《Untamed [Epic Progression Fantasy]》 World map
Eight centuries since its inception, the Yatto Empire stands as the mightiest dominion beneath the heavens. Its banners stretch across land and sea, from the frostbitten reaches of Narwa to the emerald waves that caress Dartu¡¯s shores. Once a land of warring lords and fragmented clans, Yatto has been forged into a single great empire, although wicked tongues still name it the Patchwork Kingdom. Each of the seven provinces is a world unto itself, with its own customs, traditions, and even system of governance. The King Emperor, Sovereign of Yatto and Lord of All Lands Beneath the Moon, rules over this sprawling dominion from his capital, the Azure Throne. He is aided in this by the Five Fingers, a council of the most powerful and distinguished lords.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. To the west lies the sworn rival to Yatto, the Quwri Empire. It is a vast continuous land of red deserts and gilded palaces, which has clashed with Yatto for generations. Though peace is often proclaimed, the embers of war rarely grow cold. The borderlands are home to countless skirmishes, uneasy truces, and tales of legend. Fifteen years past, when the Yatto Empire trembled under the weight of insurrection, salvation came not from within but from across the western seas. The Iron League of Bironia lent their strength to the Emperor¡¯s cause. In exchange for trade privileges and political footholds, their ironclad legions helped crush the rebel forces with ruthless efficiency. Bironia''s alliance, though born of necessity, carried a cost beyond coin and treaties. Its influence seeped into the empire¡¯s courts and councils. Even now, the Iron League''s foreign customs and fervent devotion to the Broken God stir unease. PROLOGUE: Face to Face

PROLOGUE

Just a few hours before he assassinated the King Emperor¡¯s heir, Eshaad had been nursing his third cup of wine while thinking of home. The clink of clay and copper cups against wooden tables were a poor backdrop for his thoughts. Eshaad sat with his back to the wall¡ªthe eunuch masters taught him well¡ªhis eyes scanning the room partly out of habit, partly out of anxiety. He would have preferred some mare milk instead of this bitter palm wine, but the Red Guards were forbidden from bringing any. Should these weak-boned easterners take one whiff of the stuff, the truce will die that same moment, their sergeant joked. They were on a diplomatic mission here, and the only thing he needed to worry about was the safety of the ambassadors. But still, how could a grown man reject mare milk? Eshaad shook his head. This place was too foreign. Around him, the Yattoshi guards joked and laughed in their harsh accents. They were at home here. He grew tired of their constant banter, but other Red Guards did not share his reservations. The room smelled of sweat and damp leather, and the floor was sticky with sweet plum wine. They ran out of the stuff hours ago and now were down to palm wine (which Eshaad didn¡¯t mind that much) and moss wine (which he refused to try). Men only drank this heavy at a wedding and a funeral. Eshaad couldn¡¯t tell which one was happening now. Two empires, bound by bloodshed, soon to be bound by paper, he thought solemnly, swirling the dregs of his wine. ¡°The ink dries as good as the blood and remembers only half as much.¡± That¡¯s what his father used to say. Eshaad remembered the words, even if he couldn¡¯t remember the face of a man who said them. He briefly wondered whether that man would have been proud of him. Once, long ago, a shallow youth was sent into the tutelage under eunuch masters. One fewer mouth to feed, that was all the justification his parents needed. He was broad-shouldered and prideful back then, but they had beaten that pride out of him. He held nothing against his masters. The eunuchs were no men, but they had made one out of Eshaad. ¡°Look at me now,¡± he said out loud without realizing. ¡°Whu?¡± someone asked to the right of him, then burped and went back to sleeping. Eshaad¡¯s hand brushed against a thorned, swordless hilt strapped to his belt¡ªa standard weapon of the Red Guard. A small part of him hoped he would have to use it; it¡¯s been too long since it had last drawn his blood. He wondered how many of the men in the room he could kill before they would stop him. Four? Six? Ten? The small scars along his palm itched at the thought. One of the local guards, a burly man with a gap-toothed grin, was recounting a story about a brawl he¡¯d once had with a particularly stubborn mule. A small Red Guard bannerman¡ªhis name was Leng Li or Li Lan or some combination thereof¡ªwas translating the best he could, barely keeping up with the man¡¯s abrupt storytelling. The others laughed uproariously, first at the story, then at the translation. Even Eshaad allowed himself a faint smile. ¡°Not much for drinking, eh?¡± one of the Yattoshi guards said, turning to Eshaad. His name was Juro and he had come by a few times already. ¡°Or is it not up to the Quwri standards?¡± Eshaad shrugged. ¡°Depends on how much you¡¯ve already had,¡± he replied, keeping his voice low but good-natured. ¡°This swill does the job well enough.¡± Juro laughed, slapping the table. ¡°A man of practicality! I like that.¡± The conversation returned to lighter matters, and Eshaad let his thoughts drift. He glanced toward the hearth, where a group of guards were playing khalatran. The pieces were scattered across the board haphazardly, and the men weren''t even paying attention to whose turn it was. One of the men had a symbol of a breaking wheel around his neck, Eshaad did not fail to notice. The Iron League¡¯s teachings spread like fire. The ease with which the men around him entertained themselves made him queasy. Didn¡¯t they understand what was at stake? Or had they simply grown numb to it all? One wrong move at the parlay tomorrow, a mistranslated word, a poorly timed joke, and the treaty will collapse. ¡°You¡¯re too quiet by half,¡± Juro said, pulling Eshaad from his thoughts. Eshaad hesitated, then shook his head. What was there to say? ¡°Well, enjoy the quiet while it lasts,¡± Juro roared. ¡°Come tomorrow, we¡¯ll all be running around like headless chickens.¡± Tomorrow. It couldn¡¯t come soon enough. The room felt too warm, too noisy, too suffocating. Juro did not help one bit¡ªthe man was as wide as he was tall and took up all of the space wherever he appeared. Eshaad set his cup down, nearly spilling the contents.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Fresh air,¡± he said, sensing a question in Juro¡¯s eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t drink yourself stupid. We might still be at war soon.¡± Juro laughed. ¡°I promise not to kill you too quickly, then!¡± The chill of the night hit Eshaad like a splash of cold water. The Royal Palace was quiet, the stars above scattered like pieces of amber in the dark sand. He walked along the perimeter, listening to the way his boots crunched softly against the gravel path. There was soon another sound beside him. He didn¡¯t need to turn to know it was his blood panther. The beast had been soulbonded to him for years (another standard practice of the Red Guard), and they shared one life between them. As the cool air filled his lungs, the weight in Eshaad¡¯s chest lifted slightly. But still, some ugly, rocky thoughts lay at the back of his head. Strange, how peaceful it seems, he thought, glancing toward the distant flicker of torches along the outer walls. Beyond them, the world stretched into darkness¡ªthe unknown territories of the Yatto Empire. This was the furthest to the East that he had ever been. His grandfather and father both died while the Quwri and the Yatto Empires were still at war. Eshaad scratched his blood panther behind the ear, wondering what it would be like to live and die in times of peace. Could his wish be granted tomorrow? The thought warmed him. If the treaty held, he might finally have a chance to tell Jarena how he felt. She would laugh at him, just like she had years ago when they were younger, but he wasn¡¯t the same fool anymore. He was a soldier now. Almost a captain. Surely, she would see it? Might be he¡¯d even return home with her, take care of the farmstead, and raise a family. The idea of it was almost too sweet to bear. A quiet life, can you imagine that? And if money were tight, he could still find work. The war might be ending, but smaller conflicts never do, and a soldier doesn¡¯t unlearn his trade overnight. He could be a sword for hire or a bodyguard or¡­ The blood panther stiffened suddenly, her ears pricking up. A strange sound broke the stillness. It wasn¡¯t Eshaad who heard it, not truly. But everything his blood panther heard, he did as well. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± he called. No response. Only silence. Eshaad¡¯s jaw tightened. This place is crawling with guards. No one¡¯s getting past us. Another sound¡ªcloser this time. The blood panther stopped and glanced back at him, her golden eyes gleaming in the darkness. Then, with a flick of her tail, she slipped into the shadows, her massive paws silent on the stone floor. Eshaad cursed under his breath. He didn¡¯t like her wandering off, especially not here. The Royal Palace was a maze of unfamiliar halls. The panther didn¡¯t feel any danger, but today was not the day to stay complacent. Eshaad picked his hils and winced as the thorns bit into his palm. A warm pulse spread through his veins as his blood seeped into the blade¡¯s core. It wasn¡¯t pain¡ªor, rather, it was pain he learned to ignore and send somewhere deep inside. The blood responded, as it always did. It coalesced into a thin crimson blade, razor-sharp and slightly translucent. The blade was alive. The entire process took Eshaad less than two heartbeats¡ªa sweet result of all the years of training¡ªbut also left him lightheaded. Such was the drawback of blood magic. He concentrated on the panther''s senses, and smelled nothing unusual. It''s all in my head. It always is. The corridor was darker than he¡¯d expected, the torches dimmed or extinguished entirely. Eshaad pressed on, his boots scuffing lightly against the floor. The air here felt different¡ªcooler, heavier, almost damp. He rounded a corner and stopped short. Pain shot through him like a lightning bolt. He gasped, his vision swimming, and almost lost control of his crimson blade. His panther... she was in pain. He was in pain. He felt fire growing inside of him as something burrowed in the panther''s side. ¡°Stay with me,¡± he muttered, his voice breaking. ¡°I¡¯m here.¡± The blood panther was lying down in a dark-red puddle. Why couldn''t she smell an ambush? The sound of footsteps made Eshaad freeze. They were slow, deliberate, and impossibly loud in the suffocating silence. A figure emerged from the shadows, cloaked and hooded. It moved with an eerie calm. Then, a sudden motion. Eshaad couldn''t react quickly enough and caught something sharp in his stomach. It was his panther''s time to yelp in phantom pain. With a grunt, Eshaad fell down. His crimson blade turned back into blood and was now trickling down his arm. The figure took two steps forward. Eshaad wanted to run away and scream for help but his voice caught in his throat. ¡°What¡­ who are¡­¡± ¡°¡­you?¡± His copy finished his question for him. The voice, the tone, even the way his lips curled in that same guarded sneer, all of it was an exact replica Eshaad had seen in the mirror so many times. This is all a trick of my mind. I... drank too much. This isn''t me. ¡°Are you in pain? My apologies,¡± the man with his face spoke so softly that were it not for the wound in his stomach, Eshaad might have even believed he was sorry. ¡°But it would do no good to kill you too soon.¡± Eshaad was too shocked to utter anything. And what could he say? His head was suddenly empty, save for the metal drum of pain. Was this why the panther couldn''t smell anything weird? Because it was my smell? The man shook his head and leaned in closer. ¡°I need you to talk.¡± He stuck his finger deep into the wound in Eshaad¡¯s stomach and twisted it. ¡°P-please.¡± Eshaad could barely recognize his own voice. He was wheezing and panting. ¡°No m-more, please. I yield.¡± ¡°That¡¯s better,¡± the man smiled. ¡°But you should pay attention to what I say.¡± ¡°It would do no good to kill you too soon,¡± the man said. Eshaad closed his eyes. His lips trembled from the agony that was now spreading from his stomach. ¡°You d-don¡¯t have to do this.¡± ¡°Keep talking, yes. Was that so difficult? You see, I can only hold this visage for as long as I¡¯ve talked to my target,¡± the man shrugged. ¡°A one-sided conversation can only get me so far. But maybe you¡¯d like to talk to someone else.¡± For a moment, the man¡¯s face twisted into something else. Something familiar. ¡°J-Juro!¡± The man smiled the same wide grin Juro had. ¡°What d-did you do t-t-to him?¡± ¡°He¡¯s fast asleep and not like to wake up any time soon.¡± The man¡¯s face shifted to someone else now. Eshaad didn¡¯t recognize the face. ¡°The lardass has played his role well enough. But he is Yattoshi. What we¡¯re about to do requires a Quwri.¡± Something glinted in the man¡¯s eye. ¡°Like yourself.¡± ¡°Q-q-qu¡ª¡± ¡°Quwri, yes.¡± None of this made any sense to Eshaad. ¡°W-what are you p-p-planning?¡± It took him a few moments to ask the question, but the man patiently waited without interrupting. ¡°A small mischief,¡± he said and winked at Eshaad. ¡°You will be accused of murdering the King Emperor¡¯s heir, I¡¯m afraid. Some of your friends will be found complicit. The secret police here in the Yatto Empire are no joke, and nobody likes to be boiled alive.¡± The heir to the Yatto Empire? Does he want the treaty to collapse? The Quwri and the Yattoshi will be back at war! ¡°W¡­ w¡­¡± Eshaad wanted to ask why but his tongue was stuck in his throat. The man understood. ¡°The world would be such a bore without any wars, my dear. I do so hate it when things are not in motion. A still river is not worth watching.¡± The man wagged his finger as he said it as if he was a teacher in school. He then leaned closer and looked Eshaad in the eye without blinking. Eshaad felt something roll down the corner of his eye. He hoped it was only sweat. The eunuchs taught him never to cry. ¡°But hush now,¡± the man said softly. ¡±No need to make a scene.¡± He raised a hand and placed it over Eshaad¡¯s eyes. It was a gentle, motherly gesture. Eshaad¡¯s last thoughts were of his father, the eunuchs, that fat drunkard Juro, the cup of bitter palm wine he never had the chance to finish. And Jarena. Jarena, most of all. In the end, Eshaad¡¯s wish had been granted: he died on the last, and only, day of peace in two generations. The Thirty Years¡¯ War had just ended, and the Six Years¡¯ War was about to begin. ONE: A Lone Wolf

