatively presentable. Clean hair and skin, all that fun stuff. If Loden had to guess, he figured that they must have been cleaned and brushed up to look more appealing. More buy-able. For the tenth or so time, he shuddered as the weight of what was really happening hit him.

It was as he was considering all of that that Miyuki lightly smacked his arm, drawing out of his thoughts. Before he could even whisper a question, she furiously (was that anger in her eyes, or… or something closer to fear?) tilted her head towards the stage, and hissed:

“Daiyu’s not up there!”

14: MASTER AND SLAVE

Nervously doing an about term and stumbling away from the third guard to catch them and give them directions back to the main hall, Iamos reckoned that he had just about enough of sneaking around on rich people’s property. Once they rescued Daiyu, no more palaces or mansions for him. Unless he received an explicit invite. Then, maybe, he would consider.

To her credit, Azura seemed unperturbed by the constant confrontations. With guidance from him on which halls they had actually been down before (she seemed unable to remember, and had to be reminded that a route had already been attempted on more than occasion), she was eagerly scampering down the corridors, bunching her dress in her fists and holding it above the ground so that she could move faster and with a greater comfort. If she was nervous, she didn’t show it, instead displaying an excitement that even Iamos could pick up on. Not for the first time, he wondered if his sister even had a working sense of fear.

At any rate, at least someone appeared to be enjoying themselves.

“Did we go down here before?” She asked, turning around to face him. Though she was standing still, one of her ankles was quivering as the leg bounced up and down. Yet another symptom of possessing energy surplus to requirements.

Iamos gave pause to his own walking in order to examine this latest hallway. At the end was a flight of stairs that descended to some kind of lower level. None of the other places they had been had had a feature such as this, and a lower level seemed an apt place to keep kidnapped slaves-to-be.

“No.” He said, and Azura all but bolted off down the hallway, making a lot more noise than Iamos found himself comfortable with as her feet clacked loudly on the stone floor with every step she took. What if they were overheard?

Iamos, unfortunately, found an answer to his question a lot quicker than he would have liked, as the sound of footsteps echoed out from the stairs. Azura stopped in her tracks, so rigid she was statuesque, as an armoured guard emerged, clutching a scabbarded sword and scowling fiercely at the two of them. He expected the man to ask them what they were doing there, but he said nothing, instead eying them and flexing his fingers on the sword’s hilt. Clearly, no questions were going to be asked if they tried anything suspicious. Having not moved, Azura took a step backwards, only for the guard to match her step with his own. She paused. Then, she took another step. So did he.

At this point, Iamos reasoned that the best option he had was to incapacitate this guard and continue down the stairs, which had to have something important at the end if they were so protected – hopefully, it was the prisoners. Iamos wasn’t sure what else it could be, and there was little of him that truly wanted to know. However, he was distracted by a more pressing matter: how to deal with the man blocking their way, before he made a move to attack Azura? (Which seemed to be looming, as the man eyed her warily, waiting for her to move again.)

At the moment, there was no earth surrounding them. Plaster and stone and brick he might have been able to move, but he was unwilling to take that chance. There was no water, or sand, or ice. That left air as his only resource, but how best to utilise it? Master Rainer had cautioned him on the use of air, citing incidents where alchemists had suffocated people by depriving them of oxygen, or even caused their bodies irreparable damage by changing the air pressure around them. He didn’t even want to try that. There was what he had done before, which was change the air pressure and stun the target with a noise, but he wasn’t sure if he or Azura would be able to fully take out the guard before he recovered from the attack.

There was also the option of manipulating air currents to create powerful gusts of wind. Perhaps one of those would be enough to send the guard into a wall and incapacitate or daze him? It would probably be more time-effective than manipulating the air, and-

The guard gave up on the stand-off he and Azura had been having, and settled for suddenly charging her, unsheathing his sword. No time to think – just to create a strong enough gust. The guard was suddenly blasted to the left, dropping his sword as he did so. The metal hit the floor with a clang. However, the guard shook off his daze quickly, scrambling on the floor to try and rise with his heavy armour. Iamos estimated that they had a few seconds – only for his thoughts to be violently interrupted by the sight of Azura darting forward and stabbing the flailing man in the side. He howled in pain, before locking eyes with her and trying to rise. Without hesitation, she lashed out again, this time attacking the thigh of the leg he was trying to stand on. He yelled again, and fell to the ground, bleeding from the two wounds.

Azura rose, and Iamos saw in her hand the screw that had been holding her hair in a bun. The hair itself now fell loosely around Azura’s head, slightly frizzy from being pinned in position for so long. He tried to say something, but paused when he realised that he wasn’t quite sure what to say. She helped by grabbing his hand and pulling him past the guard, who was too preoccupied with his injuries to worry about them, and down the stairs. The air grew dusty and stifling, and Iamos sneezed as they ran. The sound echoed, and was met with movement from within. Probably another guard.