MIKO

Silent snow descends, Embracing all in its chill. Life finds peace in white. ¨C A poem from the New Royal Collection (unknown author) When the first howl echoed through the trees, Miko wondered whether it was wolves calling in the distance or her lord father. She was not sure which outcome frightened her more. The wind was swirling again and with it came snow, wet and heavy. Miko¡¯s thick hair was a tangle of hoarfrost as she carried herself dutifully through drifts of snow that cracked beneath her feet. She sported an unruly cascade of red hair (a lucky sign, if one believed such things) and freckles scattered across her cheeks like tiny constellations (lucky again!). The living ball of fur she held tight against her heart squirmed but did not whimper. ¡°We¡¯re almost there,¡± Miko whispered, not sure whether she was talking to her companion or herself. Either way, that was a lie. She was in the middle of nowhere, further from the village than she¡¯s ever been, with nowhere to go and nothing to guide her. If only I could see the stars. She might have been able to find the directions. But the only direction she cared about right now was away. As far as possible from the village. She was in Narwa, the northernmost province, so the only logical thing was to go south. Am I? I cannot tell. When Miko first began her trek, the ground had been littered with dead brown leaves. But here, deep in the Laughing Forest, everything was still clad in white, and even the tallest trees bowed under their armor of snow. The sun was casting its last rays, and the shadows from the trees behind her crept like long fingers against the white, out to get her. Something dark croaked above her. She only caught a glimpse of black wings and heard the faint rustling of a disturbed branch. Otherwise, the only sound she¡¯d heard was the crust of last night¡¯s snow breaking under her weight¡ªand now, the howls. A few more steps. Maybe he won¡¯t take my scent, she half-thought, half-prayed. There was a small chance of that since she had been walking upwind this entire time. She could have made it further if not for the heavy bag she was carrying. Resolved to leave her home¡ªfor good this time¡ªshe packed enough food for a couple of days, an inkstone, a few brushes, and all the scrolls from her father¡¯s study that she had dared to take. With every step, the weight of the bag slammed hard against her leg: thun thun thun thun Miko couldn¡¯t help but notice that the farther she went, the longer the pauses grew between those heavy thuds. The brisk pace slowed to a walk, then to a crawl, each new step more laborious than the last. The only thing forcing her forward was the image of her father¡¯s rage if he were to catch up with her. Not IF, Miko thought with a sad smile. It¡¯s WHEN. She was losing hope almost as quickly as she was losing her strength. In the corner of her eye, she saw a thin silver shadow move and disappear. ¡°Fool.¡± It wasn¡¯t a word, not truly. It was a whisper of a whisper, faint and dull, like a painting left out in the sun for too long. I¡¯m starting to hear things. The wind must have been playing tricks on her. Another gust pierced through her layers of cloth and sent her shivering. The snow was stuck to her feet like heavy boots. If I fall, I¡¯m done. I need to move. But as she was about to make another step, the ground under her feet moved. For a split second, she couldn¡¯t tell up from down, as the world spun around her. Miraculously, she found her footing at the last moment and managed not to face-plant into the ground. She gasped for air, only now realizing how close she was to falling to her knees from exhaustion. Then, something moved beside her, and she looked up. An ice hound. She¡¯s only ever seen one in pictures, but you couldn¡¯t mistake it for anything else. Its eyes glowed an eerie blue, its breath visible in the cold air. The blue-white fur was hard to see against the snow, even at this distance. ¡°An ice hound never walks alone¡±, the old proverb said. To Miko¡¯s dismay, this proverb proved not just another empty saying as half a dozen dark shapes emerged from the snow around her. An entire pack of rabid beasts. What am I doing here? Miko thought to herself. Suddenly, her escape plan seemed so stupid. Why couldn¡¯t I just stay at home? Back home, at this hour, she would probably be reading another of her father¡¯s scrolls in secrecy. She had read close to everything she could get her hands on, nearly a dozen times over, and committed every line to memory. And now, unbidden, with a certain death staring at her face, the things she¡¯d read started flooding her mind.
ICE HOUND
Threat level: ¡ï¡ï (two stars)
Affinity: ice
A robust, thick-furred canine species, typically weighing around eight stones with a height of up to five elbows at the shoulder. Its coat is a blend of icy blue and white, with sharp, protruding icicles that emerge along the back and flanks. Average lifespan is 8-10 years, although most die younger due to their perilous habitat and predatory lifestyle. Ice hounds thrive in extreme cold and are seldom seen to the south of the Larpa province. They are territorial and will protect their hunting grounds if encroached upon. They form small packs of 3-6, led by a dominant alpha, and spend their lives following the migratory patterns of larger herbivores. Active in the early dawn and dusk hours.
The text floated in her mind for all of a fraction of a moment before the first ice hound leaped at her. Miko took a sharp step back with her hand outstretched, as if to say No, please, that wasn¡¯t me. The other hounds haven¡¯t worked up enough courage to attack yet, but they were circling closer. There must have been something useful in that bestiary. Backing away, Miko tried to think about what else it said about the hounds.
Scavengers, stalkers and hunters. Diet consists of small to medium prey.
And stupid little girls. Her heart beat once and seemed to stop. On his own, even a master like her father could not withstand the beasts like these. But he had soulbonded with a beast, which had greatly enhanced his skills and magic, and all Miko had was a tiny clump of whimpering fur, even less powerful than she was. It wasn¡¯t a matter of discipline or wit or talent. Without soulbonding, it was a gap she had no hope of crossing. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. If only she could¡­ Miko gathered her wits and tried to attune to the hounds¡¯ senses. She knew how to do this much. She hoped to feel at least a little bit of fear in them, at least a sign of weakness, but there was only rage, hunger, and hate. The only fear she felt was her own¡ªand that of the pup beside her chest. What was I thinking? Another passage from the bestiary came to her:
Primary defense mechanism: icy hide. These icicles can detach and serve as projectiles when the hound feels threatened.
Oh, great. As if by command, an ice hound a dozen steps away shook its body like a dog coming out of a river. With a flick, the icy spikes protruding from its hide propelled themselves towards Miko. She dove to the side, nearly losing her balance. The icicles embedded themselves in the show where she had just stood. Bad, bad, bad, was all Miko could repeat. She couldn¡¯t even think in full sentences. Another hound charged, launching more icicles. Miko rolled and came up on one knee. One of the icicles grazed her cheek, leaving a stinging line of cold pain. They¡¯re going to kill me, she realized suddenly. What disturbed her most was the strange calmness that accompanied this thought. There was no other way. Miko would have to rely on her blood magic now, as weak as it was. She drew a sharp breath and dragged her palm across the jagged edge of her belt buckle until the skin broke. Blood welled up, warm and thick, pooling into her trembling hand. She focused, willing the crimson stream to harden, to take shape. For a moment, the blood shimmered and began to coil into something resembling a blade, but the edges wavered, trembling as though mocking her effort. Concentrate. Concentrate. Then, with a sickening lurch, it all collapsed back into liquid, slipping through her fingers and staining the snow at her feet. Not enough¡­ it¡¯s not enough! Miko¡¯s heart pounded. Her arm throbbed, and a sharp, searing pain shot through her shoulder. The wound wouldn¡¯t close by itself, she knew. A bleeder¡¯s disease, they called it. A tiny graze could be a death sentence if you weren¡¯t careful. An incredibly rare disorder (lucky again!). It took precious extra energy, energy she barely had, to force the wound closed. But it was either that or bleeding to death. Or¡­ A sudden thought occurred to her and in one swift move, she turned her bag over. A myriad of different items dropped into the snow. Was I really carrying all of that? No wonder I¡¯m tired. A well-worn inkstone, a brush wrapped in cloth, a small pouch of salted plums, some herbal salves, a faded good luck charm. And then, there it was. An oil lamp. Before she could even formulate her plan, the lamp was already in her hand. It was a small, compact thing and, thankfully, pre-filled with oil. She threw it hard against the larger hound, hoping against hope that it would break on its hide. It did. The hound did not like it. It let out a low, rumbling growl and lunged at Miko. Miko¡¯s breath was coming in short bursts and her heart didn¡¯t seem to beat at all. All of the world around her narrowed to one sensation¡ªblood trickling down her hand. The hound¡¯s lunge was a bit too predictable. It¡¯s like I¡¯m seeing everything in slow motion, it occurred to her suddenly. She recalled the stories of soldiers who, moments before supposedly sure death, experienced the same feeling. They lived to tell the tale, and so will I. As soon as she jumped out of the hound¡¯s way, Miko snapped with her blood-coated fingers. Immediately, she felt warmth in her fingertips. Transmuting blood into fire was a child¡¯s play. Even Miko, who was banned from training by her father, knew how to do that. A tiny flame erupted, barely more than a spark, but a spark was more than enough. In a flash, the oil on the ice hound''s fur blazed to life. Flames roared up its back, sending waves of orange and yellow across the clearing. The hound howled, thrashing as it tried to shake off the fire, but the oil clung to its fur like a blanket. The other hounds could do nothing but watch the burning beast thrash in the snow, snarling and rolling. It was in a colossal amount of pain¡­ but it was still alive. For just a few precious moments, Miko felt uncertainty in them. Was this prey worth the effort? Then, they circled around the burning beast, slowly, their eyes now fixed on Miko. Miko backed away, her breath now a chain of ragged gasps. Her vision blurred, and for a moment she was afraid she was losing consciousness. But it was only tears. What can I do? What can I do? She took a quick step back, and another scroll slipped from her robe, tumbling into the snow, unrolling. Instinctively, stupidly, she bent down to catch it. The largest hound leaped, its maw wide, teeth bared. Time seemed to freeze, and Miko couldn¡¯t feel her heartbeat for what felt like an eternity. Then, fire. A wall of fire, as high as her, erupted in front of her. It lit up the night and melted the snow all around her, the way her weak flame never could. The hounds yelped and jumped back as a massive shadow descended from the sky. Father. A large banewolf¡ªLord Takami¡¯s banewolf¡ªmoved with lethal grace. The ice hounds, now faced with a far superior foe, snarled and snapped but they must have felt that they were outmatched. Still, the lead hound, larger and more vicious than the rest, lunged at the banewolf. With a swift, powerful strike, the banewolf slashed through the air, sending a cascade of ice shards at the hound, piercing its fur and sending it howling into the night. Another hound tried to flank the banewolf, but it was met with a blast of icy wind that froze it mid-leap, turning it into a lifeless statue that shattered when it hit the ground. The remaining hounds hesitated. The price of attacking was too high even for them. Then, the banewolf made a blood-curdling roar. That was enough to make the ice hounds break away and scatter. For half a heartbeat, Miko wanted to run away with them. The banewolf turned to look at her. Uh-oh. It stood like a statue chiseled out of marble, as white as the surroundings, almost as if someone fashioned it out of snow. The fur on its back was alive, like fire. The only bright spot was its impossibly red tongue. And eyes. The cold yellow eyes glared at her, but it was her father''s eyes¡ªLord Takami¡¯s eyes¡ªshe saw behind them. she heard her father¡¯s voice inside her head. The sound of her name dripped with poison. ¡°Father,¡± Miko said, her voice muffled by the makeshift scarf across her nose and mouth. The ball of fur under her robe stirred, as she hugged it tighter. the banewolf asked without saying. He loudly exhaled flame that was hot enough to melt the snow around him. Such was the power of a true soultamer. ¡°I never intended to shame you,¡± Miko said meekly. ¡°I only wanted to...¡± The words got caught in her throat. What could she say that would satisfy him? ¡°...wanted to...¡± the banewolf growled at her, his fur bristling. It moved closer, almost as tall as she was, and Miko felt its breath puff into her face, white and warm, oh so warm. ¡°I am not a child anymore,¡± she protested. Lord Takami agreed, much to her surprise. The last part wasn¡¯t a request. Her father never made requests. ¡°Yes,¡± Miko agreed. What little strength she still had, the cold sapped out of her. the banewolf glared, no doubt sensing her weakness. Miko bit the inside of her cheek. ¡°Yes, Takami-o-toki,¡± she replied after a moment¡¯s hesitation. Even after all these years, she hated having to address her father like that. None of her half-brothers did. They turned back, both of them. No, there¡¯s three of us, Miko reminded herself, feeling the tiny heartbeat next to hers quicken. She half-expected to see that silver shadow again on their way back home, but father¡¯s banewolf must have scared it off. The wind that blew in her face all the way from the village was now mercifully pushing her in the back, filling the sleeves of her robe like a sail. Even so, she struggled to keep pace with the banewolf. The beast was limping on the hind leg, just like its owner, but otherwise, it was quick and agile and knew the forest well enough. A couple of times, she once again imagined she saw a silver shadow but surely her father¡¯s banewolf would have smelled an intruder. ¡°Fool.¡± Miko kept replaying this word in her mind. She knew someone said it. If not father, then who? The wounds on her fingers finally closed, which didn¡¯t stop them from throbbing with a dull pain. A pleasant reminder for a pleasant trip. Before long, they were back at the village. It was the hour of the Rat, so thankfully not many gawkers would be there to witness her disgrace. Miko only prayed that Genki would not be among the few who were. She would hear no end to his mockery. Her father stood in the distance, alone as always. His back was turned, but Miko could just about picture him crossing his thin, sinewy arms against his chest in anger. His robe looked almost black against the moonlight, as black as his sash, and on his back he bore the proud family crest of Takami¡ªa black triangle facing upwards, with four dots above, two on each side. A wolf¡¯s paw.
It was her father¡¯s crest, and her half-brothers¡¯. But not hers. Only when the banewolf approached her lord father, did he turn. Lord Takami patted the beast and limped closer. ¡°A runaway,¡± he spat, wrinkling his nose. He stood as a man before her now, not a beast, yet his expression seemed just as wild. At least his voice no longer reached deep inside her mind. A small mercy, that. ¡°Your good daughter got lost in the forest. It was gracious of Takami-o-toki to have searched for me,¡± Miko bowed as low as her tired back allowed. She braced herself for an outburst, but Lord Takami simply snorted in derision. ¡°You tried to rob your brothers of their heritage. The pup is not intended for you.¡± ¡°They¡¯re not my brothers,¡± Miko protested. It came off more bitter than she intended. She didn¡¯t hate her half-brothers. How could she? Lord Takami ignored the outburst. ¡°You will return the pup at once. Same for the scrolls. Do not argue.¡± Miko didn¡¯t plan to. She unwrapped her robe and let the pup poke out its nose. It was a tiny creature, more fur than muscle, yet one day it would grow up four times as heavy as Miko. Father¡¯s banewolf took the pup from her trembling hands. ¡°We will deliberate on how best to punish you later,¡± her father continued. ¡°No doubt you will find a better excuse in the morning.¡± Lord Takami turned sharply and left, the banewolf padding silently at his side. Alone at last, Miko took a deep breath, letting the frigid air sting her lungs. The wind shifted, carrying with it faint murmurs of late activity from the village square¡ªa world she felt increasingly unfamiliar with. Far in the distance, a wolf howled again. She knew how he felt. TWO: Mother Knows Best