Sure enough, as they reached the foot of the stairs, they saw another man running towards them in the now narrow corridor that they found themselves in. Azura pushed Iamos backwards, holding the screw in her hand like a knife, but Iamos found himself uncomfortable with the idea of letting his sister stab someone else. He looked around. They were still surrounded by rock, but now, it looked a lot more like aged stone. There were even a couple of drops of moisture sliding down from the ceiling. It was a lot closer to conventional stone than the walls of the mansion, which meant that he would be a lot more successful in manipulating it. A moment later, the floor abruptly shot up an inch or two, and the guard was sent sprawling as he tripped over the newly-created step. Wasting no time, Azura seized Iamos’ hand again, and the two sprinted down the hallway, physically running over the man’s sprawled body as they did so. After reaching the end of the hall and coming across a wooden door, Iamos turned back and forced the cobbled ground behind them rise to meet the ceiling, cutting off their route.

“Will we be able to get out afterward?” Azura asked him. Iamos wasn’t sure. At the very least, they had been bought some time. He shrugged.

“Great.” She muttered as a response, before turning around and squinting at the door, as if she didn’t trust it to not have a group of guards hiding behind it. “Well, we only have one way to go now-” Her speech was cut short as she tried to turn the door’s handle, only for said handle to remain unresponsive and un-turning. The door had to be locked. Azura rolled her eyes, groaning melodramatically.

“We only have no way to go now.” She said, before turning to Iamos. “What can your alchemy do that doesn’t involve lowering that wall and giving those guards a clear path to us? Because if you do that, we’ll have no way to escape, and we’ll probably be killed, or-”

“I get it.” Iamos cut her off, rubbing his temple as he felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. He thought to himself. What could he do, anyway? The lock itself was made of metal, which he hadn’t learnt how to manipulate. Perhaps if he had stayed with Rainer… no. He was being fanciful. It had been weeks at most since he had left, he probably wouldn’t have learnt anything important in that time anyway.

He would have made some semblance of progress, though.

Pushing the negative intrusive thoughts away, he focused again. The metal lock was un-manipulatable. That was a fact, at the moment. What else could he do? Perhaps he would have more luck with the wood of the door? It was plant matter, which he had technically never learnt to manipulate, but he knew that it was achieved through a combination of earth and water alchemy, which were both branches that he had mastered. He peered at the door again. It didn’t… it didn’t feel like it could be manipulated by him. When doing alchemy, it was as though he could almost sense the energy around him – at least, whatever he could manipulate would give off a strange sort of wave, or feeling. But things that he couldn’t yet transmutate, like fire or metal, felt completely blank to him. The door was the same. It felt listless, and he realised with a jolt that he could try all he liked, but he didn’t yet have any abilities that would help him get past it.

So much for that idea.

He moved his attention away from the door, skirting his senses around the area that he and Azura were hiding in. He could feel a low buzz emit from the ground, and from the wall he had built. There was also a feeling coming from the wall around the door, which was made of the same stone that he had previously been able to manipulate.

It wasn’t conventional, but when had that ever stopped him before? The wall beside the door began to slide to the side, creating an opening between stone and wood big enough for Iamos and then Azura to slip through.

Through the hole was an exceedingly long hallway, dimly lit by a few burning torches. Moss and moisture was everywhere, to the point where Iamos had to shuffle away from the nearest wall to avoid getting warm water all over himself. It didn’t feel nice. However, he was distracted from his discomfort by the sound of Azura’s mutter:

“Oh.”

He turned to her, the question “what is it?” on his lips, but found that there was no need as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Through the hallway were a multitude of prison cells – with almost all of them filled. People dressed in rags with matted and unkempt hair crawled or stumbled towards the bars of their cells. Iamos felt a violent shudder course through him at the feeling of so many eyes upon him, every nerve screaming to step backwards and out of sight. He swallowed.

Abruptly, Azura seized his wrist in a vice-like grip. He winced, but used the physical contact to ground him and keep him stable. They had a job to do. A duty. They had to find Daiyu. That was what they had come there to do. He looked to his sister, trying to non-verbally convey his gratitude. She gave him a slight nod in response, which was a good sign, before turning to face the hallway.

“Daiyu!”

Iamos all but jumped out of his skin at Azura’s yell. Heart pumping fit to burst, he shot a glare at his sister, who promptly ignored his discomfort. Was it the most logical thing to do? In short: yes. Could she have warned him? Probably not. He tried to still his nerves as he scanned the cells, anxiety building. He couldn’t properly see any of the people in them, but she surely would have responded to her name. Surely.

Azura called out again, and the noise appeared to break some kind of invisible barrier as all of the prisoners began to mutter amongst themselves, as the began to give in to curiosity. Another painful second or two passed before a reply echoed out.

“Hello?”

“Daiyu!” Azura began to run forwards, only to almost trip over her dress – Iamos grabbed her arm and pulled her back upright, before calling out again.

“Where are you?”

“F- Follow my voice!” She replied. There was a quiver in said voice that Iamos picked up on, recognising the tone as similar to the one she had used when they had first met, and she had been cornered. She was afraid.