MIKO

In the beginning, the god of Sun laid down with Earth. Where he spent his seed, the islands of our kingdom first took shape. But Moon, who wanted children of her own, grew envious of their creation. She brewed a potent drink, which Sun drank deeply and succumbed to a deep slumber. Moon mounted the sleeping Sun, and the seed he spilled became the stars. When Sun awoke, so did his fury. He drew his fiery sword and vowed to strike down every single star. Each night, a dozen stars fall, but they are too numerous for any god to handle. Then he cursed Moon to be devoured by her children. Each lunar cycle, the Moon''s body dwindles to nothing while stars consume her. As nights pass, she gains her form again, and the torment begins anew. ¨C The Song of Sun and Moon (author unknown) ¡°You missed a few spots. Here and here. You see?¡± Miko looked at where Old Mother pointed. She saw no dirt there but she was too exhausted for any protestations. She dutifully mopped the floor and looked at her reflection on the wet surface. The bags under her eyes¡ªthe result of all her late-night reading sessions¡ªwere even more prominent than usual. And she was tired, oh so tired. If any of the other people in the temple were to glance at her and Old Mother, they would have trouble saying which of the two was the old priestess. Old Mother had thin parchment instead of skin and her hair was the color of ash, but she was annoyingly energetic and loud. Even her clothes were loud. Although her heavy woolen skirt was dyed a deep black that had faded to charcoal over the years, there were bold vertical stripes in crimson, indigo, ochre, and a few other colors Miko couldn¡¯t name. Her linen blouse had gone soft from countless washings and had long, billowing sleeves gathered at the wrists. Embroidered just beneath the neckline were small, delicate geometric patterns in red and blue thread. Over this, she wore a thick, dark vest made of wool, fastened with simple silver clasps shaped like tiny sun and moon, polished to a muted shine. She was a bear of a woman. Well, of course she was. She has soulbonded with a horned bear, just like Lord Takami did with his banewolf. The bear sat lazily near the altar and barely paid attention to Miko. He was a well-groomed beast but his hair was thin and gray-streaked. In the wild, no horned bear could hope to live till forty, yet this one¡¯s life was forever intertwined with Old Mother¡¯s. Once the crone passed away, the bear would follow. ¡°You still missed a spot. Pay attention.¡± Old Mother knocked irritatedly at the floor with her cane. She looked wiry and frail, but Miko knew she was anything but. She could¡¯ve mopped the entire floor on her own, and twice as quickly as Miko. But this was Miko¡¯s punishment, no one else¡¯s. ¡°Yes, Old Mother,¡± she sighed. In truth, the crone was no one¡¯s mother. By decree, all Mothers were to serve their village and abstain from intimacy for their entire life. For as much as she knew about herbs, ways to mend broken bones, and how to read fortune using animal entrails, Old Mother knew nothing about less savory parts of a woman¡¯s life. Neither did Miko, for that matter, but Lord Takami had always been threatening to fix that in due time. ¡°Be dear and put your back into it,¡± Old Mother commanded. ¡°Gods know I don¡¯t have long to live and I want to see the floor squeaky clean before I croak.¡± ¡°Yes, Old Mother,¡± Miko repeated her mantra, not wanting to argue. It felt weird to call someone else Mother when Miko didn¡¯t know hers. She never heard her father speak fondly of her¡ªor in any way, really¡ªbut some details were not hard to deduce. Her mother was clearly dead, for one. If father ever loved her, he masked that well. More likely it was a short-lived affair. A momentary weakness on Lord Takami¡¯s part, the man who despised weakness. Mother could not have been a highborn lady, otherwise her father would have mentioned her heritage, at least in passing. She could not have been a common lowborn, either. It was impossible to imagine Lord Takami paying any more attention to commoners than he would a cockroach under his feet. That left only a courtesan. If this had happened during the father¡¯s time fighting in the Five General Rebellion, him still with a healthy leg atop his mighty banewolf, it might have even taken place in the royal province of Haryu. Miko read that courtesans from there wore robes of fine golden silk and had freshwater pearls woven into their hair. Her mother must have been the most beautiful of them all to have successfully seduced the unbending Lord Takami. Tried as she might, though, Miko could never imagine her mother¡¯s face. Those few features she could¡ªeyes, nose, thin mouth¡ªnever matched together. It was like looking through a foggy glass. I wonder if she also had freckles? Somehow, Miko doubted she did. It was well past noon when Miko was finally done with her first task. Old Mother carefully inspected all the nooks and crannies, shaking her head in disapproval, yet mercifully not demanding any more scrubbing. ¡°Am I done?¡± Miko asked, trying not to sound too irritated. Old Mother looked down at her as if she was another dirty surface. ¡°You are a prideful girl, Miko.¡± She sighed soundlessly. ¡°But do remember, nobody¡¯s tall when they¡¯re on their knees.¡± She tapped her cane lightly on top of Miko¡¯s head, then once more for good measure, and only then let her stand up. ¡°Do your knees hurt?¡± the old woman asked her. Miko half-shrugged, half-nodded. In truth, her knees have been screaming from a dull ache for hours, but living in Lord Takami¡¯s manor has taught her to never admit a weakness. ¡°Good,¡± Old Mother squinted at her. ¡°So you won¡¯t have the strength to run away again.¡± Miko would have rather scrubbed all floors in all the temples across the Empire than listen to another chastisement. She¡¯s had enough of those for five lifetimes over. ¡°How many more times would you attempt to escape, I wonder?¡± Old Mother said. ¡°All the better for me, I suppose. My floors will always look good as new.¡± ¡°Might be they won¡¯t find me next time.¡± Miko didn¡¯t intend to say it out loud, but words simply escaped her mouth. ¡°If your father won¡¯t find you, the beasts will,¡± Old Mother shook her head. ¡°Gods be good, Miko, what were you thinking? Going out into the woods on your own?¡± Miko avoided her gaze and stared at something in the corner. It was a mummified corpse of some saint whose corpse outlived his fame. ¡°How would you know how I feel? How would anyone know?¡± Miko whispered. She felt like screaming. If only there weren¡¯t other people in the temple.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. ¡°Do you think you are the first foolish girl in history who wanted to run away?¡± Miko stared at the great ruin of Old Mother¡¯s face. Her eyes met Miko¡¯s, unflinching. ¡°And now you¡¯re doubting I was ever young and fair.¡± ¡°I...¡± ¡°Do not fret, child. You¡¯ve caused me no offense.¡± If Miko didn¡¯t know better, she might have said that Old Mother almost smiled. ¡°I¡¯ve come to enjoy my place in life. You might very well be content with yours.¡± ¡°Do you regret it? Not having children?¡± The question was insolent even by Miko¡¯s standards, but somehow she knew she would not get in trouble for it. Not this time. ¡°Oh, but I do have children,¡± the old woman replied. ¡°An entire village of them. Four hundred and fifty-eight, by my last count.¡± ¡°Even my lord father?¡± Miko tried to picture him as an infant but all she could conjure was a small version of him, still sporting his goat-like beard. ¡°Your father especially. He is the biggest child of all,¡± the crone croaked, amused at her own joke. ¡°But do forgive him, he is only a man.¡± Miko blinked. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°When circumstances call for caution, men are zealous for action. When it is wiser to let the river flow freely, men rush to build a dam.¡± ¡°He is wise,¡± Miko protested, much to her surprise. Why am I even defending him? Old Mother made a disapproving grunt. ¡°A wise man knows to let go of a kettle when it is boiling hot.¡± Miko bit back a retort. It was always difficult to argue with Old Mother. She knew too many cryptic parables. ¡°Your father has his own path. You will have yours,¡± Old Mother¡¯s voice sounded distant. ¡°There is no shame in a more humble stature. Warriors make for rather poor farmers and merchants, and we will always need the latter.¡± Every village had to have at least one Old Mother, but why did theirs have to be so needlessly evasive? ¡°No one ever tells epic tales about merchants,¡± Miko protested. Old Mother paused as if to weigh Miko¡¯s words. ¡°There is Goncho the Woodcarver.¡± Miko scoffed. "A liar and a thief. And doesn¡¯t his tale end with his own villagers tearing him limb from limb?" ¡°Oh?¡± Old Mother feigned confusion. ¡°Please excuse this silly old woman, but I thought you wanted a spectacular death.¡± ¡°I was thinking of something more in line with Barka the Immortal.¡± Barka was a legendary outlaw in the days of the Third Empire. His exploits were so famous that every century since his passing there were at least a dozen people who swore they crossed their swords with him. Of all the heroes, Miko liked him best of all. He wouldn¡¯t have tolerated Old Mother¡¯s scolding. "I¡¯m not asking for a song about getting torn to shreds, Old Mother," she muttered. "I just want¡ª" She trailed off, knowing full well what she wanted wasn¡¯t something she could easily explain. Old Mother leaned closer, her expression softening just a touch. "Do not believe old songs, Miko. Men¡¯s hearts start beating faster only when death is but a hair¡¯s-breadth away. Honor, duty, love¡ªthose things are meaningless outside of their silly little songs." She paused and smiled mischievously with her dry, cracked lips. "But if it¡¯s a song you want, I can certainly arrange that." Before Miko could object, Old Mother clapped and began singing in a lilting tone: "Brave little Miko, off through the snow, Chasing her tail with nowhere to go, Fire in her hand, flame weak as her pride, Oh oh, But the hounds had no care for the flames she supplied." Other people in the temple turned to see what all this ruckus was about. Miko tried sticking her fingers in her ears to little avail. This only incited Old Mother to continue even louder: "She stumbled and tumbled, her scrolls in a mess, Her courage, it faltered, her journey a test, But here she returns, with no tale to boast, Oh oh, Just the wind at her back, and Old Mother to roast." Finally, mercifully, she was done. "There. A song fit for a warrior... or a woodcarver. Your choice." Miko could feel her face burning, half in embarrassment and half in anger. "That¡¯s not the kind of song anyone would want.¡± The crone chuckled. "What you want and what you need are as opposite as the sun and moon. The world doesn''t owe you a tale just because you seek one. You¡¯ll write it yourself, or not at all, you little fool." Fool. This word again. The one she heard back then in the Laughing Forest. Miko tried to convince herself that she misheard it. Surely, that was only a gust of wind and a play of her imagination. But then she saw that silver shadow in her mind again, and the word Fool was ringing in her ears. ¡°Were beasts ever capable of speech?¡± she wondered out loud, already knowing the answer. ¡°Only in legends, tales, and songs,¡± the crone shook her head. ¡°There are certain breeds of birds that you can teach to mimic your speech, but that¡¯s the extent of it. When a man binds the beast to himself, he may talk through it with a mind-link.¡± Miko remembered the way her father¡¯s voice thundered inside her head when his banewolf was staring her down. No, that wasn¡¯t it. The Fool sounded different. "I know about soulbonding. A beast and a man entrust their lives to one another and become stronger together," she tried not to sound too bitter saying this. She was forbidden from ever taming a beast, not that this could ever stop her from trying. "But how did soulbonding originate, anyway?¡± Miko asked. She¡¯d been wondering that for the longest time, but when it came to certain subjects, father¡¯s scrolls were as secretive as Lord Takami himself. ¡°Come, I want you to see something.¡± Old Mother shuffled through the temple, and Miko followed. The old horned bear opened one of his eyes, waited a good minute, and only then walked the same way, grunting and yawning the entire time. When they came to an inner sanctum, Miko found herself standing in a garden. It was a quiet, secluded place that Old Mother had tended for years. Old Mother knelt by the flowers, her eyes softening as she motioned to the plants. ¡°Look at the sunbloom and the ginger lotus here.¡± Miko looked and saw nothing out of the ordinary. ¡°Alone, the lotus withers beneath the summer sun, which is why it seeks refuge in the sunbloom¡¯s shade. But their companionship is not one-sided,¡± Old Mother raised her finger. ¡°The fragrant lotus draws insects and birds, who carry the sunbloom''s pollen to other fields. And when the lotus petals fall, they return to the earth, enriching the soil, feeding the sunbloom so it can grow even stronger. One cannot flourish without the other.¡± She turned to face Miko and, visibly disappointed by her silence, continued, ¡°Mankind and beasts are no different. We are cut from the same cloth.¡± Miko was still silent. "Consider this, girl. Without beasts, our magic is imbalanced and cannot be maintained. I''m sure you''re aware." Miko knew that, of course. She had tried so many times to conjure a weapon or turn her blood into giant flames. The best she could do was a small spark. It was a small miracle she was even capable of that, considering her disease. ¡°But nature is not infallible," the crone said. "Did you know that a lionboar¡¯s tusks will continue to grow until they pierce his own skull? Without man, many beasts are destined to be no more than enriched soil for these same plants here.¡± Miko was not convinced. She looked around the garden. ¡°And what does this one do?¡± she asked, pointing to a peculiar-looking plant with drooping red leaves. ¡°Ah, this one,¡± the crone patted Miko on the shoulder, ¡°This one is your punishment for today.¡± Old Mother shuffled closer and gestured for Miko to follow. After a few steps, an unmistakable odor hit her. ¡°What is this?!¡± she gasped, covering her nose. ¡°Rotweed,¡± Old Mother said nonchalantly. ¡°It rarely grows this far to the north. We should count our blessings.¡± She made another step forward. Miko didn¡¯t dare to follow. ¡°Sometimes I miss my sense of smell.¡± Old Mother bent down and took a loud whiff of the foul plant, completely unphased. ¡°Today, not so much.¡± ¡°Be a dear and root out all the rotweed here,¡± she said at the doorstep. The bear followed her, and Miko was left alone with the nasty smell.
The stench of rotweed followed Miko hours after she was done with her task. It clung to her like gnats in summer, only there was no way to swat it away. And now, to make matters worse, she glimpsed Lady Ohana walking to meet her. Her stepmother. Miko sighed, wary of a lecture soon to come. She¡¯d just gotten an earful from one person who called herself her mother. Did she have to suffer another? For a few moments, she thought about running the other way. It would be easy enough, darting behind the nearest house, disappearing into the shadow. ¡°Good evening, Miko,¡± she heard from far away. It was too late to run now. Miko had no other option but to bow and listen. ¡°Good evening, Ohana-a-tori,¡± Miko replied, her tone carefully neutral and formal as she straightened. Her hands, hidden in the folds of her robe, curled into fists. It wasn¡¯t that she hated her stepmother. In fact, she hated how she couldn¡¯t hate the woman. Miko would¡¯ve liked nothing more than for Lady Ohana to give her a nice excuse to dislike her. But there is nothing quite as infuriating as having to tolerate someone so annoyingly decent. Everything about Lady Ohana was calm and composed. A true image of every nameless wife in every hero¡¯s story. ¡°Are you finished with Old Mother¡¯s chores?¡± Miko didn¡¯t answer. Her miserable look should have told Lady Ohana more than Miko herself ever could. ¡°You have learned your lesson then, I pray?¡± No answer. ¡°Miko, you don¡¯t plan on running again, are you?¡± Still no answer. ¡°And what happens then? Are you content bleeding out in the forest?¡± Lady Ohana asked, with no more humor. ¡°If your father hadn¡¯t found you, what would have happened to you?¡± It was a question Miko tried not to ask herself. ¡°You were willing to throw away your brother¡¯s future and, worse, your own life for nothing?¡± There were no sharp edges in her words but they cut Miko all the same. What could she even respond with? She said nothing. ¡°You are the only daughter. Deny all you can, my lord husband does love you.¡± ¡°No doubt that¡¯s why he punishes me so,¡± Miko finally said. A weak response, but it was better than nothing. ¡°He had a different, harsher punishment in mind,¡± stepmother said. ¡°I talked him out of it.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Miko asked. Why are you pretending? she meant to say. You¡¯re not my mother. ¡°From now on, you will be my company at dance classes,¡± Lady Ohana ignored Miko¡¯s comment. ¡°It¡¯s past time you learned about proper manners.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not my mother.¡± This time, Miko did say it. With faint embarrassment, she realized she wanted to see her stepmother hurt. She saw something dark in Lady Ohana¡¯s face and for a moment wished to take it all back. But words are like birds¡ªanother Old Mother¡¯s classic saying¡ªonce loose, you cannot hope to catch them. ¡°No, I am not your mother,¡± Ohana agreed. ¡°But a true wife needs to know how to eat and dance and sing without embarrassing herself or her family.¡± For just a moment, it all seemed like a poor joke. True wife? Wife? Me? Marriage was a frequent threat around Miko, but she never expected it to actually happen to her. Maybe to some other Miko. Is this all I am to you, father? Just a useless cattle you can give away? ¡°And who is the lucky guy?¡± was all Miko could say with a bitter, insincere smile. ¡°Or are you throwing me into the arms of some old man?¡± You¡¯d like that, wouldn¡¯t you? she wanted to add. ¡°That, I left in your father¡¯s hand.¡± Ohana made a curt bow, as if to notify there was nothing to talk about anymore, and promptly left. Miko¡¯s shoulders sagged. She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to scream, to rage, to vent. To run away. Instead, she dutifully followed her stepmother back into Lord Takami¡¯s manor, like a good little daughter they all wanted her to be. THREE: Blood and Iron

ALAYNE

Though gifts of Copper and Silver He granted them, the people condemned Him to slow death. When He therefore was bound to the wheel and torn limb from limb, the crowd gathered to witness His passing. ¡°A pretender god! He cannot save Himself!¡± the crowd jeered as the children cast stones at Him and the women spat at His shattered limbs. Yet the Broken God did not curse them, nor did He turn His face away. And when three moons had passed, He came back whole in His wrath. Upon His return, He gave them the final gift, the gift of Iron. He put them all to the sword and let the parents follow their children to death, for His love was vast and His mercy endless. ¨C The Iron Gospel; Wheel of Divinity 4:12-17 Alayne was sipping sweet plum wine and listening to the screams of men outside. Three, she thought. An heir to the King Emperor is killed, and the secret police could only find three culprits. The Quwri men were being boiled alive. It would take some time for the screaming to cease, Alayne knew from experience. That could have been me. Alayne was getting rather hot herself, too. She wiped the beads of sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. ¡°Shall we resume?¡± she heard from the other side of the room. It was her brother. Cedric stood in a fully unbuttoned blue Iron League uniform, complete with an iron shoulder pad. They¡¯ve been sparring for the past hour or so, and the sweltering heat didn¡¯t help any. Alayne has seen other girls in the Royal Palace stealing glances at Cedric from time to time. Absurdly, this made Alayne feel proud. He is my twin, after all. It seemed they were fated to share everything in life, including compliments. That was par for the course. She and her brother stood out too much in this strange land: tall, pale, with blonde hair and green eyes. ¡°So?¡± Cedric asked, jumping lightly in place. Two crimson blades started forming in his hands. Alayne smiled and put her fists up. Blood painted her fists in scarlet. It bubbled, then hardened, then turned to steel. ¡°Another round,¡± Alayne agreed. She was now wearing huge dark-red steel gauntlets, capped with spiked ridges. Alayne watched Cedric with narrowed eyes, the familiar thrill of their training coursing through her veins. Outside, the cries of the captured conspirators rose and fell again. A perfect backdrop for a sparring session. The sweet taste of plum wine still lingered on her tongue. ¡°Tell me when you¡¯re ready,¡± Cedric said, lowering his hands and relaxing his muscles. Just a trick, Alayne knew. He wanted her to lower her guard by pretending he lowered his. And sure enough, in an instant, Cedric sprang forward, bringing his blades in a perfect arc. Alayne deflected the strike with a resounding CLANG. She felt the force vibrate through her arms. Has he gotten faster? Cedric pivoted, spinning low and bringing one blade toward her midsection. Alayne shifted her weight, bringing her gauntlet down just in time to block it. Bits of chipped metal flew and turned back to blood, splattering on the floor. The other blade came at her side, but she ducked, rolling past her brother and delivering a punch aimed at his back. He anticipated it¡ªof course¡ªtwisting away just enough to avoid the brunt but catching a glancing blow that sent him skidding across the room. ¡°Still too predictable,¡± she chided. Cedric chuckled, shrugging and shaking his head. ¡°It¡¯s as they say, the longer you fight¡ª¡± He surged forward suddenly. Another trick. This time, he feinted left but lunged right, catching Alayne off guard. One of his blades sliced a thin line across her arm before she could twist away. The cut stung but she sent the pain somewhere deep, where it was no longer felt. Pain is not to be feared. That was one of the tenets of the Broken God. Gritting her teeth, Alayne swept her arm back, forcing her brother to leap away. She narrowed her eyes and brought her gauntlets together, the spikes sparking as they clashed. With a deep focus, she pushed more of her life into the weapons, extending the gauntlets into razor-sharp claws. Cedric¡¯s eyes flickered but he attacked again, moving with a flurry. Alayne parried and countered with a series of her own strikes. CLANG CLANG CLANG Who knows you better than your own twin? They were countering each other¡¯s blows before they had the chance to land. The room was filled with metal echoes which nearly drowned the screams of the men outside. Then, she saw it¡ªa brief shift in Cedric¡¯s stance, a subtle tell that he was about to launch an overhead strike. She hopped back and sliced the air in front of her with her gauntlet, sending the spikes flying. One of the spikes shot through the fabric of Cedric¡¯s pants just above the ankle and hit the floor. Cedric tried to instinctively move his leg away, a moment too late, and realized he couldn¡¯t. The spike was stuck. ¡°I can¡¯t¡ª¡± Move, he was about to say, but Alayne gave him no time. She sidestepped and drove her gauntlet upward in a swift arc. The steel met Cedric¡¯s shoulder with a crunch, sending him staggering back. The spike tore through the leg of his pants. Alayne allowed herself a grin. She lowered her gauntlets as they softened back into liquid form, trickling down her arms. She stood over her brother, triumphant. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s call it a draw,¡± Cedric said, rubbing his sore shoulder. ¡°Oh? Is that what they call the score of four to one?¡± Alayne said, the smirk still on her face. ¡°Go to rust!¡± Cedric laughed, rising. ¡°Half of those four could have easily been mine. It was razor-thin.¡± He got a good look at his pants, now ruined. ¡°Great. I guess it was too hot for long pants.¡± He let out a miserable sigh. ¡°Oh, quit the theatrics. I¡¯ll treat you to something nice after.¡± ¡°You better treat me to some new pants,¡± he rolled up both legs of his uniform. It looked ridiculous but at least the legs were of equal length now. ¡°How bold of you to introduce new fashion to the Yattoshi,¡± Alayne laughed. Cedric showed her his tongue. ¡°They could use one.¡± He turned to leave. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m heading back home.¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Home. This wasn¡¯t a word Alayne liked to hear. Without even knowing it, Cedric managed to wipe the smile off her face. Even after eight years, this land was still foreign to her. She grew accustomed to the food, the people, the way their language twisted her tongue into knots, and even to some of the silly superstitions the folk here held. But she could never call this home. Back home, in Bironia, everything was orderly. Even suffering¡ªespecially suffering¡ªhad its purpose. And the worst part was how all of the memories of Bironia had dulled in Alayne¡¯s head, like washed-out colors. The bad things faded, but so did the good things. ¡°Don¡¯t forget, you¡¯re paying! Love you!¡± She didn¡¯t even notice how Cedric left the room. His golden razorback slipped through the door right behind him. The men kept on screaming outside. Alayne¡¯s fingers traced the small metal wheel hanging from her neck. A six-spoked breaking wheel, the symbol of the Broken God. If only Alayne from ten years ago could see me now! She would have laughed in disbelief. As a kid, Alayne wasn¡¯t much of a devotee of the Broken God cult. But in this strange land, she hung on to the wheel as the last remainder of her life before. Back in Bironia, they believed that the Broken God gave three gifts to humanity: the gift of copper (that is, knowledge of trade), the gift of silver (diplomacy), and the gift of iron. Warfare. Alayne knew little of the other two, but the gift of iron was strong in her. The Broken God has rewarded her well. He was a strong, generous god. It was under His guidance that Bironia grew to be one of the most powerful states in the world. Unlike the Yatto Empire, which couldn¡¯t even decide which deity to worship. Some of the Iron League officers started calling it the Land of Ten Thousand Gods. Squirrel gods and forest gods, gods carved of wood and chiseled into stone, gods who lived in empty teapots, and those who ruled the lakes. There were even moon-worshippers too, just like in the khanates of the Red Steppe, though at least Yatto practices seemed more advanced. No matter. These aren¡¯t true gods at all. The thought felt reassuring. She grew weary of listening to the same screams and left to take a walk along the Royal Palace¡¯s perimeter.
Alayne was not much of an actor but in the Royal Palace she had been playing too many roles to count. A guest of honor. A daughter of the Iron League general. An exile. A prisoner. A tool. They got to the little prince before I could. The thought made Alayne sick. Was it truly the Quwri who carried out the assassination? Was it some contingency plan by the Iron League? Did the council not trust Alayne enough to act out her role? But it was dangerous alone to think such thoughts. She had heard tales about the Yattoshi secret police and what it meant to attract their watchful eye. The men boiling outside would attest to that if they still could. Alayne wondered whether these men were guilty at all. And if they weren¡¯t, would the secret police even care? ¡°Telling the Thumb to search for culprits is like telling a pig to roll in the mud,¡± her brother had said when it all began. She did laugh at that, she remembered. It was dangerous to speak of one of the Five Fingers so freely¡ªespecially the Thumb, who was the head of the secret police¡ªbut when has Cedric ever been cautious? The boys all dream of swords, until their first taste of battle, her father would often say. She wondered whether it was something he had read once or come up with all on his own. Regardless, it sounded true to her. Cedric thought everything in this world was a joke. ¡°Alayne! Lady Alayne!¡± she suddenly heard behind her. ¡°Alayne-a-tori!¡± The last cry caught her attention. She turned and saw a large crowd of noble girls in almost identical clothes¡ªand, Alayne could have sworn, with almost identical names. ¡°I¡¯m so glad to see you!¡± one of the girls nearly jumped when Alayne stopped to talk to them. Most of the girls were around Alayne¡¯s age or a bit younger: fifteen, sixteen, or thereabouts. With satisfaction, Alayne noticed that the number of breaking wheels worn around their necks had grown since the last time. One god against ten thousand, and He is still winning. ¡°Will you join us for a tea ceremony?¡± some girl with thin lips asked her. ¡°I¡¯ll be there.¡± Alayne gave her the most sincere smile. ¡°You promise? You skipped the last two.¡± ¡°My blood is iron and my word is steel.¡± The words didn¡¯t mean much to the Yattoshi, but they were sacred back in Bironia. The girl nodded as if she could ever understand the Steel Oath. ¡°And your brother? Cedric-o-toki?¡± ¡°There¡¯s no need for such formality with him," Alayne smiled. "My brother is no great soldier.¡± Not yet, anyway. He was Alayne¡¯s twin, after all. He was destined for greatness. ¡°He hasn¡¯t joined us once. Have you told him he was invited?¡± the girl regarded Alayne suspiciously. ¡°I have,¡± Alayne lied. ¡°But today he had some¡­ clothing incident.¡± The image of her brother with rolled-up pants appeared in her mind, and Alayne almost guffawed. The girls bowed politely and let Alayne be on her way. Alayne didn¡¯t hate them. In truth, there was not one drop of genuine hatred in her. And were she to carry out her original task, instead of the Quwri men, she would have done it without any hate, either. ¡°Blood spilled in hatred is a waste,¡± this was one of the fundamental Ten Precepts of her faith. ¡°No victory without struggle.¡± That was another. But Alayne liked the other one better: ¡°Pain is not to be feared.¡± This was something that the Yatto Empire had yet to embrace. Fifteen years ago, it was the Iron League, armed with Ten Precepts, that had helped squash the Five General Rebellion and keep the King Emperor¡¯s ass seated. Alayne¡¯s father had stayed here ever since¡ªnot of his own accord, of course¡ªand Alayne and her brother remained by his side. But soon¡­ Soon there might be a way for them to return from their exile. Alayne just needed to play her role.
The small porcelain cup was far too delicate for Alayne¡¯s fingers. It was adorned with gold filigree. Back home, Bironian artisans would¡¯ve turned this kind of extravagance into a sword hilt or something useful. But here in the Yattoshi Empire, even the smallest things seemed to carry the weight of history. Alayne looked inside her cup and caught her reflection. Two dots were staring back at her with judgment. Her green Revalian eyes. The only gift that her mother had left her. She sipped her tea slowly, letting its subtle sweetness linger on her tongue. Around her, the girls prattled on, their silken sleeves fluttering as they gestured and giggled. The point of tea ceremonies wasn¡¯t the tea, she knew. In truth, you were expected to maybe drink a couple of cups and help someone else pour another. There weren¡¯t many snacks to speak of, either. Instead, the girls played the beloved game of all small children¡ªthey talked about grownup matters and pretended to know what they were discussing. One girl mentioned how the number of attacks by wild beasts has increased greatly: the Narwa and Larpa provinces supposedly bore the heaviest brunt. Alayne stopped herself from shaking her head in disapproval. Bironia hasn¡¯t had this problem for millennia. The Broken God defends us. The other girls joined in. It seemed that neither of Yatto¡¯s seven provinces lacked for terrible news. Alayne hasn¡¯t said much but she wasn¡¯t listening, either. She was less a guest here and more a novelty. At first, it had grated on her nerves, but now it was just another part she played. Her Yattoshi was improving too, though not fast enough for her liking. Occasionally she would say ¡°cat¡± when she meant to say ¡°food¡±, much to everyone¡¯s amusement. All the better. Let them think I¡¯m harmless. ¡°For the first time in a century, the pirate lords of Hiyu are setting aside their qualms and gathering to elect the King of Tides,¡± Foruka declared dramatically. She was a thin girl with sharp features and an even sharper voice that commanded attention. Other girls broke into terrified whispers, and Alayne couldn¡¯t help but laugh. Is everyone in these lands fond of silly titles? ¡°Did you say something?¡± one of the girls asked, blinking at her with wide, doll-like eyes. Alayne couldn¡¯t remember her name¡ªYuki? Yuna? They all blurred together after a while. ¡°I said,¡± Alayne replied, her voice smooth, ¡°that I¡¯ll start being afraid of pirates the moment they learn how to tame krakens.¡± Foruka narrowed her eyes, clearly unamused by the jab. ¡°You should take this more seriously. The King of Tides may use the new conflict with the Quwri to start a war.¡± ¡°War? With pirates?¡± Alayne arched a brow, setting her cup down gently. ¡°Don¡¯t they prefer raiding unguarded ports and arguing over who gets the bigger share of stolen rice?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what makes this so frightening,¡± Yuki¡ªno, Yumo! That¡¯s who it was!¡ªwhispered. ¡°If they¡¯re uniting, it means they¡¯re plotting something bigger.¡± ¡°Strictly speaking,¡± another girl interrupted, pushing her spectacles up her nose, ¡°there are more than just the pirate lords involved. There are also merchant alliances, smuggling networks in Dartu¡ª¡± ¡°Yes, yes,¡± Foruka cut her off with a wave of her hand. ¡°But the real power in Dartu lies with two factions: Squids and Sharks. One favors trading, the other warfare.¡± Alayne hid her amusement behind her cup. I wonder which is which, she thought. These girls talked about pirates as if they were some grand political entity rather than ragged men with knives in their teeth. It all sounded eerily familiar. The Pentarchy of Revalia¡ªthe eternal nemesis of her homeland, Bironia¡ªoperated in much the same way. They, too, had their factions, their endless squabbles disguised as governance. But here, at the edge of the world, none of these conflicts sounded real. Alayne wondered if anyone here even knew about any of that: Bironia, Revalia, the Great Trade Alliance, and the Free Cities of Silla. But these Yattoshi were all too wrapped up in their own world to see beyond its borders. ¡°Have you ever seen a pirate, Lady Alayne?¡± Foruka asked suddenly. Alayne tilted her head, meeting the girl¡¯s gaze evenly. ¡°I¡¯ve seen my share of seafaring rogues. They¡¯re usually less interested in electing kings and more interested in staying drunk.¡± Foruka¡¯s lips pursed into a thin line, and Alayne allowed herself a small victory. ¡°You¡¯re speaking boldly, my lady,¡± a soft voice chimed in. All heads turned to the speaker¡ªit was Princess Hana. For the past few days, she had been wearing black-and-red robes, in mourning for her assassinated brother. ¡°I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s a bad habit of mine, Your Highness,¡± Alayne replied, bowing her head slightly. ¡°One I¡¯ve yet to¡­¡± she was looking for a word, ¡°Uh, unlearn.¡± The princess smiled faintly. ¡°A bit of boldness is refreshing. It¡¯s easy to grow complacent when surrounded by the same voices every day.¡± She gestured at the girls sitting in the circle. ¡°Isn¡¯t that the truth,¡± Alayne muttered. Only she said ¡°elephant¡± instead of ¡°truth¡±, earning a ripple of laughter from the group. Even the princess giggled. That one is made for laughter, not mourning. Alayne hadn¡¯t had the heart to tell Princess Hana that she should get used to wearing black and red. More of her royal brothers might soon follow the late Prince Eomori. The conversation shifted back to pirates, treaties, and rumors of unrest in this or that province. ¡°And what do you think, Lady Alayne?¡± Foruka asked after someone mentioned¡­ What was it? Raiders? Mountain clans? Alayne wasn¡¯t listening. Why would she? They were deep in the mazes of the Royal Palace, behind ten guards and as many doors, but still she imagined she could hear them¡ªthe screams of men boiled alive. She wondered what it was like, to feel your skin slough off your face, your hair burn away in wisps, and your bones soften into paste. Alayne supposed she might find that out soon enough. And if she did, what would it matter? What had her life been worth, except as a tool for others, wielded and discarded at their leisure? ¡°Pain is not to be feared.¡± FOUR: Oh Brother

MIKO

Of blood magic, much has been written but much more is to be written still. You, who have opened this book for the first time, remember the fundamentals. Five paths emerge like rivers from a single source: Forging, which turns blood into weapons, Shifting, which changes blood into elements, Enhancing, which improves one¡¯s blood flow, Imprinting, which enchants objects with one¡¯s blood, Binding, which lets one move and manipulate blood. To know one¡¯s path is to sow the seeds, but to master it is to reap sweet fruits. ¨C Scrolls of the Eastern Flame (original lost; parts are collected in the Infinite Compendium) Lord Takami was surrounded by enemies, one sword against a dozen. They slowly approached him, blades pointing at his heart. ¡°Mimi, is father going to survive?¡± Sai asked, tugging Miko at her sleeve. He said it with such wide-eyed innocence that Miko couldn¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°Wait and see for yourself.¡± She had seen this performance at least ten times in her not-so-long life. In all honesty, she should have been bored to tears. But there was something about this play that spoke directly to her. And the reactions of her half-brother Sai only added to the entertainment. On the stage, the puppet portraying Lord Takami stood tall in his bamboo armor. The painted expression on his face hasn¡¯t changed throughout the entire act¡ªnot that it was prone to change in real life¡ªand was fierce with determination. The allies around him have been falling one by one: Inji the Darkblade, the Twin Wolves Oro and Moro, the jolly drunkard Kondo. It was considered a mark of a true warrior to improvise a short poem right before you die, so a good portion of the play was filled with solemn recitals. Some puppets were singing about their family, some about duty and honor, some made vows to avenge their defeat in the next life. When Miko tried to imagine her last moments, she didn¡¯t know what her poem would be about, but she never doubted it would be something beautiful. So long as it¡¯s not Old Mother who is singing it, I should be fine. At last, the action continued. It was the same tale told over and over¡ªhow her father had led the charge in a campaign for the King Emperor, and how, at the cost of his leg, he had saved the Emperor¡¯s life. ¡°Look, look! They¡¯re going to kill him!¡± Sai yelled. ¡°S-sit down, S-Sai,¡± Teru whispered. He caught a few annoyed glances from the audience around them. Normally Teru was as talkative as Sai, despite his stuttering, but being an older brother granted him the wisdom of recognizing at least some boundaries. On stage, Takami¡¯s puppet was being overtaken. The audience gasped, but then Lord Takami rallied with all his might and fought them off, swinging his wooden sword in wide arcs. One of his legs was wounded beyond repair, but he put down his sword in satisfaction. Behind him, another puppet appeared. It was clad all in yellow, with a tall hat and strings of beads around his neck. The King Emperor. "My loyal friend!¡± The King Emperor puppet sang, its tiny head bowed low. ¡°Your love for me only brought you pain!" A single droplet of water, perfectly timed, slid down the puppet''s polished cheek. The puppet gently brushed it away, a movement so delicate it almost felt human. "A small price to pay for the life of my liege," the puppet of Lord Takami sang in response. "A life without honor is like the sky without the sun." The crowd erupted in cheers. Sai hooted and stomped his feet. No doubt father would¡¯ve stopped him from causing a ruckus, but Lord Takami wasn¡¯t here. He misliked puppet theaters, just like he misliked most other things in this world. ¡°I can¡¯t believe our father was the King Emperor¡¯s friend!¡± Sai kept dancing around Miko and Teru after the show was over. He was holding a yellow-and-green paper fan, and Miko couldn¡¯t tell which rotated faster¡ªthe fan or her half-brother. ¡°D-don¡¯t believe everything you hear,¡± said Teru. Of late, he started wearing his hair in a topknot, either consciously or subconsciously imitating their lord father. At least his personality was far removed from Lord Takami. Teru was pliable, playful and loyal. If he had any disagreements with Miko, they were born out of the typical brother-and-sister competitiveness and not malice. Like Miko, Teru was old enough to have his own beast. Unlike Miko, Teru had one. It was a young banewolf¡ªnaturally¡ªand it has been following them everywhere ever since Teru¡¯s initiation a few moons ago. Poor thing had to suffer through hours of puppet performance and was now looking rather miserable. ¡°I take it, you liked the show?¡± Miko asked. She was fond of the story, unlikely as she was to admit it. ¡°I liked all the sword fights!¡± Sai said and made a few swipes with his paper fan. ¡°Are they really showing it every year?¡± ¡°Yes. At every Sun and Moon f-festival,¡± Teru said. ¡°Then¡­ we can see it together next year too,¡± Sai said. There was a subtle, almost imperceptible emphasis on next year. He danced around the subject of Miko¡¯s failed escape almost as swiftly as he was dancing around them now. The quiet stretched between them. Next year. Next year, Teru would probably be away to take the soultamer exam. And Sai, like as not, would follow him in a few short years. But Miko? Miko would still be here. ¡°I¡¯m g-glad you¡¯re not g-g-gone,¡± Teru finally broke the silence. Miko looked at him. It was so unlike Teru to be this sincere. But as always, he tried to turn everything into a joke. ¡°Who else would d-do my homework? I¡¯m sure the t-teachers would start getting very suspicious when I¡¯m suddenly unable to c-calculate the area of a triangle.¡± He laughed but even while he was wearing a wide grin, the smile never touched his eyes. "It¡¯s not exactly like I had the say in the matter," Miko replied. She hated how bitter she sounded. She didn¡¯t want to talk about it any longer and, thankfully, they didn¡¯t.
¡°I¡¯ll train twice as hard¡±. That had been Miko¡¯s motto for as long as she remembered how to read. When Teru and Sai learned how to do cartwheels and walk on hands, Miko realized that her sense of balance and coordination wasn¡¯t on par with her half-brothers. She lacked the talent and the physicality, but you could always make up for it with sheer determination. At least, that¡¯s what Miko believed. It took her several weeks but ultimately she did learn how to walk on hands. By then, both Teru and Sai grew bored of annoying Lord Takami with their circus performance, but Miko was beyond ecstatic.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. She had managed to do it! This is no different, Miko thought. I¡¯ll train twice as hard, that¡¯s it. She was standing in a remote corner of the village, hidden from inquiring glances. So long as she was quiet, she wouldn¡¯t be disturbed. Miko didn¡¯t dare to enter the forest, at least for the time being. Lord Takami¡¯s ire was in endless supply, and another act of disobedience would be most unwise. She closed her eyes, letting herself fall into a calm she¡¯d learned to summon even on the hardest days. Today would be one of those. It had to be. Without a beast bonded to her, any manipulation of the elements was almost impossible. ¡°A fool¡¯s errand¡±, was how her lord father put it. Maybe I am a fool. A spark of hope remained that if she could master just a fragment of what true soultamers could do, her father would see her in a different light. It was a stupidly optimistic thought, but that¡¯s all she had to cling to. I¡¯ll start with something easy. She shifted into a stance meant to summon water. She cupped her hands in front of her, trying to imagine the weight and coolness of water pooling in her palms. She thought of the river that flowed near the village, the quiet strength of it, the way it could carry logs downstream as if they were nothing. She tried to summon that image, to bring that feeling into her hands. She tried to believe, even while a nagging part deep inside her mind didn¡¯t. For a moment, Miko felt the faintest dampness against her skin. She opened her eyes, only to see a few beads of moisture on her palms¡ªnot even enough to call it a trickle. Maybe in a few months of training, there will be enough water to wash my hands before supper. Miko took a deep breath, feeling the sharp, restless pulse in her veins. She curled her fingers, focusing on the energy within. Something different, then. Blood forging was not the easiest of the magic types. But all the heroes she¡¯d read about were proficient with it. They could summon crimson swords, maces, clubs, even whips. The only thing they were bound with was their imagination. And Miko had plenty of imagination. She tried to summon the exact shape of the blade in her mind: the sharp, precise edge glinting in the light, the hilt shaped to fit seamlessly into her grip. Every detail needed to be right. An iron blade. It was the easiest to turn blood into iron. I can do this, she thought, believing and not believing at the same time. She had failed last time, and a dozen times before that, but maybe¡­ Miko¡¯s fingers twitched, the blood slowly pooling under her skin. The pulse in her temples matched the rapid beat of her heart as the blood began to coalesce. ¡°Come on,¡± Miko whispered aloud. She imagined how it would feel, the weight of the blade as it took shape in her hand, warm and pulsating with energy. She felt her pulse in her fingertips, the shape of the weapon beginning to solidify. And then, the pressure surged with a terrifying sound: SHTREEEECK! There was a blinding flash, and someone screamed. It wasn¡¯t until the light in her eyes receded that Miko realized she was the one screaming. The pain, it was unbearable. The half-formed blade detonated in her hand, sending a shockwave of pain up her arm. Jagged crimson shards were embedded in her skin. Miko fell to one knee, clutching at the wound that now trickled a dark, sluggish stream down her forearm. Each shard throbbed in time with her own racing heartbeat. A fresh wave of pain made her gasp, and black spots crept at the edge of her vision. Great, just great, she thought, biting down on another scream. It took her a great deal of effort to stop panicking and then turn the shards back into liquid. The bleeding slowed, the wound began to close, but at a steep price. Her limbs grew heavy. A bleeder¡¯s disease left Miko anemic each time she tried to practice her magic. Every moment Miko sustained the effort was like holding her breath underwater. When she tasted something salty on her lips, she feared she was crying again. But it was beads of sweat. ¡°Pathetic. This is pathetic,¡± she muttered under her breath. I am pathetic. Without a beast, her control of the magic was fragile at best. But how would she ever earn one without proving her worth first? Teru had one. That stupid Genki had one. Gods, even Old Mother had one! Resentful thoughts galloped through her mind. Miko tried not to think, but it was hard not to. Thinking and reading were the only true talents she had. I¡¯ll rest a bit and start again. ¡°I¡¯ll train twice as hard¡± was a good-sounding motto, but so far it had brought her nothing but pain. Miko was about to rise when she heard a devastatingly familiar sound. Laughter. It was low and mocking. She had developed a good ear for it, and recognized the notes of mockery. It¡¯s him. Again. Genki was the first to appear, his thin arms crossed and a smug grin plastered across his face. Of late, he was often wearing a slanted smile as though he knew some secret joke only he could understand. Behind him, two other boys followed, Renko and Gomah, both looking just as eager to cause trouble. Miko felt her stomach twist. Instinctively, she jumped to her feet to confront the boys. They must have found the sight funny. Miko was already the shortest among all of the youth her age, but Genki was the tallest of the bunch. He had gone through an impressive growth spurt last year, one that his body had trouble keeping up with, so he was also gaunt as a skeleton. To complete the ghastly picture, his cheeks were hollow and his eyes seated deep, like two dark gems in a skull idol. He was proudly showing his family crest: rows of half-circles. Snake scales. Worst yet, he was already wearing a green sash. He was one rank above most other kids, who wore yellow ones, and two whole ranks above Miko. She was wearing white, in stark contrast to her father¡¯s black. An uninitiated. An eternal novice. She tried to tell her it meant nothing. Genki was a son of a soultaming teacher, wasn¡¯t he? This green sash of his was a sign of privilege, not mastery. But she knew that was only her jealousy speaking. ¡°Ran out of first-years to bully?¡± Miko said dryly. Her throat was raw from her exercise. Genki ignored her comment. ¡°Reading does you no good, Lady Miko. You look like a spotted bear with those bags under your eyes.¡± Genki laughed, and all the boys followed his cue. ¡°What were you doing here? This is our place.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not your place. I¡¯m training here.¡± Why did she even need to explain herself to him? He looked at her bloodied hand and she immediately hid it in her robe, embarrassed. ¡°Ha! I¡¯d say you should start training with a broom, but maybe that¡¯s too dangerous for you, too.¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± Miko said through her teeth. It was supposed to sound threatening, but another gale of laughter was all she got in return. ¡°Or what?¡± Miko walked up to Genki. Thin and tall, he looked like a snake that learned to stand upright. No, not a snake. A worm. ¡°Uh-oh, boys, I think I¡¯m in deep trouble now,¡± Genki winked at his friends. He put his hands behind his back, inviting Miko to try and slap him. She did. Her hand was a moment away from slapping that ridiculous grin off of Genki¡¯s equally ridiculous face when something stopped her. It felt like her arm was bound in chains. When she looked, she saw a grass viper coiled around her arm. It must¡¯ve snuck behind me. ¡°Ha! Come on, hit me,¡± Genki dared with a smile. ¡°I¡¯m right here.¡± Miko clenched her teeth, trying to wrench her arm free, but the grass viper coiled tighter, its cool scales digging into her skin. Genki¡¯s grin only widened as he watched her struggle. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Lady Miko. This is for your own good,¡± his voice was dripping with mockery. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want you to hurt yourself trying to hit me.¡± He gave her a little bow, hands still behind his back. Miko¡¯s face flushed with anger. She tried to yank her arm back, twisting her body, but the snake was impossibly strong. ¡°Oh, where are my manners? That¡¯s no way to treat a little girl.¡± With a small flick of his hand, Genki commanded the viper to release her. Miko stumbled back, regaining her balance just as her arm fell free. She looked up, meeting his eyes with a fierce glare. The rage boiled over. She lunged forward, her fist aimed squarely at that smug face of his. She could feel the weight of her strike, could almost hear the impact as it traveled from her shoulder to her knuckles¡ªbut then Genki shifted, deftly dodging her blow. His viper darted around her again, looping around her leg and throwing her off-balance. She stumbled, barely catching herself before falling. But Miko wasn¡¯t done. With one free leg, she swept a kick at his legs, with all of her force behind it. Her heel connected solidly, and for one glorious moment, she watched as Genki¡¯s composure broke, his leg buckling, sending him to his knee. Her satisfaction was short-lived. In a flash, Genki stood and retaliated, shoving her backward with enough force to knock her to the ground. She landed hard, the impact jarring her bones, and she could taste the blood in her mouth. She rolled over from pain. Genki crouched over Miko, his face close to hers, then put his hand on the back of her neck and pressed. ¡°You¡¯ll have to do better than that,¡± he said plainly, his voice devoid of its usual humor. She spat her blood at Genki but he easily dodged it. With one final, dismissive look, he stepped back and walked away. ¡°My sisters pack a harder punch,¡± he said to the crowd of boys. The rest of the gang turned to look at her before leaving. She expected to see laughter, or anger, or dismissal. She would have even settled for disgust. Instead, she saw pity in their eyes. Damn it all! Miko lay there, with a roaring pulse in her ears. The boys looked at her with pity. And why not? She was a pitiful little thing. Miko punched the ground. Damn Genki! She punched again. There was a wet red mark she laid her fist. Damn father! Damn this village! She kept punching until her knuckles were raw. And even then, she kept going. I will never be humiliated again! I won¡¯t allow it! But she knew she would. She always allowed it. Every time. FIVE: Again