“We’re coming.” He said, strongly, his voice echoing out around the chamber. “We’re coming.”

A bang rang out from one of the further cells. The metal bars clattered in their sockets. Squinting, Iamos could just make out a hand sticking through the bars, waving them over.

Azura took off again, this time remember to keep ahold of her dress. Iamos hastily followed, cloak billowing behind him like a cape as he sprinted alongside his sister, skidding to a stop outside Daiyu’s cell so abruptly that he almost slipped over on the damp floor. He could barely make out her form, so dark were the surrounds, but he could see her figure strain to reach them through the bars. Without thinking, he clasped Daiyu’s hand in his own.

“We’re getting you out of here.” He said. “I promise.” He then proceeded to block out whatever Azura and Daiyu were saying – the two appeared to start talking to one another – and looked around the cell. The bars were metal, and he couldn’t do metal. However, everything else was stone and earth.

Piece of metaphorical cake.

“Step back.” He ordered, releasing Daiyu’s hand. She faltered for a moment, before nodding and retreating into the depths of her cell. After she had done so, the ground below her cell began to move upward, constricting and crushing the bars as they were pushed against the ceiling. Metallic screeches and cracks echoed throughout the hallway, and the ambient muttering that had begun earlier was now completely silent – presumably, everyone was staring at what was happening. Stepping back to avoid one bar as fell towards him, Iamos then carefully moved the central portion of stone and earth back into the ground whilst leaving the rim of the block he had raised in its new position. The result was something a bit low to the ground, akin to an impromptu doorway – but it was easily high enough for Daiyu to duck under, which she hastened to do, panting and scrabbling on the stone as she stood up and almost ran out of the cell. Straight towards him.

Before Iamos could say anything, Daiyu had latched herself to him like a leech. He tensed up at the contact, stumbling backwards and almost outright falling backwards. Instead, however, he managed to control himself, even tentatively placing his hands on Daiyu’s shoulders once he realised that she was hugging him. They stood still for a moment before she suddenly crumpled, Iamos letting out a wheeze as he was pulled down by the neck, the two sinking to their knees. Frowning, Iamos was about to try and get Daiyu to let go of him – he was given pause, however, by the realisation that she was crying.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck as she wept, wrapping her arms around him in an embrace so tight that he genuinely struggled to breathe. It was as though she was afraid of disappearing or being spirited away. He felt for her, in spite of himself. Slowly and awkwardly, he patted her shoulder as she sobbed. He half-expected Azura to laugh or make fun of them, but instead, he saw her crouch down beside the pair, and tenderly stroke Daiyu’s head in what he recognised as an expression of sympathy and comfort. Daiyu wriggled in his grip, as if trying to grasp any remaining semblance of comfort. She was saying something, words choked by sobs. As if he didn’t have enough to focus on already-! He tried to make out what she was saying.

“…Thank you.” She spoke with a shudder, heaving in gasps of air as repeated it over and over again. “Thank you. T-Thank you. Thank you. Thank you…!”

Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, Iamos tightened the embrace, hesitantly clinging to her in turn. He tried to steady his own breathing, even though he was being hit with wave after wave of relief and gratitude. He blinked back tears of his own.

“…It’s alright.” He managed to say. “We’re here. We’re here, now.”

“We’re all here.” Azura added. “We came to get you.”

Daiyu sobbed harder.

Azura looked pointedly as Iamos, who shrugged. What was he supposed to do in this situation?

“We have,” Azura said pointedly, “only so much time.”

That was true, Iamos realised. They had to reconvene with Loden and Miyuki and then get out of there without being caught – which would be especially hard now that the guards were onto them. He patted Daiyu’s shoulders again.

“To be continued?” He suggested, finding it to be the least confrontational phrase he could come up with. A heartbeat – then Daiyu nodded, and began to loosen her grip around his neck and shoulders. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Daiyu leant back and rubbed her eyes, brushing away the traces of her gratitude-induced hysteria. She was wearing a grubby long tunic that looked like it had been fashioned from spare cloth, which was stained and damp. How frightening must it have been, he wondered, to be trapped here? Before he could think of anything to say, someone called out from one of the cells.

“What about us?”

Is was as though that question had opened some kind of floodgate. Within moments, everyone was shouting, begging, calling out to them. To him. They wanted to be let out of their cells too. He could feel his breathing grow ragged. Their voices slurred into one ugly mass of noise, burrowing its way into his ears and invading his head, even after he clamped his hands over his ears. It was too much. Too much. He wasn’t sure if it was the stress of everything or how tightly Daiyu had held onto him or the fact that she had been so emotional (which made him emotional) or the fact that everyone was shouting at him – it was probably some kind of mixture – his knees trembled and he hunched over, trying to sink into his cloak and just get away-

There was a lot of spit in his mouth. He gasped, no longer breathing through his nose, staring at the ground as he tried to collect his composure. He sucked in a shaky breath before forcing himself to swallow and clear his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Daiyu reaching out to him. He recoiled without thinking, pulling away and twitching. Everything was white noise. For a terrible moment, he wanted to just curl up into a ball and ignore everything. Sink into himself and give himself time to come to terms with the sensory overload. But he couldn’t. They had to go. They had to get out of there. They had to…

Iamos lifted his head just in time to lock eyes with one of the people in the cells. This person wasn’t shouting. Not screaming, not pleading with him, not kicking up a storm. They just gave him a look that told him everything. A look that, without using any painful words or sounds or sensations, talked of their fear and their pain and their misery.