MIKO

Since the Century of Woe, the Yatto Empire has instituted a strict system to regulate and rank its soultamers. All soultamers, whether in training or on active duty, are required to wear a colored sash that signifies their mastery. White: Unranked initiates. Yellow: Novices with basic abilities (partial transformation, basic elemental controls). Green: Practitioners who have mastered the fundamentals. From this rank onwards, soultamers can take a qualifying exam. Blue: Proficiency in combat and advanced blood magic. Often assigned leadership roles in squads or apprenticeships under higher ranks. Purple: Experts capable of wielding complex blood magic and commanding multiple units in battle. Brown: Veterans who often serve as advisors or strategists. May qualify for a position in Royal Guards (excluding Gold Swords). Black: Black sash wearers are legends in their own right, often serving directly under the Emperor. Most regard these as the pinnacle of soultaming, while some, like Master Otomi, claim this is barely the first step of the journey. ¨C Account of the Century of Woe (attributed to Master Godo) The Takami family wasn¡¯t part of the old blood, but from a commoner¡¯s perspective, that was the difference between the moon and the stars. Either way, they were out of reach. Lord Takami¡¯s manor wasn¡¯t the grandest in the village. It didn¡¯t boast gilded halls or sprawling gardens, but its size and quiet opulence spoke to the subtle power the family once wielded. The corridors twisted and turned like a maze, and even Miko sometimes found herself second-guessing which door led to where. She had lived here her entire life, yet it never truly felt like hers. The dining hall, as always, was formal and subdued. The long lacquered table was lined with dishes of steamed rice, pickled vegetables, and braised meats. The room was quiet save for the clink of porcelain against silver and the soft crackling of embers in the hearth. Lord Takami sat at the head of the table. His sharp features were thrown into stark relief by the flickering candlelight. Opposite him was Lady Ohana, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her expression unreadable as ever. Miko wasn¡¯t eating. She couldn¡¯t summon the will to force down even a single bite. Instead, her attention drifted to her father and stepmother, who were exchanging words in hushed tones. ¡°Troubling news from the Royal City,¡± Lord Takami said softly. Miko¡¯s ears perked up. She tried to lean in without making it obvious, but their discussion was too quiet. She tried to read her father¡¯s lip but all she could make out was ¡°Quwri¡­ the prince?¡± The Quwri prince? Miko¡¯s brow furrowed. She strained to catch more, but their voices dropped even lower, and she was left puzzling over fragments that made no sense. To Miko¡¯s right, her two half-brothers, Sai and Temu, toyed with their food. Sai, the younger one, hummed quietly to himself, while Temu seemed lost in his thoughts, chewing slower than usual. ¡°We came across another pack of corrupted beasts.¡± This time, Lord Takami announced it to everyone, his deep voice filling the room as he sliced into his meal. ¡°They keep growing bolder.¡± Sai made an unintelligible sound. Other than that, nobody said anything. When Lord Takami was talking, everyone was expected to keep quiet. ¡°Our last expedition saw five of them,¡± Lord Takami continued. ¡°Embermanes. Would you believe it?¡± He scoffed. ¡°Lord Mayami and I dispatched three of them. Not with ease, mind you. Ayani was supposed to kill the rest, but what can you expect from a jumpstart little boy like him? He has the heart of a Southerner.¡± Miko¡¯s spoon hovered over her bowl. Her hands were still red from punching the ground a few hours ago but at least the wounds have healed up. Although exhausted, she listened carefully, not even daring to raise her eyes from her plate. Her half-brothers leaned in, enraptured. ¡°I tried to tell them that building a coal plant this close to the forest was foolish,¡± Lord Takami was practically talking to himself. ¡°But who ever listens to Lord Takami?¡± Another coal plant? Miko almost asked. The rate at which these popped up around the Narwa province could put mushrooms to shame. Even she could tell that this intrusion into the forest would provoke beasts to retaliate. But despite all his posturing, her lord father should have been thankful. After all, it was his job as a soultamer to keep the beasts at bay. ¡°In any case, one of the embermanes is still unaccounted for.¡± Lord Takami slowly dabbed at his mouth with a cloth napkin. ¡°Until we catch it, the forests are a forbidden area.¡± He briefly eyed Miko. She decided not to show any reaction to this news. I am a good-natured daughter, father. Just like you always wanted, remember? Her stepmother glanced over at her. ¡°Do you not enjoy your meal, Miko?¡± she asked gently. Miko forced herself to nod, even as her appetite faded. ¡°But enough of this. I grow bored of these stories,¡± Lord Takami said as if his stories were as intricate as that puppet show they had watched.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. He put down his chopsticks and set his gaze on Teru, a look that could carve stone. ¡°Your teacher has been showering you with praise.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Teru said and stole a glance at Miko. The teacher¡¯s praise was all thanks to her. Stop it or father will notice! Miko wanted to scream at him. ¡°Then tell me, Teru,¡± Lord Takami continued, ¡°How many threat levels there are?¡± Teru loudly inhaled and stiffened in his seat. The color seemed to drain from his face as he struggled to summon the right words. This is child¡¯s play, Miko thought. She should have been the one to answer! She was the one who had spent hours poring over the scrolls. It wasn¡¯t fair. She felt the urge to speak rise in her throat but quickly swallowed it down. I shouldn¡¯t embarrass Teru. Instead, she pressed her fingertips against her thigh so that only Teru would notice. Her brother¡¯s gaze drifted down. ¡°F-five,¡± he stammered. ¡°Even I knew that!¡± Sai said. That was a lie. ¡°Correct,¡± Lord Takami replied, without a hint of warmth. His eyes never left Teru¡¯s face. ¡°And how would you recognize a corrupted beast?¡± Come on, you should at least know this much! Miko thought. There was no way to share the right answer with her brother. He was on his own now. She knew the answer, of course. But of what use was her knowledge if she would never have the chance to put it into practice? Her fingers were still resting on her leg as if she¡¯d never moved them. ¡°A c-corrupted beast,¡± Teru began with a strained voice. He tried to remember what the schoolbooks said. ¡°In some c-cases, its aura becomes, uh, visible.¡± Lord Takami regarded him with a look of measured approval, nodding slowly. He waited for more. When Teru failed to come up with anything, Lord Takami exhaled loudly through his nostrils. ¡°I expect better of my blood. Genki would have answered this with ease.¡± The mention of Genki¡¯s name made Miko feel the blood in her mouth again. Teru hid his eyes in a cup. ¡°Which reminds me,¡± Lord Takami announced suddenly. ¡°There¡¯s something I need to discuss with Genki¡¯s father.¡± Miko groaned inaudibly. She wanted to ask something but quickly stopped herself. But¡­ what was this look on her father¡¯s face? Miko glanced at Lady Ohana, whose calm, unreadable expression only made the suspicion worse. "I left the matter of deciding your husband in your father¡¯s hands," her stepmother had said not so long ago. At the time, the words had seemed distant, irrelevant. Now they rang like a gong in her ears. No. This cannot be. Not him. Her stomach churned violently, and she fought to keep her face neutral, even as panic clawed at her throat. Silly girl, your mind is playing tricks on you again, she thought, desperate to cling to some shred of disbelief. But when her eyes met Lady Ohana¡¯s again, there was no mistaking the truth. Her stepmother knew. She had always known. ¡°Pray excuse me,¡± Miko said abruptly, bowing low before walking away from the table. She didn¡¯t wait for anyone to acknowledge her. The air in the room was suffocating. Out in the hallway, the walls seemed to close in, the corridors too narrow, the house too stifling. She was afraid she would collapse before reaching her room. I can¡¯t remain here. Not a single day more.
She was going to run away. Again. The chances were, Lord Takami would catch her. Again. But Miko has gone beyond caring for consequences. Her heart was pounding. This was it¡ªshe was leaving. No more suffocating rules. No more expectations she could never meet. And no marriage. Not ever! Her room was dark, save for the faint glow of the moon slipping through the wooden slats of the window. Miko moved carefully, silently, her fingers trembling as they hovered over the few possessions she had laid out on her mat. The old floorboards creaked traitorously beneath her feet. From time to time, she would pause, hold her breath, and listen for any sign of movement in the house. But there was only wind outside. Her hand brushed over a faded silk pouch. Inside were her writing tools: an inkstone, a brush, and a small pot of ink she had ground herself. She couldn¡¯t leave without them. The thought of abandoning the scraps of herself she¡¯d poured onto scrolls was unbearable. She tucked the pouch into her satchel. Next, she turned to her father¡¯s scrolls. One detailed the principles of blood forging, and another spoke of the southern provinces, their beasts, and their strange customs. She hadn¡¯t read them all yet, but knowledge was power, wasn¡¯t it? Lord Takami always said that. But thinking of her father only made Miko angrier. Who cares what my father says? She rolled the scrolls carefully and secured them with twine. She shoved everything into the satchel, the bag now bulging with mismatched items. That should have been it but for some reason, Miko stayed in her room and looked over everything a few times. Why am I hesitating now? she thought bitterly. She should feel free, shouldn¡¯t she? Her eyes flicked to the door. Her stomach churned. Why does this feel so much harder than it should? Her father would be furious, of course. Perhaps that was part of the appeal. But what about¡­ Miko shook her head. No. Stop thinking about it. Just go. She slung the bag over her shoulder. The weight of it seemed heavier than it should be. Adjusting the strap, she opened the door, stepping into the chill air. The moon lit the path ahead, and for a brief moment, she felt her resolve harden. She had to do this. Even if it killed her, she had to¡­ ¡°Mimi?¡± The small, trembling voice came from behind her, barely audible over the howl of the wind. Miko froze. Her bag hung heavy over her shoulder. She turned slowly, already knowing who this voice belonged to. Sai stood there, shivering in his oversized night robe, his dark hair messy. ¡°Yes?¡± Miko whispered, her throat dry and scratchy. ¡°Are you going to run away again?¡± Sai¡¯s voice cracked, and he wrapped his arms around himself. Miko opened her mouth to lie, to reassure him, but the words stuck. Her lips curled up to say ¡°No,¡± but no sound came out. She looked away. ¡°Please don¡¯t go,¡± Sai said, his lips trembling. Tears welled up in his wide eyes, and his voice grew frantic. ¡°You can have my banewolf! He¡¯s only a pup, but you can have him. I don¡¯t want him. I, I¡­¡± His words dissolved into sobs, and he stumbled forward, clutching at her robe. ¡°Don¡¯t goooah,¡± he wailed, burying his face into her side. His small hands clung desperately to her. Miko instinctively dropped her bag and knelt, wrapping her arms around his shaking frame. His sobs were breathless, ragged, and raw, his shoulders jerking with each gasp for air. ¡°Pwease dond gho,¡± he begged between hiccuping cries, his voice muffled against her chest. She wanted to tell him something reassuring, but nothing came to mind. Her heart twisted painfully. Miko had rehearsed this moment in her mind so many times, imagined slipping away unnoticed, free of the constraints of her father¡¯s plans and expectations. But none of her rehearsals prepared her for Sai. For the raw ache of seeing her little brother like this, clinging to her as though his world would crumble without her. ¡°It¡¯s all right. Everything is going to be all right,¡± she finally managed. She wasn¡¯t sure who she was saying this to.
It was well after the hour of the Ox but Miko wasn¡¯t sleeping. It wasn¡¯t that she couldn¡¯t sleep, rather she didn¡¯t want to. She was afraid of the kinds of dreams she was about to see. Lately, it¡¯s been the same dream for her: she goes through the Laughing Forest again and gets ambushed by ice hounds. Only this time, all of the hounds have her father¡¯s face. Miko tried to take her mind off of her troubles by reading, but the lines kept blurring together. She¡¯d complete a passage, only to realize that she didn¡¯t remember what it talked about. When she tried to read it again, the same thing would happen. All she could think about, all she could picture, was her marriage. She rubbed her eyes and unrolled a different scroll. There was a faded illustration of some beast. She recognized it. A wild embermane was staring at her.
EMBERMANE
Threat level: ¡ï¡ï¡ï (three stars)
¡°One of the embermanes is still unaccounted for,¡± was it? She bounced the words of Lord Takami inside her head, just to be sure. Yes, that¡¯s what he said. She knew what she was going to think before she did. A crazed smile crept up her face. I¡¯ll catch it, she thought. The monster that not even you could catch, Takami-o-toki. Your weak little daughter will bring the embermane down for you. Her father wouldn¡¯t be able to dismiss her, then. He would have no choice but to acknowledge her. Catching a beast without any magic. Wouldn''t that be the stuff of legends? Miko didn¡¯t know whether her argument made sense or not. Maybe she should¡¯ve gone to bed, after all. But it was too late now. Once she had an idea, she didn¡¯t belong to herself. Miko tried to choke down laughter, but there was no stopping. She laughed so loud, she was afraid she¡¯d wake up the entire village. There were tears in her eyes, turning the world into a blur, and still she laughed. For a moment, she was afraid she was going insane. Perhaps she was. SIX: Truth and Untruth