A look that said, “help me. Please.”

Logically, it was a very bad decision. He knew that. But he understood one fundamental truth: if he saved himself and left everyone else in their cells, he would carry a guilty weight with him for a very long time. And nothing was worth that.

Clawing back some level of composure, he rose again. Stabilising his breathing, he stood up straight, sighting through his nose, before turning to the nearest cell. Same procedure, really. Raise the ground, then create a new opening. In what felt like seconds, no less than three people were stumbling out of the cell adjacent to Daiyu’s, walking on unsteady legs. One of them turned to face him, tears brewing in his eyes (for it was a man).

“Thank you.” He said, his voice a hoarse whisper in the cavern. The muttering was back, but Iamos blocked it out. He had to block it out. He nodded, once, in response before turning and addressing the corridor.

“I’ll let you all out.” He said. “It’ll take time. The guards already know we’re here somewhere, so I don’t know how long I have. Sorry in advance if I can’t get all of you out, but in the meantime, I need you all to be quiet. I don’t want there to be any more indicators than necessary that I’m here.”

The muttering died down, and he physically felt a weight leave his shoulders. There was no sound now beyond the ambient drip-drip-drip of moisture from the ceiling, and he found that to be almost soothing. Azura, Daiyu, and the other people he had saved stood back as he approached the next cell, watching him work. He couldn’t help but wonder why Azura and Daiyu hadn’t objected to his decision to help everybody. It wasn’t practical, after all. Then again, they were both compassionate sorts, from what he had noticed. They probably agreed with him, thought that it was the right thing to do. The idea brought him a little comfort.

He worked in silence, quickly breaking through the cells one by one, letting their occupants flood into the hallway. Unlike Daiyu, there were no drawn-out demonstrations of gratitude. They all understood the necessity of brevity. Instead, they stood back, occasionally almost tripping over the rocks or broken pieces of iron bar that Iamos’ alchemy left in its wake. He went systematically from cell to cell, trying to focus on the details of the alchemy and ignore the panic-inducing bigger picture. It felt as though it had taken days, yet it also felt as though no time had passed at all. It was a contradiction, but it wasn’t as though he was going to dwell on it.

Eventually, everyone was out. They stared at him, looking to him for some kind of instructions or leadership, and their attention was beginning to draw back the onset of panic. Iamos knew that he couldn’t afford to have another episode like that, so he wordlessly turned and began to walk to the entrance that he and Azura had come through. He could lower the wall, and if the guards had circled round to find another entrance, they may not be there to cut him off. He and this new group could head outside the manor, and that would be that. It was dangerous, yes, but there was safety in numbers, and-

“Wait!”

Daiyu’s voice stopped him a footstep away from the door. Turning back, he saw that she was looking at the ground, twisting her fingers around and around in a nervous gesture. She didn’t look up as she spoke.

“Some… some people were taken to tonight’s auction.” She said. “Can we help them, too?”

First reaction? A number of swear words rattling around in his head, as though he had been temporarily possessed by a tantrum-throwing adolescent.

Second reaction? Practical considerations. Those who had been taken may well have gone already, and they would almost certainly have a guard of some kind. He didn’t want to put anyone in danger.

“Can we?” He heard himself asking, almost as if he was observing a stranger. “You all know the routines better than I do. Is there anything that can be done?”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, one man stepped forward, the echo of his bare feet hitting the stone floor rebounding around the hallway.

“When we’re sold, they usually take people into a room down there.” He pointed to the far end of the corridor, in the opposite direction. “They use magic to bond people to them, but there’s still an opportunity to get free before the ceremony.”

“Magic?” Azura echoed, alarmed, though this barely registered to Iamos. He turned to the assembled crowd.

“What do the rest of you think?”

There was a low hum of voices. Iamos could make out some instances of assent and some instances of dissent, but no decisive decision appeared to be reached.

“My friend.” He heard Daiyu’s voice. Was she speaking to him, or to someone else? He wasn’t sure. “She helped me when I was at my lowest point, and she was taken up. If there’s any chance that we can save her…” She trailed off. He clenched his fists anxiously. Like it or not, he knew what his choice was going to be. What it always would be.