ALAYNE

And the Broken God spake to His children: ¡°I gave you the wheel, that you may move; I gave you the blade, that you may cut; I gave you the chain, that you may bind. You have all you need to rule the world. Even so, you falter to rule even over yourselves.¡± ¨C The Iron Gospel, Wheel of Dominion 2:13-18 All men are equal in death. Alayne traced the edge of her breaking wheel necklace as she recited ancient truths. The candle was burning dimly, and its scent reminded Alayne of the burning parchment she once held in her fingers. The night was heavy with the kind of stillness that comes just before a storm. Alayne¡¯s eyes were resting on the shadowed branches outside her window. She¡¯d been waiting for a long time. But then again, her whole life was a series of waiting. Waiting to go home. Waiting to be given a mission. Waiting to be admitted to the First Circle. Waiting to see the truth. Before returning to the Chambers Above, the Broken God whispered certain things to His disciples. Secrets that would shape the world He left behind. These whispers became the foundation of His faith: ten sacred truths and untruths. The truths were the pillars of the faithful, but the untruths were just as vital, for they tested their resolve to discern, to question, and to endure uncertainty. The paradox of belief. The first truth was universal, shared with all who entered the faith: ¡°All men are equal in death.¡± This was the cornerstone. A cold and leveling declaration that in the end, all wealth, power, and ambition would be stripped away. Even kings were but bones and ash before the Broken God. Or, indeed, Yattoshi princes. But beyond the first truth, knowledge was tightly guarded. Each time a disciple progressed in rank, they were gifted another sacred phrase: one truth and one untruth, written on a slip of parchment and burned into memory by fire. For each promotion within the faith, the faithful would learn one more pair of statements. But only the highest ranks¡ªthe Circle of the Most Faithful¡ªknew all ten. Alayne still remembered the first slip of paper she received when she entered the First Inner Circle, the inked letters black against the pale parchment:
TRUTH AND UNTRUTH
The wheel binds all things in eternal motion. To halt is to decay. The only path to freedom is to break the wheel.
The words burned when she set the parchment aflame. Yet the fire imprinted the text on her mind more vividly than ink ever could. Which was the truth? Which was the untruth? It didn¡¯t matter. Or perhaps that was the point. The distinction itself might be the lie. To be faithful is to constantly question your faith. Alayne had risen to the second rank of the Circle, but beyond her own truths and untruths, the rest of the holy creed was forbidden. Her father held sacred knowledge of the Third Circle. In time, he might progress to the Fourth Circle. If he lives long enough, maybe even the Fifth. Not that it would do any good to Alayne. She would remain as clueless of the higher truths as she was right now. If her father ever learned them, he would never share them, not even with his progeny. The punishment for revealing any higher truths was death. There were times Alayne tried to half-heartedly deduce what that truth was from the way her father comported himself. But nothing in his behavior had changed. Alayne wondered whether she would stay the same when her initiation came. She¡¯d never held a secret from her brother. Well, except for one. But surely even he would understand? A flutter of wings outside. Finally. Moments later, Alayne saw it¡ªa dark shape perched on the windowsill, outlined against the moonlight. A crow, feathers as black as ink and eyes that glinted red, sat motionless, watching her. Alayne moved with deliberate calm, opening the window just enough for the bird to hop inside. It landed heavily on her desk. ¡°Oh, mother,¡± Alayne murmured softly, closing the window behind her as she made her way to the desk. ¡°I was wondering when I might hear from you.¡± She reached out and gently stroked the crow¡¯s head, using her finger to brush against the faintly glowing blood sigils etched onto the feathers. Anyone overhearing might think she was merely receiving a letter from her family.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Have you practiced your Runespeak, dear?¡± The crow¡¯s voice was a nail on glass. Alayne nodded. ¡°To what do I owe the Council my pleasure?¡± she switched to Runespeak. She wasn¡¯t quite proficient at it, but it became a little bit easier each time. ¡°Unfortunate developments,¡± the voice spoke through the crow. ¡°The heir¡¯s death was expected, yet untimely.¡± Alayne¡¯s fingers tensed against the desk, her eyes narrowing. ¡°So¡­ you had no hand in this, then?¡± So they do trust in me. A soft caw escaped the crow, but the voice resumed, calm and commanding. ¡°None but ours were given this task, yet another knife found its mark. We know not the hand, but it matters little. The heir¡¯s death does not deter us. Our path grows only clearer.¡± Alayne took a breath, her eyes flickering to the door to ensure it remained shut. "You¡¯re saying the plans¡­ have accelerated?¡± ¡°A succession crisis would be most welcome. We had information that the heir planned to ally himself with¡­ a certain state.¡± Alayne nodded lightly. Revalia. Runespeak or not, it wasn¡¯t sensible to mention her mother''s homeland out loud. ¡°He harbored sympathies with them, and so do others. The vacuum left in the wake of the heir¡¯s demise must be filled swiftly. You are to proceed with our next task, Alayne. We have honed you for this.¡± ¡°And my next target is..?¡± The crow nodded. ¡°You will be instructed in time. Soon you will be invited to accompany the King Emperor on his trip to the north." North? What''s there? Alayne wanted to ask but didn''t. There will be time for questions later. "You must move carefully. If the heir¡¯s death was unexpected for us, it may yet be for others. Watch for more unfamiliar hands. The court will be restless.¡± Alayne tapped her fingers softly on the wooden desk. ¡°And the suspicion I¡¯ll attract? Surely a foreigner such as myself might be at the top of the list of¡­ culprits.¡± She fumbled at some of the words in Runespeak. How come that rusty bastard Cedric was so much better than her at this? ¡°Let them suspect,¡± the crow said. ¡°This changes nothing. Fear grows from uncertainty. With each question, they will look to us for answers, and we will have them, shaped to our choosing.¡± ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you risk me getting caught?¡± ¡°We risk just by talking to you right now. Do not be afraid, we have contingency plans.¡± Alayne guffawed. ¡°Do not be afraid,¡± he says. What he meant was, ¡°You¡¯re not indispensable.¡± Getting caught would be problematic, but the League could disavow her, claiming she acted independently or as a rogue agent. Or was this their goal? To have her captured and claim she had been working for the Revalian regime? Plots within plots, she thought calmly as her gaze fell on the moonlit treetops. The crow cawed again. ¡°This discussion is over. We will comma¡ª¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t said yes, have I?¡± The crow fell silent. The sigils burned fiery red. ¡°If you deny us, we will simply find another. Your brother shall serve.¡± Alayne felt a needle somewhere in her navel. ¡°No need to get him involved. I¡¯ll play my part.¡± ¡°We expected you to. You are your father¡¯s daughter.¡± ¡°But if the risks are higher, I want my compensation to reflect that.¡± The crow looked her in the eyes, unblinking. ¡°You have something in mind already, it is plain to see. Speak.¡± There is no tricking the Council. ¡°I want a chance for us to remain home." When she didn''t meet any resistance, Alayne continued, "I want to be admitted to the Fifth Circle.¡± Silence followed. Alayne expected her demand to be too high, but there was a chance the Council was as desperate as her. They bluff when they say they can find another. They need me. ¡°Third Circle,¡± the crow finally cawed. ¡°You are a gifted girl and will get to the Fifth in no time at all. No need to rush.¡± Alayne didn¡¯t feel like haggling. Gifted she might be, but the Silver gift of diplomacy was not her strong suit. ¡°That¡¯s if I survive. If I die¡ª¡± ¡°In such a case, I wish you a slow death.¡± Alayne smiled. This was a traditional farewell wish in Bironia. ¡°As you will it, Mother,¡± she murmured, resuming her ordinary voice. She scratched the crow just under the beak and shooed it away. The bird ruffled its feathers and then hopped to the windowsill. Once it had vanished from view, she closed the window and turned back to her dim chamber. ¡°Your Runespeak has improved.¡± She turned slowly and saw Cedric standing in the doorway. His face was a mix of disbelief and anger. I don''t believe I''ve ever seen this face on him. ¡°A shame you didn¡¯t let me talk to¡­ Mother,¡± her brother said. Alayne tried to compose herself, brushing invisible dust off her sleeves as if she could sweep away the weight of his words. ¡°Eavesdropping? That¡¯s a new low for you, brother.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to,¡± Cedric snapped. ¡°But you weren¡¯t exactly whispering, were you? Talking about¡­ missions,¡± he whispered the word, ¡°Returning home. What¡¯s going on, Alayne?¡± Alayne didn¡¯t answer. No use getting him involved. ¡°So what is your mission? Was it you who¡­¡± he didn¡¯t want to finish the question, she could plainly see it. ¡°No.¡± She made sure to look Cedric in the eyes so that he would know that she wasn¡¯t lying. ¡°It¡¯s not something you need to concern yourself with.¡± ¡°Not something¡ª¡± Cedric stepped into the room, his fists clenched. ¡°Not something I need to concern myself with? You¡¯re my sister! If you think I¡¯m just going to stand here and watch you get yourself killed for¡ª¡± ¡°For us,¡± Alayne interrupted, her voice sharp as a blade. ¡°I¡¯m doing this for us, Cedric. For our father. For our family.¡± Cedric¡¯s mouth opened, then closed. He shook his head, his anger faltering under confusion. ¡°For¡­ us? How does any of this help us?¡± Alayne took a step closer, lowering her voice. ¡°This is our chance, perhaps our only chance to go back to Bironia. If I do this, they¡¯ll restore our father¡¯s name. We¡¯ll be welcomed back. Slate clean. No more treating us as outsiders.¡± Cedric¡¯s face twisted with frustration. ¡°And at what cost? What do you have to do, Alayne? Who do you have to become?¡± A tool. Alayne turned away, staring at the small, cracked mirror on the wall. Her reflection looked back at her¡ªtired, so very tired. ¡°Does it matter? They¡¯ve already decided what I am. A half-Revalian traitor. A stain on Bironia¡¯s honor.¡± Her voice wavered but didn¡¯t break. ¡°If they want me to prove my loyalty, then I¡¯ll prove it. I¡¯ll do whatever it takes.¡± Cedric was silent for a moment. Alayne turned to him. ¡°Do you think I want to live like this, Cedric? Trapped in a foreign court, treated like dirt because of something we had no say in? I want to go home. I want our father to hold his head high again. I want you to have a future. And if this is the price¡­ then so be it.¡± Cedric took a shaky breath. She saw his anger replaced by something else. Fear. ¡°And if you fail? If they decide your blood is still too tainted, even after all this?¡± Alayne¡¯s expression softened, but there was a steeliness in her gaze. ¡°Then at least I¡¯ll have tried. At least I¡¯ll have done something.¡± He looked at her, his shoulders slumping. ¡°You¡¯re my sister, Alayne. Not some tool for those¡­ vultures. If they throw you to the wolves, what am I supposed to do? Just watch?¡± Alayne reached out and put a hand on his arm. ¡°You¡¯ll survive. That¡¯s what we do, Cedric. We survive.¡± He looked down at her hand, then back up at her face. ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± he said finally. ¡°I don¡¯t like any of it.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like it either,¡± she admitted. ¡°But it¡¯s the only way.¡± ¡°We¡¯re twins. Did you ever wonder why they haven¡¯t reached out to me?¡± ¡°Because I¡¯m the only one strong enough to carry out this mission.¡± ¡°Or because I¡¯m the only one smart enough to tell them no. Rusting hell, Alayne, what were you thinking? I knew you were prideful. But this?¡± He still thinks I¡¯m doing this for myself. ¡°You think I¡¯m still that weak little girl you need to defend? I¡¯m a warrior. My blood is iron.¡± ¡°That¡¯s precisely what I¡¯m afraid of. Even iron breaks if struck too many times.¡± That was so unlike Cedric to talk in bookish wisdoms. Alayne said nothing. The weight of silence was pressing down on both of them. ¡°I¡¯m going with you to the north,¡± Cedric finally said. Alayne turned to face him. ¡°If you want to stop me, feel free to do so now,¡± she said coldly. ¡°Stop you?¡± Cedric scoffed, a faint, bitter smile pulling at his lips. ¡°Alayne, I¡¯ve known you for sixteen years. I know perfectly well that there¡¯s no stopping you.¡± Her shoulders relaxed, but only slightly. ¡°Good,¡± she said simply, brushing past him to gather her things. But Cedric wasn¡¯t done. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. ¡°I¡¯ll make the killing blow in your stead.¡± Alayne froze. What is he saying? This didn¡¯t make any sense to her. ¡°There¡¯s only room for one in a boiling cauldron, I¡¯m afraid,¡± her brother continued. ¡°And I would hate it if you cheated me out of it.¡± "You''ll... die," she said stupidly. ¡°So what?¡± His eyes glinted, and Alayne again remembered the fire that consumed her parchment. ¡°All men are equal in death.¡± SEVEN: Preparations

MIKO

We are of one blood. My life is yours. Your strength is mine. ¨C Blood oath The mudreaver stood motionless, its body blending seamlessly with the boggy terrain. Its slick, dark skin shimmered faintly in the dim light, patches of mud clinging to its scales like armor. ¡°We are of one blood,¡± Miko told the mudreaver, her hand moments away from touching it. This was a binding oath, one that you reserved for the beast you wished to tame. The mudreaver looked at her with stupid, empty eyes and waddled away, unimpressed. Miko sighed, withdrawing her hand. She had tried this with the ironwhisker earlier. Before that, the mossback. And many more before that. None of them had listened. None had even shown the faintest flicker of interest in her. If soulbonding only involved catching a beast and swearing an oath, she¡¯d have been a soultamer in no time, with or without her father¡¯s approval. But a blood pact required two willing subjects. That¡¯s why most noble families were breeding their own ancestral beasts. A creature like her father¡¯s banewolf could be reasoned with¡ªas much as you can reason with a beast at all¡ªbut forcing a pact on an unknown, wild animal was too dangerous. She didn¡¯t dare steal a banewolf pup again. It was way too young for the ritual and entirely unfamiliar with Miko. Besides, by laws of succession, it was Sai¡¯s ancestral beast. Teru and Sai were born into this privilege. But not Miko. Never Miko. No matter. When I¡¯m done, father will have no choice but to acknowledge me and grant me a banewolf. And if he didn¡¯t? Miko could find a way to tame the embermane, however long it might take. The prospect of riding atop that fierce beast back into the village, to the horror and awe of everyone, put a smile on her face. I¡¯ll make a quick stop at Old Mother¡¯s temple. Let¡¯s see her root the rotweed herself. But only fools reveled in the fights they¡¯ve yet to win. Miko had work to do. She recalled the details she had read about the embermane.
EMBERMANE
Threat level: ¡ï¡ï¡ï (three stars)
A large beast with a body covered in yellow-tinted scales and deep crimson fur that appears almost molten under moonlight. Its defining feature is its mane, which can ignite into roaring flames when the creature is provoked or enraged. Embermane¡¯s sharp claws are capable of cutting through dense wood and even stone. The average lifespan of an Embermane is about 30 years, and they can grow up to six shoulders in height, weighing close to eighty stones. Embermanes typically inhabit the dense forests near volcanic regions or areas rich in mineral deposits. They are most often found in places where the climate is warm. The embermane is known for its territorial and highly aggressive nature, especially if threatened or if its lair is encroached upon. Despite their fierce demeanor, they are strategic hunters, capable of using stealth to ambush prey. They are solitary creatures, preferring isolation and only coming together to mate or defend territory. Their diet consists mainly of large game and charred vegetation. The Embermane¡¯s primary defense mechanism involves using its fiery mane to create controlled bursts of flame, deterring large predators.
If what the scroll said was true, what did the embermane forget this far to the north? The Narwa province was home to beasts that were more accustomed to harsh winters. Doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ve been gifted a perfect opportunity, Miko thought, clenching her fists. The embermane was close¡ªMiko could feel it in the air. She has seen the scorch trails and patches of singed grass. Miko knelt in the dirt, tracing crude lines with a stick, sketching a map of its movements. Paths. Tracks. Habits. Patterns. It was like piecing together the fragments of a puzzle, except this puzzle might burn her alive if she made a mistake. Her plan, as it stood, was simple: lure the embermane into a clearing where her traps waited. But simple wasn¡¯t the same as easy. Her father used to say, "A plan is only as strong as the hands that execute it." She grimaced, shaking off the voice in her head. Finding the time to work undisturbed had been a challenge. Her daily chore of gathering fireberries¡ªa thorn-ridden task that left her hands scratched and her clothes snagged¡ªoffered the perfect excuse to slip away.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. By gathering extra on the first two days, she¡¯d freed up the third day entirely. She would have no distractions tonight. No excuses, either. Thin, near-invisible ropes coated in a sticky sap-and-resin mixture crisscrossed between the trees, forming a crude net that might¡ªmight¡ªslow the embermane. Not stop it. Not hold it. Just slow it enough to buy her a precious moment. Nearby, small clay pots sat strategically placed, filled with a concoction of herbs and water. When ignited, they¡¯d release thick, choking smoke to disorient the beast and, hopefully, extinguish its mane of fire. The bait¡ªa wild boar meat¡ªlay at the clearing''s center. The meat glistened with a mixture of oil and Miko¡¯s own blood. She winced at the memory of pricking her finger for the mixture, the sight of her blood pooling darker than she¡¯d expected. This has to work, she thought, as much a prayer as a declaration. The forest was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. As she adjusted one of the ropes, her mind wandered. What am I even doing? She rubbed her sore hands on her thighs, trying to shake off the weight of exhaustion. Her traps were crude and cobbled together, more desperate hope than precision engineering. Father would laugh himself to death if he saw this. Only she wasn¡¯t sure that Lord Takami was even capable of laughter. Miko straightened up and surveyed her work. There were several pitfalls lined with brambles. A snare crafted from hastily tied rope. A sharpened stake that seemed more likely to impale her than the embermane. She adjusted a knot, her fingers fumbling as she tried to recall anything useful from her father¡¯s scrolls. She hadn¡¯t seen a single embermane up close, only drawings. Was the stake even at the right angle? Would the smoke be thick enough? Did embermanes even like boar meat? Her hands trembled slightly as she tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. She chewed on a stick of dried meat, trying to calm her racing thoughts. The embermane was nocturnal, fast asleep for now. Nightfall was her window. It¡¯s this night or never, she thought, repeating it like a mantra. Her traps looked pitiful under the light, but maybe they would look better in the dark of the night? A knot of doubt tightened in Miko¡¯s stomach. Yet there was no turning back. Not anymore. I¡¯m feeling good about this, she lied to herself. The clearing was set. The traps were ready. Stepping back, she surveyed her handiwork with both pride and fear. She couldn¡¯t decide which kept her standing. Maybe both.
Later, while scrubbing the floor around the altar again, Miko recalled the image of an embermane wreaking havoc around Old Mother¡¯s temple. It was so vivid, she couldn¡¯t contain her laughter. ¡°What¡¯s so funny, girl?¡± the crone asked. You¡¯ll find out soon enough, old dear. ¡°Nothing. Just saw my reflection in the water.¡± Miko was so giddy that she laughed again. She didn¡¯t even mind the chores, and the time flew right by. The sun was sinking low on the horizon. Miko planned to return to her traps under cover of darkness¡ªa perfect timing for luring a nocturnal beast. She stepped into the courtyard of her father¡¯s manor, where the early evening sun painted long, slanted shadows across the ground. Teru was there, one of her half-brothers, reclining lazily against a low stone wall. It was unusual to see him without Sai lurking about. Teru¡¯s sandals were dusty, and his robe reeked of sweat¡ªhe must have come straight from the training yard. ¡°D-done praying to the gods, are you?¡± Teru smirked, tossing a small pebble in the air and catching it repeatedly. Miko rolled her eyes. ¡°At least someone in this family takes piety seriously.¡± ¡°Someone b-besides Sai, you mean,¡± Teru said with a laugh. ¡°He ran off to see you earlier. Is that how you g-gathered so many fireberries?¡± Miko froze. ¡°Sai¡­ came to see me?¡± ¡°Yeah, w-wasn¡¯t he with you?¡± Her heart dropped into her stomach. Sai wasn¡¯t supposed to go into the forest. No, no, no¡­ Her mind raced. Sai had begged to come with her before, but she¡¯d always refused. The forest wasn¡¯t safe, especially not for someone as small as her little brother. But if he thought he was helping her... ¡°Teru,¡± she said slowly, trying to keep the rising panic out of her voice, ¡°how long ago was this?¡± ¡°Maybe¡­ an hour? I just assumed you t-two were together. W-why? What¡¯s wrong?¡± Miko didn¡¯t respond. She turned on her heel and ran, her heart pounding in her chest. Sai, what were you thinking? The path to the forest blurred as she replayed the possibilities in her mind. The traps she¡¯d set. The bait she¡¯d laid. The embermane. If Sai had wandered into one of those clearings¡­ Miko felt as if there was a thorn lodged deep in her side. Please be safe. Please let me find you in time. Her legs carried her toward the woods with a speed she didn¡¯t know she possessed, her heart pounding like a drum in her ears. The trees grew thicker as she pushed deeper into the forest, branches snagging at her sleeves and underbrush scraping at her ankles. Her thoughts raced alongside her. He can¡¯t be there. He¡¯s probably just lost, that¡¯s all. Someone would¡¯ve seen him if he¡¯d gone too far. Right? She reached the first trap and saw nothing disturbed, no signs of a struggle. Relief flooded her, but it was fleeting. There were more traps farther in. Her foot caught on a root, and she stumbled, catching herself on her hands. Dirt pressed into her palms as she pushed herself up, her breath hitching. She couldn¡¯t stop now. The thought of Sai¡ªyoung, excitable Sai¡ªtrapped, hurt, or worse, propelled her forward. A sound pierced the silence. The rustling of leaves. She froze, straining to hear it again. Was it him? Or was it something else? Her traps were just ahead. ¡°Sai?¡± she called, her voice trembling, barely louder than a whisper. No response. The forest was holding its breath. Her legs carried her forward. The thought churned in her mind, relentless and cruel: What if he¡¯s already in one of the traps? What if it¡¯s too late? No, it can¡¯t be! He¡¯s all right. She rounded a dense thicket, the clearing just ahead where her main trap lay hidden¡ªthe sight before her made her heart lurch violently. She gasped. ¡°Sai¡ª¡± Miko¡¯s worst fears solidified in an instant. The ground around the pit was disturbed, the branches and leaves she¡¯d carefully arranged scattered haphazardly. The trap had been triggered. Her mind raced with every possible scenario¡ªhad he fallen in? Was he hurt? Had something else gotten to him first? Without thinking, she sprinted toward the edge of the pit. Her focus was locked on the gaping hole, her feet moving faster than her thoughts. The earth was a blur beneath her. And then, too late, she realized her mistake. Her boot caught on one of the trigger wires she¡¯d laid herself, the tripline snapping taut. The ground gave way under her feet with terrifying swiftness, the hidden snare she¡¯d forgotten springing into action. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Miko barely had time to cry out before tumbling downward, the sky disappearing as the walls of the pit closed in around her. She landed hard, her body hitting the packed dirt floor with a bone-rattling thud. Her left arm caught most of the impact. Pain flared up in her side. For a moment, everything was spinning¡ªher vision, her thoughts, her breath¡ªand she could do nothing but lie there, gasping and disoriented. She didn¡¯t even have to bite back a cry of pain, as it felt like there was no air in her lungs. And there was something else she caught with her eyes on the way down. Someone, something that initially triggered the trap was still at the bottom with her. A dark shape moved soundlessly about. ¡°Well,¡± the dark shape said. ¡°At least I¡¯ll have company now.¡± A pair of startling blue eyes met hers. How strange, Miko thought. I don¡¯t remember Sai having fur. Then darkness took over. EIGHT: Trapped

MIKO

Student Son-Gi approached his teacher one day. ¡°O Great Teacher! Relieve me of this dilemma: Why do we talk of bests and men as though they are not the same?¡± The student bowed down and presented his case. ¡°Are beasts not born from their mothers and fathers, such as we are?¡± ¡°That is so,¡± the teacher admitted. ¡°And do beasts not hunt and sleep, such as we do?¡± ¡°They do,¡± the teacher admitted. ¡°When beasts are hurt, are they not bleeding red the same as us?¡± ¡°They are,¡± the teacher admitted. ¡°Then what makes a man different from a beast?¡± The teacher pondered for a moment and said, ¡°A man asks too many a question.¡± ¨C Tales of Student Son-Gi, Volume 12 The first thing Miko saw through the haze of her half-conscious state was a faint glow. It was pale and serene, like a sliver of moonlight cutting through the darkness. A blue, upside-down crescent. It hovered in her vision, stark against the blur of the world, until her muddled thoughts began to sharpen. She blinked, and the crescent turned into a bright marking, resting on the forehead of a creature. For a moment, Miko didn¡¯t move. The creature¡ªno, a moonfox, she realized¡ªstood before her, its head tilted slightly. It was unlike any fox she¡¯d seen. Its silver fur gleamed faintly, each strand shimmering like polished steel. Its eyes were sharp and piercing, twin pools of ice-cold blue. Their gazes locked, and Miko held her breath. The moonfox¡¯s tail swayed lazily behind it. For a fleeting moment, Miko wondered if she were dreaming, but the ache in her body reminded her otherwise. "You''re hurt." The voice came out of nowhere. Miko whipped her head around, looking for the source. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± No answer came, just the sound of her own ragged breathing. There was no one else in here, just Miko and... The moonfox stared back. Its luminous blue eyes seemed almost amused in the dim light. The voice! Miko realized suddenly. The voice sounded familiar to her. ¡°You¡¯re that silver shadow!¡± Miko gasped, her words tumbling over each other. ¡°From the forest! The ice hounds!¡± She sounded ridiculous. ¡°You¡¯re the one that called me a fool back then!¡± ¡°And you are that girl,¡± the fox said. Its voice was smooth and precise. "That , I should say." Miko froze. Her hand shot to her temple, half expecting to find a fever. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ talking.¡± I must have hit my head. That¡¯s all. That¡¯s all it is. Her thoughts spiraled in panicked loops. ¡°You are talking as well,¡± the moonfox said, as if stating the obvious to a particularly slow child. Miko¡¯s words were failing her. For a moment, she could only gape at the fox, her rational mind warring with what she was seeing. Finally, she managed a shaky, incredulous whisper: ¡°What¡­ are you?¡± Miko tried to stand up but immediately failed. Something was wrong with her arm. She tested it, wincing at the sharp pain that radiated through her elbow and shoulder. Broken, she thought with a sick feeling. Her arm lied lifelessly like a twisted branch. There was no blood, at least. Miko¡¯s chances of climbing out on her own, even without the injury, were slim to none. The walls were smooth and sheer; she¡¯d made sure of that when she dug it. She groaned inwardly. Trapped in her own pit! Do I wait for my father to help me again? Then she remembered Sai. He might still be somewhere in the forest. The longer she waited, the worse were the chances of saving him. The fox gave her a long, unimpressed look. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t look at me like that,¡± she snapped, feeling foolish and furious all at once. You¡¯re talking to a beast, silly girl, she reminded herself. ¡°I¡¯ll look at whomever I please in whichever way I please,¡± the fox licked his paw. ¡°You deserve no less.¡± ¡°I have nothing to do with this.¡± ¡°Undoubtedly. The pit appeared all on its own.¡± ¡°I told you I have nothing to do with this! Why would I break my own arm?¡± Miko held out her hand for the fox to inspect. She tried not to look at it herself for fear of getting sick. ¡°Who else, then?¡± ¡°A hunter. An enemy. A rebel,¡± Miko lied. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Fine, stay down here and deny to your heart¡¯s content.¡± ¡°Wait!¡± she stretched her healthy arm but could reach the fox. The moonfox coiled his body, his eyes fixed on the edge of the pit. He crouched lower, waiting for the right moment, and then he leapt. Miko¡¯s heart stopped. He might pull it off. His silver body stretched in a blur as he soared skyward. He landed softly against the wall and kicked off. And again and again, reaching higher and higher. But the pit widened near the top, and even Miko could see he couldn¡¯t cover the distance in one leap.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. His claws scraped the far wall as he kicked off, angling to reach the opposite side, but it only brought him a few inches higher than before. His paws skidded on the dirt, and he bounced between the walls, each jump more desperate, more pointless. Whenever his paws slipped, his effort seemed to deepen. At last, this hind leg caught on a patch of loose dirt, and he tumbled back down, landing with a heavy thud. The moonfox panted with his tongue fully out, bright-blue against his silver fur. He looked exhausted, and something in the tilt of his head and the subtle slump of his shoulders reminded Miko of her father¡¯s banewolf. The moonfox¡¯s icy gaze turned on her. ¡°I¡¯ve been embarrassed enough,¡± he said. ¡°You must be satisfied. Let me go now.¡± ¡°If I could do that, don¡¯t you think I¡¯d be on my way now? How should I ¡®let you go¡¯ exactly?¡± Miko was surprised how annoyed she was getting. Was it pain in her speaking, or something else? ¡°You humans design these traps. You tell me.¡± ¡°You¡¯re the one who triggered it!¡± Miko shot back, her voice rising despite the ache in her ribs. ¡°If you¡¯d just stayed out of the way, I might¡¯ve had a chance.¡± The moonfox tilted his head, his ears twitching in mock consideration. ¡°My apologies for not being clairvoyant. I was baited. You jumped right in. What¡¯s your excuse?¡± Miko groaned, letting her head fall back against the wall. For a moment, silence hung between them, the weight of their mutual frustrations settling into the small space. Finally, Miko sighed. ¡°Fine. Maybe we¡¯re both in the same mess.¡± The moonfox gave a short, barking laugh. ¡°A mess you created, I might add.¡± ¡°Alright, fine,¡± Miko admitted. ¡°I made the trap. But you¡¯re the one who fell into it.¡± ¡°And now we¡¯re both stuck,¡± the moonfox said with a dramatic flick of his tail. ¡°Marvelous teamwork so far.¡± Despite herself, Miko felt a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. ¡°You¡¯re infuriating, you know that?¡± ¡°Part of my charm,¡± he replied smoothly. They sat in silence again for a while after that, the tension easing slightly. The moonfox¡¯s ears perked up, and a moment later Miko heard something in the far distance: aaaawoooh It¡¯s awoke? Already? ¡°Do you hear that?¡± Miko asked. ¡°You know what this is?¡± From the way the moonfox fell silent, he knew. ¡°The embermane is hungry. He could eat us both whole, and we would barely work as an appetizer for him.¡± The moonfox did not reply. ¡°Help me escape, and neither of us will die.¡± ¡°Do you have a plan?¡± Miko didn¡¯t, but it¡¯s not like the fox needed to know that. ¡°You could¡­ give me a lift,¡± Miko said stupidly. She didn¡¯t believe it herself. My arm is broken and I worked well on this pit, gods be damned. It¡¯s too deep. Deep enough for an embermane. ¡°How about you give me a lift, human?¡± ¡°With this?¡± she flopped her broken arm, and a small, rancid sound escaped her throat. ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± ¡°Then heal it.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± she admitted. What use was there in beating around the bush? ¡°I¡¯m not like most people. My wounds don¡¯t heal that well.¡± And even if I did, there¡¯s no way I¡¯m going to put trust in a wild animal. Trust. The word ignited something here. Trust. Yes, I suppose trust will matter here. ¡°I can¡¯t help you up, but¡­¡± Miko paused, as if unsure of what she was going to say. ¡°But there is another way.¡± ¡°No,¡± the moonfox said sharply. ¡°Listen to me. Please. There is another way,¡± she said slowly. ¡°If we bind our souls¡ª¡± ¡°NO.¡± ¡°¡ªI might be able to use your power to get us both out.¡± aaaawoooh The embermane¡¯s howl worked better than any argument Miko could come up with. The moonfox looked as if he was about to retch. ¡°The soulbinding is forever, girl.¡± The fox regarded her with uncertainty. ¡°I know.¡± Talk about an unwanted marriage, huh. The fox¡¯s eyes lingered on her, blue and unfathomable. Miko met his gaze. For a long, tense moment, they were silent. Then, with a tired flick of his tail, he let out a heavy sigh, his posture softening just slightly. ¡°Be quick about it. Before I change my mind.¡± aaaawoooooh ¡°And before it gets here.¡± Miko patted her pockets with her healthy hand. ¡°Where is my knife?¡± She looked around. She tried not to think about her situation. A small talking moonfox! That¡¯s exactly what I deserve. The fox brought her the blade. ¡°Here.¡± Miko placed her knife against her palm. ¡°Do you trust me?¡± ¡°No.¡± I¡¯m not sure I trust myself, either. But it was too late for second guesses. Miko loudly exhaled and slashed across her palm. There was no pain, but she winced all the same. The blood had to be fresh. She cupped her hand, and the blood started pooling. ¡°Drink it,¡± she told the fox. ¡°No, thank you. I¡¯d rather drink river sewage.¡± ¡°I would too, if that could help us.¡± A hammer was working a steady rhythm in Miko¡¯s temples. ¡°Drink.¡± ¡°Do I have to?¡± the fox whined. For a second, he sounded just like Sai when he had to take a spoonful of bitter medicine. Sai. I¡¯m doing this for him. Miko sighed. Human or not, men could be so impossible sometimes. ¡°I cannot make you drink. You have to do so willingly.¡± ¡°I know the rules, little girl,¡± the moonfox snarled. He nestled his maw in her hand and started licking. Miko felt a ticklish sensation, like someone was rubbing her hand with sandpaper. Like a cat¡¯s tongue, she thought. The fox hurried to get it done. ¡°Pee-ew!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be dramatic. Surely it¡¯s not that bad.¡± ¡°What now?¡± the fox asked her. Now we pray it works. ¡°We are of one blood,¡± Miko whispered. She imagined saying the blood oath a thousand times in a thousand different ways. But never like this. ¡°My life is yours. Your strength is mine.¡± When nothing happened, she resumed the chant. The fox watched her, incredulous. ¡°We are of one blood. My life is yours. Your strength is mine.¡± The words themselves didn¡¯t matter, Miko knew. Only the intent behind them. So why isn¡¯t this working? The rules were simple and universal: you make an oath once a beast drinks your blood. A willing beast. ¡°An agreement made under duress has no binding power,¡± Miko suddenly recalled from one of the court transcripts she¡¯d read a while ago. A boring read that was, but what can you do once you¡¯ve exhausted the entire library? Let¡¯s hope the soulbinding laws don¡¯t work like that. Somewhere up above and far away, the howl erupted again. It was getting closer: AAaaawooooooh ¡°Are we done?¡± the moonfox asked. ¡°I don¡¯t feel any different.¡± Nor do I, Miko wanted to say. Instead, she continued: ¡°We are of one blood. We are of one blood. We are of¡ª¡± Nothing was happening. Did you really think it would be that easy? Miko berated herself. "Your magic is slower than I imagined," the moonfox huffed impatiently. "Or maybe you¡¯re just no good at it." He kept shifting his weight as he eyed Miko with those sharp blue eyes of his. Miko gritted her teeth, blocking out all the distractions. She pressed her bleeding hand into his fur, feeling the sticky warmth of her own blood seep into his silver coat. The thick, metallic smell of it filled the small space between them, making her feel faint. But still, nothing changed. The howl sounded again, ever closer, sending a chill down her spine. AAAaaaawOOOoooooh It was closing in on them. Her heart hammered, but she forced herself to focus. ¡°We are of one blood.¡± Her voice was shaking as bad as her fingers. ¡°My life is yours. Your strength is mine.¡± This is pointless. No, this is my only chance. There were two voices fighting inside of her. She tried to ignore both. "If I end up dying alongside you, I¡¯ll make sure you regret it in the next life," the moonfox whined. He was even more scared than her, Miko could feel. Where DO moonfoxes go after they die? She shook her head, the way a banewolf shakes itself dry. Not now! ¡°Just¡ªbe quiet,¡± she snapped, not sure whether this was aimed at the fox or her own mind. ¡°We are of one blood,¡± she closed her eyes, pouring every drop of her belief into the chant. ¡°We are of one blood. We are of one blood¡­¡± Nothing. She felt light-headed. And there it goes¡­ Whether it was from the blood loss or the rising panic, she couldn¡¯t tell. Her chest tightened, and her grip on the moonfox weakened. Come on, she thought desperately, please, work. Please, AAAAAAAWOOOOOoooh work! It was so close now. The moonfox let out a low, sickly growl. ¡°If this is all you¡¯ve got¡ª¡± ¡°WE ARE OF ONE BLOOD,¡± Miko interrupted. She wasn¡¯t whispering anymore. There was no point. She should have been frightened. ¡°MY LIFE IS YOURS.¡± By all the laws, she should have been scared witless. And she was. ¡°YOUR STRENGTH IS MINE.¡± But she was calm, as well. Her heart was beating steadily. ¡°WE ARE OF ONE B¡ª¡± Something blew up in her head. A thick dark rivulet streamed down from her nostrils. I am bleeding out. I¡¯m dying, she thought calmly. But somehow she knew she wasn¡¯t. ¡°¡ªLOOD. WE ARE OF¡ª¡± The world around her seemed to fold in on itself. Miko saw the moonfox¡¯s blindingly white fur burst afire with light. It expanded until there wasn¡¯t anything left in her vision. ¡°¡ªONE BLOOD. WE¡ª¡± She felt a warmth¡ªnot hers, but someone else¡¯s¡ªseeping into her mind, merging with her own. A stark-white light that the world turned into glowed with intensity that burned her eyes. ¡°¡ªARE OF ONE BLOOD.¡± For a while, there was nothing. It went beyond color, beyond sounds. No, not quite. There was a sound. thump thump thump My heartbeat, someone thought inside Miko¡¯s head. She tried to open her eyes and realized they¡¯ve been open this whole time. There was no light anymore. The sounds were returning. The world sang around her. Miko flexed her fist again. The wound was closing by itself. We are of one blood. NINE: Of One Blood