“Your friend. It wouldn’t-” he trailed off as everyone paid attention to him again, before sucking in another slow breath and composing himself again, turning to face Daiyu. Making that oh-so-important eye contact, to show her the seriousness of his words. “It wouldn’t be right, to leave her behind. Or any of the rest of them.” He turned to the man who had spoken. He didn’t know his name, but that didn’t matter. None of it did. “Lead the way.”

**********

The traipse down the corridor was quick. Iamos and the man guiding him were at the head of the procession. They were followed by Azura, Daiyu, and all of the other people he had freed – how many, he wasn’t sure, though it was probably something between thirty or forty individuals.

After all of the earlier commotion, the silence was deafening.

Iamos an eye out for any guards heading towards them, but no-one came. Something of a silver lining. Perhaps the guards assumed that his wall was some kind of temporary magic, or perhaps there was no other easy entrance into this basement (which was really more a set of catacombs than anything else). Either way, he wasn’t going to complain.

They happened upon the aforementioned “room” within a relatively short space of time. Placing a finger to his lips, the young man crept towards the doorway. It was closed, but some kind of red light shone out from under the door. Going by the stereotype, a glowing red light was a bad sign, but Iamos followed, shuffling slowly along the ground to make as little noise as possible. All of the prisoners must have been used to keeping quiet, because they were wordless – and even Azura managed not to say anything. He was thankful that whatever compulsion she had to fill the silence appeared to be suppressed by the knowledge of how dangerous their situation was.

Turning to Iamos, the man spoke in a low whisper.

“It’s some kind of ritual.” He said. “No-one knows the exact details. But it’s some kind of magical bond that is created between the buyer and the slave. Once it is done, I do not think it is physically possible for the slave to leave the master.” His scowled. “It’s some bad magic.”

Iamos nodded in affirmation. If that was true, they only had so much time. Meanwhile, Azura crept past the two of them and put her ear to the door. This lasted for a few seconds before she turned to Iamos, and mouthed:

“Someone’s in there!”

Iamos nodded and then asked, “What are they saying?” He tried to keep his voice quiet, but he had to hiss to get the message across to Azura. Everyone froze for a moment at the loud noise, but they remained undisturbed, and they eventually relaxed ever-so-slightly. They were still safe. Azura crawled back to where Iamos was standing (pressed flat against the wall) and stood up.

“I have no idea.” She admitted. “It’s a language that I don’t understand.”

“Was naming mentioned, or something of the sort, mentioned?” Someone else asked. Iamos looked behind him. A woman. Azura furrowed her brow, then nodded. The woman shook her head in dismay.

“It’s too late for that one.” She said in dismay.

“You can be sure?” Iamos said in surprise. The woman nodded.

“All of the other enchantments, such as bonding, are added to a person first. After that, their new master is named so that they can be bound to that specific person. If they are already about to name a master, the enchantment is on them either way. At least, that’s all that I’ve overheard.”

“Couldn’t we just interrupt?” Suggested Azura, even as Iamos thought. He shook his head.

“I only have… so much arcane experience.” He said, still whispering, making sure to not use the word “alchemy”. That was one can of worms he had no intention of opening, especially not at such a crucial moment. “And in my experience, cutting something off halfway can backfire. This spell sounds powerful – who knows what might happen if we actually make it fail?”

While they were talking, Daiyu had crept to the door. There was a keyhole below the handle, which Iamos noticed her stare through. Just as he finished his thought, she turned back to him in a panic.

“That’s Akane!” She said. “My friend!”

“Uther’s ghost.” Iamos and Azura both darted towards the door. Behind it, Iamos could hear muffled words.

“…bron wedi'i wneud. And to complete the final segment.”

Iamos looked back to Daiyu, who looked catatonic. What was he supposed to do? By his side, Azura tensed.

“Name the master,” continued whoever was speaking in the other room, “who comes to claim this servant.”

The next moment was nothing more than that. A moment. And yet-

Azura, in one frantic and energized moment, most likely using all of the nervous energy she had built up, all but jumped up and frantically twisted the door handle so far Iamos couldn’t help but wonder if she had broken something. The door fell open, and Iamos – who had been leaning on said door – fell on his side, head painfully knocking against the stone floor. Hissing in pain, he looked up to see a glowing red light from some kind of magic circle, and over a dozen very startled-looking people. However, he didn’t have time to process anything before his sister screamed out loud:

“Iamos Wilder!”

It didn’t hurt: that was the odd thing. It was slightly uncomfortable, a little too hot, but it didn’t feel painful. Nevertheless, he clamped his hand over his shoulder (the left one) as though it had been stabbed. Fingers twitching, he felt the warm feeling persist, moving around slightly as if there were some kind of eel under his cloths. Under his skin. He hoped there wasn’t.

The red light died down, and all was quiet for a moment. Then, there were footsteps. Azura stumbled backwards and out of the chamber as a figure, ignoring Iamos, sprinted past in some kind of attempt to catch her. Before Iamos could do anything, they reached the corridor, and proceeded to be tackled by Azura and several other people, who grabbed onto their limbs and restrained them. Rising to his feet, Iamos looked into the chamber to survey everything else. About eight people in rags, the same number in formal wear, guards, and one man in red robes who was glowering at him in apoplectic fury. Unconsciously, Iamos clenched his shoulder again.

“You-!” He hissed, starting forward. Not thinking, Iamos focused. The rock around the man’s feet rose jerkily, causing him to stumble and fall forwards. A bit of the ground rose up to meet his stomach, slamming into his abdomen. Winded, the red-robed man rolled over onto solid ground, huffing and trying to catch his breath. Everyone else stepped back in fear as Iamos rose. He wasn’t sure how he must have looked, then – some kind of mess with his formal wear dishevelled and any semblance of pretence completely gone. But seeing as everyone appeared to be hesitating…

“You.” He pointed to all of the figures clad in sparse clothing, like the ones who had been in the cells. They were all staring at him. Seven or so of them were towards the back of the room, chained together with an armed guard on either side. One sat in the middle of the room clutching her shoulder. With a start, Iamos realised that: a.) this was probably Akane, Daiyu’s friend, b.) they had been “bonded” together with magic, and c.) he had absolutely no idea what the magic bond entailed beyond not being able to be separated. He supposed that they would have to figure that out later. “With me.”

One of the people in formal wear took an angry step forward. “I won’t have this!” She said, crossly. “I paid good money for my…” She trailed off as Iamos turned his gaze towards her. An anger was brewing in his chest at the injustice of the situation, and he wasn’t about to tolerate it.

“You bought a human being, with the intention of having them serve you against their will. You bought someone who was taken off the streets, against their will. You bought someone who was going to be magically bonded to you just so they could be a better servant.” His eyes narrowed with ill-concealed disgust. And it was disgust. He was disgusted. How could they? “I don’t care what money you paid. You could have paid every coin to your name, and it wouldn’t be enough. People aren’t objects, and they aren’t property. And you would do well to remember so.” With that, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, only just remembering to shout “Prisoners, to me.”

The ones who had been in that room scampered after him, joining him in the hallway to group up with everyone else who had been in the cells. Without saying a word, Iamos turned and began to walk back the way he came. Under almost any other circumstance, he would have been scared to venture back – what if someone was lying in wait, either by the cells or behind his wall, waiting to attack? However, a cold fury still flowed through his veins. If someone wanted to fight him, so be it. At that moment, he would have liked nothing more than to pummel someone into submission.

“Akane!” Daiyu shouted as she recognised her friend. Iamos turned his head, and he had been right – she was the one he was now “bonded” to. Well, that was an issue. He supposed that the first thing he ought to do was to make sure that he didn’t forget her name, because doing so would be hugely awkward given their situation. Akane. Akane. Ah-car-nay.

“Daiyu.” Akane greeted her friend in a surprisingly muted fashion. Perhaps she was tired. He was tempted to stop for a brief moment, but shook his feelings away. The longer the stayed, the less chance there was of an escape. Time was still of the essence.

“We’re going back the way we came?” Azura asked him, running until she was by his side (though she was still sort-of running to keep up with his long strides).

“Yes.” Iamos said, simply. “We have what we came for and then some. What we need to do now is find Loden and Miyuki, and then leave.”

“I guess stealth is out of the option.” Azura filled in. “Are we going to take all of them with us when we find our friends?”

“Don’t think we have a choice.” Pointed out Iamos, before shrugging. “Besides, if they were already sealing the deal down there, then the auction must be over. I’d say that our best bet is to head straight for the front gate, and hope that the others are there.”

“W-wait!” Daiyu called, pushing through the crowd to reach his other side. “Won’t there be guards? We’ll have to fight?”

“Fine by me.” Iamos said, simply. Because, in all honesty, on this particular occasion, it was. There had been moments in Iamos’ life such as this, where he had felt his anger give him strength – he had never acted on it in the past, thanks in part to the restraining influence of Rainer. But now, not only was Rainer gone, but the past few weeks had easily been the most stressful of Iamos’ life, between Rainer and Aedus and the moving around and the crazy stressful events that seemed to have been happening nonstop since leaving his village. Now, his friend had been kidnapped, he had been subjected to hours of tension and moments such as everyone’s attention being on him (which had bordered on being physically painful), and he still had a responsibility to get everyone out. The worst part was that he couldn’t logically stop himself, because his logic was in agreement with his anger. These people had kidnapped other people to turn them into slaves. It was probably the least they deserved. It was only the responsibility he had to his sister, to Daiyu, to Loden and Miyuki, and to everyone else, that kept him from abandoning the plan and actively seeking out a fight there and then. For them, he forced himself to retain a certain level of reasonable-ness.