MIKO

First-time forgers of bonds with wild beasts often report a fleeting sensation of unmatched euphoria, colloquially known as the Thrill. This momentary surge fills the tamer with a sense of invincibility. Novices should be aware that this exhilaration is as brief as it is blinding. The unprepared often mistake the Thrill for complete mastery, only to falter when it dissipates. ¨C True Accounts of Beast Hunters (3rd edition) She should have been in agony. Her broken arm, her drained body, her bleeding wounds¡ªevery muscle should have been screaming at her to stop, to rest, to lie down. To give in. Instead, Miko was flying. Flying. Her feet left the ground, and for a dizzying moment, she was airborne, weightless. She landed clumsily, stumbling but not falling, her body adjusting with an instinct that wasn¡¯t entirely her own. There was a power coursing through her veins now. It was like waking up after a fever had burned itself out, when the ache was gone and the world felt startlingly clear. Like taking the first deep breath after nearly drowning. Her pulse didn¡¯t feel like her own¡ªit beat alongside another rhythm, something steady and sure, intertwined with her own. ¡°Is this¡­ you?¡± she asked, looking at the moonfox. ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± he answered. ¡°I don¡¯t feel like myself anymore.¡± Miko nodded. She felt the same. Or, rather, she felt more like herself than she ever did. She felt whole. She felt awake. A nearly hysterical laugh escaped her mouth. She was overwhelmed with emotions, all her senses exposed to the elements. She could feel her arm again. The broken bones began to mend. Something thrummed inside Miko, steady and powerful, drowning out the pain. Her feet shifted instinctively, testing the ground beneath her. The moonfox paced beside her. We can get out of this, Miko thought, and the words didn¡¯t feel entirely hers. ¡°Don¡¯t just think it, then,¡± the moonfox said aloud, jumping on her back. ¡°Do it.¡± She crouched, unsure where the movement came from¡ªa memory, perhaps. Her legs coiled with energy, and then she leapt. The first jump was too short, her feet scraping against the muddy wall before she slid back down. She closed her eyes and tried again. This time, she didn¡¯t hesitate. She pushed off the ground, and her legs responded with a strength that startled her. Her fingertips grazed the pit''s edge, but not enough to catch. The moonfox barked sharply. The next attempt felt effortless. Her feet left the ground, and for a breathless moment, she soared. Just like the moonfox did back then, she kicked off a wall a few times. It was surprisingly easy, even with the added weight of the silver beast on her back. When she landed at the edge of the pit, she didn¡¯t stumble. She felt steady, as though her body already knew what to do. The moonfox leapt up beside her, impossibly light, his tail flicking as though this were all a casual game to him. ¡°We¡¯re out,¡± he said. ¡°Time to run.¡± He doesn¡¯t get it. ¡°What don¡¯t I get?¡± the moonfox asked, confused. Perhaps Miko was thinking too loud. ¡°I¡¯m not running,¡± she replied firmly. She felt the dirt under her hands, the fresh air filling her lungs, the hum of shared power running through her veins. ¡°Not ever.¡± The moonfox¡¯s ears flicked. ¡°You¡¯re stubborn.¡± ¡°You just noticed?¡± Miko stood, her breath evening out as she stared into the shadows of the Laughing Forest. The embermane was out there. She could feel it now, like an itch beneath her skin. Her senses¡ªor, rather, their senses¡ªwere sharper, more acute. The embermane¡¯s scent lingered in the air, acrid and burning, and her new instincts screamed predator. ¡°It caught our scent,¡± the moonfox said, his voice low. ¡°I¡¯m well aware,¡± Miko replied. Her hand flexed, and for the first time, she didn¡¯t think about what she was going to do next¡ªshe simply moved. ¡°We¡¯re going after it.¡± The moonfox huffed, something between a sigh and a laugh. ¡°Of all the humans¡­¡± Miko didn¡¯t answer. Her feet were already carrying her forward, toward the beast waiting for her in the darkness. The forest seemed to shudder around her. The embermane wouldn¡¯t wait forever. And neither would she. Her heart felt like it had caught fire. The world seemed brighter, crisper, alive in ways it had never been before. The exhaustion, the pain in her broken arm, the bruises on her body¡ªall of it was muted, distant, like a bad dream she had just woken from. Her hands trembled¡ªnot from fear, but from the sheer energy waiting to be unleashed. Was this the Thrill she¡¯d read so much about? ¡°Conjure something,¡± the moonfox said. ¡°You need a weapon. A sword. A pointy stick. Anything.¡± Miko didn¡¯t even think about it. She raised her hand, palm open, and the blood still dripping from her wounds began to gather. It defied gravity, swirling upward in ribbons of crimson light. She stared, wide-eyed, as the blood twisted and hardened, reshaping itself. I did that? A blade formed in her hand. The light was dancing across its slick surface. It wasn¡¯t perfect¡ªits edge was rough, its weight slightly unbalanced¡ªbut it was real. Hers. She felt the cold bite of its presence against her palm, the way it fit like an extension of her arm. It was unlike anything she¡¯d ever imagined. ¡°I did it,¡± she whispered, her voice trembling with awe. ¡°Of course you did,¡± the moonfox said, his tone almost reverent. ¡°It¡¯s your blood. It answers only to you.¡± Miko took a step forward and swung the blade experimentally. It moved easily, effortlessly, like it had been waiting for her all along. The air whistled as it cut through, and Miko couldn¡¯t help but laugh¡ªa short, breathless sound that surprised even her. In that moment, she wasn¡¯t just Miko the village girl, the daughter of Lord Takami, a poor fool with a bleeder¡¯s disease. She swung the blade again and, for the first time in her life, felt untouchable. ¡°I hope you have more battle experience than that,¡± the moonfox whined. He wanted to add something¡ªanother biting remark, no doubt¡ªbut his eyes turned to the shrubbery. There was that low, rumbling growl again. The embermane was here. The moonfox crouched low, its muscles tensing as the embermane¡¯s outline emerged through the trees. Unrelenting fiery eyes of a lizard, burning with anger, locked onto Miko The creature was massive, its mane glowing like molten lava, heat radiating off its body in waves. The scenery around him seemed to dance because of the heat. Miko remembered seeing the beast in a scroll. No picture could do this monster justice.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. The embermane snarled, lowering itself, ready to pounce. But Miko didn¡¯t wait. She lunged forward, her blood-forged blade held steady in her grip, moving with a surprising grace. She was faster, sharper. Every sound heightened, every instinct honed. The embermane lashed out and swiped its claws through the air in a furious arc. Miko ducked, rolling beneath it, her bloodblade slicing upward to meet the beast¡¯s fiery flank. The blade met flesh with a sickening hiss, and she felt a strange satisfaction as her weapon bit into the embermane¡¯s side, drawing out a sputtering burst of black, tar-like blood and flame. Her heart thundered. Miko leapt back, narrowly dodging another of the embermane¡¯s claws, the world around her moving faster, then slower, then faster again. a voice whispered in her mind, sharp and clear. The moonfox! How is he doing this? This was a riddle for later. Miko gritted her teeth, grounding herself as the embermane whipped its head toward her, its glowing eyes narrowing. ¡°I haven¡¯t forgotten,¡± she muttered under her breath, tightening her grip on the blade. But part of her couldn¡¯t deny the Thrill rushing through her veins. She¡¯d never felt power like this before, and even with the danger, it was intoxicating. She and Teru once stole a gourd of what they believed was heartweed wine. Later they learned it was some industrial alcohol but at that moment, they felt they belonged to a secret club of adults. The feeling of that intoxication was but a fraction of what she was feeling now. I hope I never get used to this. The embermane lunged again, its claws raking through the air, but this time Miko was ready. She sidestepped, leading it toward the shallow pit she¡¯d dug earlier and hidden beneath a thin layer of leaves and dirt. The embermane¡¯s front paw caught on the edge, and it stumbled, snarling as it tried to regain its footing. Miko seized the moment, darting forward to slash at its exposed flank. The bloodblade sliced through its fiery mane, leaving a trail of scorched fur and blackened blood. The embermane howled in rage, twisting its body to swipe at her with its claws. Miko barely managed to leap back in time, the tips of the claws grazing her sleeve. the moonfox¡¯s voice chided in her mind. ¡°Thanks for the advice,¡± she snapped, wiping sweat from her brow. Her traps were working, slowing the embermane just enough to give her an edge. But not enough to end the fight. Not yet. She put out her index finger, in poor imitation of the weapons the Iron League has brought from overseas. Miko has never seen one in real life, but she knew it was some thunder stick that shot metal balls. She made a gesture, and a blood bullet shot from her finger. It ripped a thin rope hidden in the leaves, and a net snapped downward, entangling the beast¡¯s legs. The embermane roared in fury, thrashing against the restraints. ¡°It won¡¯t hold,¡± the moonfox said, darting to the side. ¡°Wasn¡¯t meant to,¡± Miko muttered, already moving. She then lit one of the clay pots with a spark of fire magic, and smoke billowed out in thick, choking clouds. The embermane thrashed as it tried to shake itself free. Miko grabbed another pot and flung it at the beast¡¯s feet. The explosion of herbs and smoke disoriented it further, and for a moment, she felt like she had a fighting chance. The embermane snarled and burst through the net with a surge of strength. Miko stumbled back, narrowly avoiding a sweep of its claws. The moonfox darted forward, snapping at its flank to draw its attention. ¡°You¡¯ve got its focus. Do something!¡± he barked. Miko backed toward one of the pitfalls she¡¯d dug, carefully positioning herself between the embermane and the trap. As it charged, she sidestepped at the last moment, and the beast¡¯s weight carried it forward. The ground gave way beneath it, and it fell with a thunderous crash. Now! Before it can¡ª It was already too late. The embermane was clawing its way out of the pit. The beast was slower now, blood dripping from its legs, but its eyes burned with a furious light. The embermane reared up. Its mane dimmed for a moment, and Miko even thought the last of its strength left the beast, but then it flared even brighter than before, blinding her. Miko stumbled. She couldn¡¯t see, couldn¡¯t tell where the beast was. She rubbed her eyes but could only see white. I¡¯m done for, she thought calmly, jumping to the side, hoping to anticipate the attack. And then, as if someone had flipped a switch, her vision shifted. She was watching from a distance through eyes that did not belong to her. She could see the embermane now, its body a searing silhouette against the dark forest. She could see its movements, the tension in its muscles as it prepared to strike. I¡¯m seeing what the moonfox sees, she understood at once. Miko adjusted her stance and darted to the side again just as the embermane lunged. Its claws slammed into the ground where she¡¯d stood a moment earlier. Miko¡¯s vision snapped back to her own, leaving her dizzy for a moment. She blinked rapidly, then pivoted and drove her blade into its side. The wound was shallower than she intended. Stay calm, she told herself, gripping a makeshift blade. Beside her, the moonfox growled low. Miko didn¡¯t hesitate. She launched forward, her movements faster than she had ever felt, her senses tuned to each shift of the embermane¡¯s massive body. The beast swiped at her with a flaming paw, but she darted beneath it, driving her blade toward its exposed underbelly. Her blade struck true, sinking into its fur, but the embermane barely flinched. Instead, it turned on her with a snarl, flames licking higher along its mane. ¡°Not enough,¡± she muttered, frustration twisting in her gut. Even with this newfound power, the embermane was still more than a match. She was stronger than she¡¯d ever been, and yet, she could feel the embermane¡¯s strength like an overwhelming tide pressing against her. The moonfox leapt in, darting to the embermane¡¯s side and snapping at its legs. For a brief moment, the embermane seemed distracted, stumbling as it tried to focus on both of them. Miko took the chance to lunge forward, aiming for its shoulder this time, hoping to bring it down. The impact rattled through her arm as the blade connected¡ªand again, the embermane shook it off. Sweat dripped down Miko¡¯s brow, and she exchanged a quick look with the moonfox. They couldn¡¯t keep this up much longer. She felt the heat of its breath as it loomed over her, its jaws opening wide. Miko braced herself. She could feel her energy waning, and the embermane, though wounded, was far from defeated. That¡¯s when it happened. Instead of charging Miko, the embermane, almost despite itself, seemed to change its mind at the last moment. It drove itself toward another snare¡ªa weighted net Miko¡¯d rigged to drop when triggered. The embermane ran blindly, and the net fell, tangling its legs. It thrashed against the net, its movements growing weaker with each passing second. Miko approached cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest. Just as she readied herself for another strike, the embermane¡¯s fiery eyes fixed on her, and¡­ What in the world? The eyes, which were filled with blind rage only a few moments ago, now reflected something else. Something intelligent. Something human. ¡°Kill¡­ me¡­¡± Miko staggered back as if slapped. ¡°What¡­?¡± she whispered. A sickly, pathetic sound escaped the monster¡¯s maw, and Miko decided that this was all she heard. She searched its eyes and, again, found something that shouldn¡¯t have been there. ¡°Are you¡­¡± ¡°Please,¡± the monster rasped, with eyes that started to fade. Its voice faltered, so it sounded closer to Pease. ¡°Kill me¡­ end¡­¡± I¡¯ve gone insane. Miko read a lot of stories about people who started seeing things¡ªand hearing things¡ªfrom dehydration. Is this what¡¯s happening to me? Am I still trapped at the bottom of that pit? But the moment felt all too real. More real than the breakfast she has had that morning, more real than all the chores she had to do around the Old Mother¡¯s temple. The embermane opened its mouth again but didn¡¯t have the strength to talk anymore. In a way, Miko was thankful she didn¡¯t have to hear it. But the eyes, they pleaded with her. End¡­ me¡­ Some time passed. A moment perhaps, or maybe two days. Miko couldn¡¯t tell. ¡°What are you waiting for? Now! Kill it now!¡± someone screamed at her. Miko woke from her trance and turned her head. It was that moonfox. Ah. It¡¯s him. I soulbounded with him, Miko realized casually, waking up from her trance. She raised the blade with a surprisingly steady hand. The embermane exhaled its final breath. Miko¡¯s blade found its mark.
¡°What now?¡± The fox was staring at her, and she felt its presence more sharply than ever. There was distrust still in his eyes, but beneath it, she also sensed a¡­ What? Grudging acceptance? Understanding? Gratitude? It fell somewhere in the middle of all three. Miko nodded. Some time has passed, and the thrill she felt all but evaporated. Her body was no longer alive with the music. For the first time in what felt like forever, Miko let herself rest. Her blood-forged blade dissolved, leaving only a faint crimson stain. Her chest heaved with every breath, her arms and legs trembling as the last of the battle lust drained from her body. As if to provide a contrast to her, the embermane lay motionless, its flames forever extinguished. I¡­ did that? No, surely it was some other Miko that did this. Her vision blurred for a moment, and she blinked rapidly to clear it. Every muscle ached, and the gnawing emptiness inside her was worse than hunger She had poured so much energy into the fight that she felt like a hollow shell. ¡°You look terrible,¡± the moonfox said dryly. His silver fur was matted with dirt, and he limped slightly on one leg¡ªalmost like Lord Takami¡¯s banewolf¡ªbut still managed to carry himself with an undeserved amount of poise. ¡°Are all humans this fragile or is it just you?¡± Miko was too exhausted to muster more than a weak retort. ¡°I just saved both our lives, so maybe you could try saying thank you instead.¡± The fox sat back on his haunches, tilting his head as if considering her words. ¡°Hmm. Thank you for digging that pit you swore you didn¡¯t dig.¡± She let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. The forest around them seemed to return to its natural rhythm. The moonfox glanced at her, his gaze unreadable. ¡°You¡¯ve tied our lives together, whether I like it or not. Whatever you choose to do, I¡¯m now bound to follow.¡± If he had shoulders, Miko imagined he would have shrugged. ¡°I didn¡¯t plan for this, you know,¡± she managed to say. ¡°I wanted to bond with something powerful, something that would make my father respect me. I didn¡¯t think it would¡­ end up like this.¡± ¡°Am I supposed to be insulted or flattered?¡± the moonfox asked in a dry tone. ¡°You didn¡¯t get your embermane, but you got me instead. I¡¯d say you came out ahead.¡± ¡°Would you now?¡± Miko murmured. If she wasn¡¯t so damn exhausted, she might have even smiled. She let the silence stretch between them for a moment before speaking again. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m supposed to do next. I¡¯ve spent so much time thinking about getting a bond that I never thought about what would happen after.¡± Their lives were intertwined now, and that thought was as daunting as it was reassuring. She wasn¡¯t alone, at least. The moonfox huffed softly. ¡°Find me here tomorrow. Or the day after.¡± And with that, the silver beast disappeared. Sai. The thought never completely left her head, but it was now front and center. Without giving herself another moment of respite, Miko ran. She stumbled through the forest, her legs dragging like dead weight. She could feel the embermane¡¯s blood still linger on her hands, sticky and warm, but whenever she looked down, she would see no blood. All of the other traps had held, barely, but she couldn¡¯t stop wondering if Sai might¡¯ve fallen into one of the others. She had checked every pit on her way back, calling his name into the night until her voice was hoarse, but found nothing but silence. Her mind was in knots as she entered the village. For once, she didn¡¯t even care if anyone saw her in this state¡ªbruised, battered, and smeared with dirt. Teru was still playing with a wooden sword outside their home when she approached. His face lit up with joy at first, but his expression quickly changed to concern. ¡°Miko?¡± He stood, brushing off his hands. ¡°What h-happened to you?¡± She grabbed him by the arm, her voice cracking. ¡°Sai¡ªwhere is he? You have to help¡ª¡± Teru blinked, confused. ¡°Sai? What do you mean? He¡¯s fast asleep.¡± Safe! Relief hit her like a hammer, and with it came a tidal wave of exhaustion. The last of her strength finally gave out. ¡°Miko!¡± Teru caught her, his hands gripping her shoulders. How strange. It got dark so quickly. Miko collapsed.