It was fanciful of him, but he thought to himself that he could almost feel his anger, flowing through him as surely as the blood in his veins. It was a peculiar, contradictory sort of feeling – most people, he had noticed, associated anger with shouting and erratic behaviour and a violent storm that quickly wore itself out. Some sort of explosion of emotion that never lasted long. It had never been that to him, though. He had always known is as a slowly-building fountain of energy that cooled his veins and head, heightening his senses and hyperfocusing him on the object of his fury. He couldn’t remember ever shouting, when he was angry. When he was truly angry. He could only remember a certain lapse of standards. A certain abandonment of inhibitions and carefully-constructed restraints. After all, he would never normally not only march towards a fight, but anticipate it. He would never normally look forward to violence and wish to use the power he had to leave a wake of destruction.

He did now.

Before he even realised, they were back by the cells, walking past them and approaching the door, the hole in the wall, and the stone wall just outside that Iamos had initially risen. Without wasting a beat, Iamos focused first on the walls surrounding the door (to create more room for the complete group) and then the wall that he had made. Emotions swirling within him like a tempest, he attempted to force the walls to retract. Their movements were erratic, however – some shuddered and glitched as they moved, and some remained where they were. His bangs slipped and fell in front of his face, partially covering his eyes as he tried again, flexing his muscles as he tried to extend his control over the earth. (The muscle thing was unnecessary, but by this point he wanted a physical way to release his anger. It felt good.) The remaining walls exploded, chunks of earth and stone gushing in all directions like burst dams. The transmutation must have backfired, he dimly realised as the way back up to the mansion finally cleared.

He was out of luck – there was no-one there. The guard he and Azura had run over to pass must have retreated to notify his superiors of the situation. Briefly, he wondered whether the first guard was still at the top of the stairs, where he had fallen after Azura had stabbed him.

It was this thought that actually gave his fury pause. Not only had he been anticipating an encounter with someone who had already been defeated (and badly hurt as a result), but he had suddenly remembered the uncomfortable feeling he had had when he had watched his sister fight with the screw. He would she feel, he wondered, if the situation was reversed? Granted, alchemy was rarely as visceral, but even so…

Conflicting feelings welled up inside of him, and he forced himself to acknowledge them both – use the righteous fury to keep him active and moving whilst embracing that feeling of discomfort, that feeling of wrong-ness, to hold him back and prevent him from getting himself into any more trouble than necessary. A balance. Yes, that was a good way to look at it. Stowing his quivering hands in the pockets of his jacket, he began to walk forward again, leading the former prisoners up the stairs and into the brightly-lit hallways of Evercrest mansion. Wasting no time, he kept walking, even as groans erupted from the people behind him (whether it was fatigue or discomfort at the light, he was neither sure nor bothered).

“Is everyone still with me?” He asked, to be met with a mumbled chorus of assent. Not wanting to place himself any further into the limelight, he did not speak again. Instead, he was trying to focus on navigation. The whole mansion was still winding and confusing, and he was consistently forced to stop himself from physically shaking from nerves and nervous energy as he strode forwards. All of the sound in the background slowly faded, leaving him with nothing more than the sound of his own breathing echoing in his ears. Could he remember the way out?

…vaguely.

The lefts and rights blended together in his memory once he re-took them, as though their purpose in his memory had been exhausted once he had retraced the steps. (Which was fair.) More than once, their march was brought to a halt so that the wearier members of their party – the ones who had been imprisoned for months on end – could rest, and catch their breath. But these stops always had Iamos feeling antsy. They couldn’t afford it, surely?

Sure enough, their luck ran out when they were accosted by a troop of armed guards. At least half a dozen. They stood in a row, fanning out across the hallway and completely barring their path. Each one was armed with a vicious-looking pike, a spiked metal point fused to a sturdy staff. Their appearance instigated panic. After all, what could be done against them, when most of the party was so weak? When the stand-off had begun, only Azura had seemingly remained calm, marching forward to take a place beside Iamos, and firmly clasping the screw in her hands. There were a couple of others who seemed willing to fight (Akane, he noticed, amongst them), but he held them all back, gesturing with both arms as he stepped forward.

He would have liked to tell himself that it was so no-one could get hurt, or waste their time on fighting. Emphasis on “liked to”.

He took a mental step back, surveying the situation as the guards lowered their weapons (as one – they were a smooth, cohesive unit) and flicked through all of his options.

As it was, his alchemy let him manipulate earth, water, air, ice, and sand. Those were the branches he had mastered, anyway. The surrounding hallway was built from types of stone and brick – he could technically manipulate it, but it would be difficult, considering how different it was from pure earth. Air was always an option, but he wasn’t sure how much he wanted to use air at this point. It almost felt… unsatisfactory.

His eye was drawn to the window, where outside, snow was falling thick and fast outside, by now so intense that he could barely see anything except a flurry of flakes diving past the glass. He wondered if that could work. Between water and ice, he supposed, he could manipulate snow. Yes, that would be a suitable weapon. But how to open the window without moving it? At the right frequency, sound waves could shatter glass. But it would take a bit of time, and a lot of focus, to tune the air so that producing a sound would result in the glass breaking. The guards were moving in (albeit slowly – probably erring on the side of caution due to how many prisoners there were (they were quite outnumbered)), so he didn’t exactly have long.

The “blotting out” process was simple. One by one, the objects in his peripheral sight began to fade out of focus, and the sounds blotted out into a kind of white noise, as he forced himself to direct all of his attention to the window and the air surrounding it. Then the air itself, as if he were ever-so-slightly adjusting one of the dials that helped fly the Origin. Aligning everything for the metaphorical shot. When he felt as though it were ready, he ought to-

His focus, unfortunately, was cut short by one of the guards taking a slightly too large, slightly too quick step. Snapping out of his state, he glared at the offending guard. Well, if he couldn’t use soundwaves, he could try to hit the window with an air gust forceful enough to break it-

“What are you even doing?”

For the second time, his focus was interrupted. Starting, he turned to see Azura, her hands on her hips as she stared at him. Through gritted teeth, he said:

“Trying to break the window.”

Rather than show any sympathy or thoughtfulness towards his plight, his sister rolled her eyes.

“You stupid.” She said, simply, before pulling one of her shoes – a heavyweight, heeled thing – off her foot. The sudden movement seemed to spur the guards into action, and they began to run forward in earnest towards the group, inciting a further panic amongst the prisoners. Before Iamos could even ask what Azura thought she was doing, she hefted the shoe with her arm and threw it full force towards the window. It violently shattered, sending glass shards cascading to the floor, and shocking everyone with a gust of cold air and snow.

Taking advantage of the situation, Iamos focused on the snowflakes – accelerating the stream of snow until he had all but redirected the storm to fly inside the mansion, and then getting to work with his ever-growing arsenal. Shifting the snow to water, and then ice, he launched it forward as sharp icicles that slammed into the guards’ armour and speared their bodies. He didn’t think it was anything fatal, but it was certainly enough to knock a fair amount of them down to the ground. Slivers of blood flew through the air.

One guard darted towards Iamos, intent on skewering him with his pike. In a rush, Iamos sent the entire pile of gathered snow towards the guard, the force sending him flying into the wall. Thinking quickly, Iamos shifted the snow to ice, trapping the guard where he was already pinned. He then turned his attention to the remaining couple of guards, only to find that some of the former prisoners had darted forward, and were subduing them through numbers alone, pinning them to the floor, disarming them, and beating them. Realising with a sudden sort of rush that the way was clear, he began to walk forward again (though not without aiming a violent and therapeutic kick at the nearest guard’s body).

“Let’s keep moving.”

**********

The rest of their trek through the mansion was surprisingly uneventful. There was, as ever, the tension of being accosted – though this was now overlaid with a certain confidence that came from besting a group of troops already. It was mostly just time-consuming, as Iamos continued to lead the prisoners through the halls. When the final entrance hallway came into sight – hefty wooden doors indicative of freedom – a collective sigh of breath seemed to be uttered. There were, of course, guards, but Iamos didn’t even have to use alchemy on them, as the group simply swarmed and overwhelmed them. In fact, his proudest moment came from managing to punch one in the chest as he tried to swipe at a prisoner with his sword.

Shoving the doors open, Iamos saw a few people lingering on the mansion’s lawn, most of whom seemed startled at his appearance. Two, however, began to approach him. Loden and Miyuki.

“Sue me for stating the obvious, but I guess you found her.” Loden remarked as soon as he was close enough to be heard.

“We found surplus to requirements.” Iamos explained, still walking – he didn’t want to risk stopping and then not being able to start again. “Things got a bit chaotic, though. Our best bet is to take the Origin and fly to the next city-”

Loden made a motion with his hand, before withdrawing the limb and sighing.

“Iamos. Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re in the right frame of mind to fly us anywhere.”

Was he? Of course he wasn’t. He was as stressed as he could ever remember being, he was tired, he was uncomfortable, he was wearing uncomfortable clothes, he had Daiyu’s friend to deal with because they were apparently stuck together or something-!

“That’s not fair.” He growled, referencing how he found it difficult to look people in the eyes normally. Loden appeared to recognise the reference, because he shrugged.

“Alright then. You don’t have to look me in the eyes. All you have to do is tell me. Tell me that you’re up for another flight.”

That didn’t help matters. Iamos bit his tongue, but said nothing, unable to force himself to lie. Loden rolled his eyes, and looked like he was about to say something – Miyuki beat him to it.

“If you’re finished,” she said, “we should hurry. Best to not stay here.”

Iamos nodded, before walking on. Behind him, he could hear Loden yell instructions to the prisoners.

“Alright everyone, I’m sure it’s nice to not be slaves or whatever, but we need to spit, and you probably should too. I recommend getting as far away from here as possible. I mean, I guess that’s obvious…”

Everyone slowly faded into white noise as his attention became solely fixated upon walking back to the Origin. To safety. To the closest thing he had to a home, at this point.

(If he focused hard enough, he could hear a discussion happening behind him. One between Loden and Miyuki and Daiyu – one referencing him and Akane.)

(He deliberately ignored it.)

(That was for another day.)